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Content, Online Scholarship, Perspectives

Intellectual Property and “The Lost Year” of COVID-19 Deaths

Madhavi Sunder and Haochen Sun*

Editors’ Note: Although HILJ Online: Perspectives typically publishes short-form scholarship, we occasionally publish exceptional longer pieces such as this one. 

Introduction

Protecting intellectual property (IP) is a question of life and death.[1] COVID-19 vaccines, partially incentivized by IP, are estimated to have saved nearly 20 million lives worldwide during the first year of their availability in 2021.[2] However, most of the benefits of this life-saving technology went to high- and upper-middle-income countries.[3] Despite 10 billion vaccines being produced by the end of 2021, only 4 percent of people in low-income countries were fully vaccinated. Paradoxically, IP may also be partly responsible for hundreds of thousands of lives lost in 2021, due to an insufficient supply of vaccines and inequitable access during the critical first year of vaccine rollout, most notably in low-income countries that lacked the ability to buy or manufacture vaccines to save their populations. IP is implicated in the choked supply of COVID-19 vaccines in low-income countries, particularly during the crucial first year of the vaccines’ availability in 2021.[4]

This Article first diagnoses how the IP system bears some blame for a “lost year” of COVID-19 deaths and devastation in 2021. While the promise of monopoly rights in breakthrough technology helps incentive life-saving innovation, holding life-saving knowledge hostage in corporate monopolies to maximize private profit has tragic consequences. This Article diagnoses a number of causes for the inequitable distribution of life-saving COVID-19 vaccines, from misguided reliance on IP rights and voluntary mechanisms to share knowledge and vaccines, to the rise of vaccine nationalism and vaccine diplomacy, to unequal global IP institutions that disenfranchise low-income countries and continue to reproduce colonial era dependency by poor countries on high-income nations’ for life-saving technologies. Ultimately, unequal access to life-saving vaccines during the COVID-19 pandemic wreaked untold havoc on human lives and the global economy. Glaring inequity in global access affected rich countries, as well, as variants emerged in poorly vaccinated parts of the world and spread worldwide, prolonging the health and economic effects of the pandemic.

In response to the diagnosis, this Article develops cures to promote a timely and equitable supply of critical medicines in the next pandemic. As the WHO draft Pandemic Treaty recognizes, there is a critical “need to establish a future pandemic prevention, preparedness and response mechanism that is not based on a charity model.”[5] This Article suggests several reforms to prevent such inequity in the next pandemic, including delinking vaccine development that depends on public funding from monopoly rights in technology, enhanced legal requirements to share publicly funded technologies in pandemic times, and investment in technology transfer hubs and local vaccine manufacturing capacity in low- and middle-income countries. We further suggest reforming the IP system to create a robust global technology transfer mechanism and to stimulate faster sharing of patented medicines and vaccines.

I. “The Lost Year” of COVID-19 Deaths

Paradoxically, IP may be partly responsible for hundreds of thousands of lives lost in 2021 due to insufficient supply of vaccines and inequitable access during the critical first year of vaccine rollout, most notably in low-income countries that could not buy or manufacture vaccines to save their populations. A mathematical modeling study published in The Lancet in September 2022 found that 45 percent of deaths in low-income countries could have been averted if just 20 percent of the most high-risk patients in those countries had been vaccinated in 2021—the goal initially set in April 2020 by the COVID-19 Vaccines Global Access (COVAX) facility to ensure equitable access to vaccines upon vaccine availability. As The Lancet study notes regrettably, however, “[d]ue to vaccine shortfalls, these targets were not achieved by the end of 2021,”[6] and substantial numbers of deaths in the poorest nations were not averted as in rich countries.

What accounts for the COVID-19 vaccine shortfall in the poorest countries during the critical first year of the availability of the COVID-19 vaccine? Despite the benefits of vaccine development and distribution to high- and middle-income countries, 2021 proved to be “the lost year” during which hundreds of thousands of lives in low-income countries could have been saved, virulent variants of COVID-19 could have been stemmed, and the length of the global pandemic could have been shortened. The Lancet study, while acknowledging “the considerable uncertainty inherent in estimating vaccine impact,”[7] concludes that “more lives could have been saved if vaccines had been distributed more rapidly to many parts of the world,” which, going forward, requires that “[[i]]ntellectual property…be shared more quickly in the future, with more open technology and knowledge transfer surrounding vaccine production and allocation.”[8] IP was hardly the only roadblock to a global vaccination campaign in the pandemic response. The Lancet study identifies other critical factors that contributed to the inequitable distribution of vaccines, including misinformation, vaccine hesitancy, insufficient vaccine donations, and poor distribution and delivery infrastructure. But make no mistake: for better and for worse, in the world’s response to the COVID-19 pandemic, IP looms as a central figure.

The role of IP in this crisis is hotly debated. Pharmaceutical companies highlight the role IP played in incentivizing the development of COVID-19 vaccines while downplaying IP’s role in mediating manufacture, access, and distribution.[9] There remains considerable debate about IP’s positive and negative role in pandemics. Is IP’s role limited to developing breakthrough drugs but not their distribution? We readily accept IP’s goal to promote efficiency, but does IP also have an obligation to promote equity? We should pay attention to issues of distributional justice in IP law.[10] This Article seeks to broaden our understanding of the implications of IP in life-saving technologies, from vaccines to diagnostics and therapeutics, during a global pandemic.

While the development of COVID-19 vaccines is a success story, the distribution of COVID-19 vaccines is not. Of 7 billion vaccines administered globally by late 2021, approximately a year after the vaccines were developed, over 70 percent of shots had gone to high-income countries. Less than 4 percent of people in low-income countries received the shot by the end of 2021. In low-income African countries, including Nigeria, Mali, and Uganda, a mere 1 percent of the population had been vaccinated a year after the vaccines were rolled out. Even by early January 2022, a mere 8.5 percent of people in low-income countries had been vaccinated with at least one dose, starkly contrasting to 60 percent vaccinated in high-income countries.[11]

What happened? Despite the best-laid plans in 2020 to equitably distribute vaccines to first inoculate the most at-risk patients around the world in all countries, namely medical providers and the elderly through pre-pledged donations by rich countries, when the critical time came, wealthy country governments instead cut to the front of the line, buying up doses from vaccine producers such as Moderna and Pfizer, often enough to inoculate their populations many times over. Vaccine nationalism became the rule. And because the vaccines were protected by IP supply was limited to a few authorized manufacturers, supply could not keep pace with demand, and low-income countries were left empty-handed. Rich countries pledged donations, but often, the donations failed to materialize or arrived just as the donated vaccines were set to expire.[12] The result was vaccine apartheid. In the words of U.N. Secretary-General António Guterres, “we passed the science test” but received “an F in ethics.”[13]

II. The Diagnosis: Intellectual Property’s Role in the Covid-19 Pandemic

A. Vaccine Development: Fruits of Public-Private Partnership, But Who Calls the Shots?

The development of revolutionary COVID-19 vaccines has been hailed as an IP success story. Pharmaceutical companies like Moderna and Pfizer argue that patents and other IP protections in their groundbreaking mRNA technology were essential to their success. The real story of the successful development of COVID-19 vaccines is more complex. The timely development of the vaccines was not the result of private companies going it alone but instead the fruit of critical public-private partnerships between governments and pharmaceutical companies, with governments investing billions of dollars in research and development, clinical trials, and advanced purchase contracts promising to buy hundreds of millions of doses. These investments significantly de-risked COVID-19 vaccine development by private companies, thus qualifying the usual claim by private corporations to monopoly control in their patented inventions.

In the United States, the Trump Administration launched “Operation Warp Speed” in early 2020, a public-private partnership to hasten the development, manufacturing, and distribution of effective COVID-19 vaccines. Operation Warp Speed paid $14 billion in taxpayer dollars to several private companies racing to develop a cure for the pandemic. Operation Warp Speed funds, plus additional American taxpayer funding, included $1.5 billion for Johnson & Johnson, $1.2 billion for Oxford-AstraZeneca, and $2.48 billion for Moderna. These funds were for research and development, including costly clinical trials and advance purchase orders.[14] While Pfizer did not receive Operation Warp Speed funding for research and development, it did receive $2 billion from the Operation Warp Speed budget for an advance-purchase order to manufacture 100 million doses of a COVID-19 vaccine for use in the United States when the vaccine was shown to be safe and authorized for use by the FDA.[15] Companies like Moderna also benefited enormously from publicly funded research supported by the National Institutes of Health (NIH).[16]

Public-private partnership is the rule, not the exception, when it comes to vaccine development. As leading public health scholar Lawrence Gostin writes, “[t]he intellectual property system does not generally incentivize companies to produce vaccines or medicines intended for small or uncertain markets.”[17] Developing new vaccines can cost billions of dollars and take several years, with no promise of return on investment, especially for diseases primarily afflicting populations in low-income countries.[18] Focusing on cures to the legal innovation infrastructure for pandemics, Gostin makes the case to “overcome market disincentives through targeted financing and partnerships.”[19] Decades of experience well before the pandemic teach that we cannot rely on IP alone for vaccine production, which only incentivizes market-driven innovation. It is no surprise that in the context of COVID-19, it was ultimately government funding that got Moderna over the finish line.[20]

The breakthrough COVID-19 vaccines demonstrate the critical role of public-private partnerships in vaccine development. Patents incentivize pharmaceutical companies to innovate certain drugs that serve those who can afford to pay. But publicly-funded university and government research, alongside public-private partnerships, are key for vaccines that address uncertain diseases and often in low-resource settings. Just as private companies like Moderna had invested large sums in their research for years before the pandemic, the NIH had invested over $17 billion in vaccine research between 2000 and 2019, which was critical to the breakthrough COVID-19 vaccines.[21] A study of the funding for the Oxford-AstraZeneca vaccine, which committed to manufacture 1.3 billion doses for low-income countries, concluded that “public and charitable funders provided the majority of identifiable funding to the University of Oxford towards the R&D of the Oxford–AstraZeneca vaccine…which may have significant implications for the global discourse around vaccine nationalism and COVID-19 health technology access.”[22]

Recognizing the critical role of public funding is a first step to understanding the need for increased governmental authority over how these technologies are shared, licensed, and ultimately distributed. A critical problem, however, is that though COVID-19 vaccines were the fruit of significant public investment, this taxpayer-funded innovation is trapped in corporate monopolies that allow private companies to call all the shots for this technology. As we explore further, even though companies like Moderna announced they would not enforce their patents on the mRNA vaccine,[23] generic companies were unable to manufacture the vaccines themselves for fear of violating Moderna’s other IP rights and because the generic producers lacked critical “know-how” from Moderna, which still held essential knowledge of how to safely and effectively make the vaccines under lock and key in the form of tacit knowledge and trade secrets. Companies like Moderna and Pfizer refused to share this critical knowledge beyond a handful of licensed manufacturers, leading to an undersupply of vaccines during critical months in 2021 when billions more doses were needed to vaccinate vulnerable populations in rich and poor countries. Worse, governments seem to have thrown away their shot to compel companies to share technology with more manufacturers to ramp up production of life-saving shots. Now, we continue analyzing what went wrong during the COVID-19 pandemic, turning next to the colossal failure to distribute COVID-19 vaccines equitably.

B. Vaccine Distribution: Failure of Philanthropy

Even before effective COVID-19 vaccines were developed in late 2020, global health experts predicted a frenzied global race to procure a limited supply of vaccines that would leave low- and middle-income countries waiting at the back of the line. Two Western leaders of world health organizations imagined a way out of this dilemma. In early 2020, Richard Hatchett, director of the Coalition for Epidemic Preparedness Innovations, and Seth Berkley, the head of the Vaccine Alliance, or Gavi, brainstormed and established the COVID-19 Vaccines Global Access (COVAX) facility.[24] COVAX would have rich countries pledge funds to pool vaccine purchases targeted to low-income countries. The goal was for COVAX to pool funds from rich countries to enable COVAX to purchase 2 billion vaccine doses to deliver to low- and middle-income countries. If all went according to plan, COVAX would procure enough vaccines to ensure that 20 percent of the most vulnerable citizens in all countries, namely medical workers and the elderly, were vaccinated by the end of 2021, regardless of a country’s wealth.

Ultimately, COVAX did not achieve even half its goal,[25] and low-income countries fell tragically behind in vaccinations. Rich countries rushed to make advanced purchases of shots directly from vaccine producers like Moderna and Pfizer, with some countries, like Canada, procuring enough doses to vaccinate their population many times over.[26] The well-planned vaccine diplomacy COVAX leaders imagined gave way instead to vaccine nationalism and hoarding.

Companies like Moderna and Pfizer, which closely held critical knowledge about mRNA vaccine production through patents and tacit knowledge or “know-how,” licensed only a handful of manufacturers to produce vaccines. The limited supply raised the prices of the vaccines, and the drug companies catered almost exclusively[27] to wealthy countries and regions such as the United States, the EU, and Israel. These same companies had no market incentive to ramp up manufacturing for shots for low-income countries who could not afford to pay much more than the manufacturing price. There was little left over from a limited supply of vaccines for COVAX to purchase on behalf of low-income countries. High-income countries did not donate to COVAX as promised. Left underfunded and undersupplied, COVAX could not compete to secure vaccines. Worse still, leaders of African and other low-income countries were told they could not seek to procure doses directly from developers but that they had to go through COVAX.

Many have opined on why COVAX failed. Public health scholars Matt Kavanagh and Renu Singh have offered a scathing critique of COVAX’s “demand-side model” built on private property and market-based tools.[28] Kavanagh and Singh blame COVAX’s reliance on the status quo concerning strong IP rights for corporations.[29] This market-based approach ignored the public investment in vaccine development and the critical public interest in equitable vaccine access to end a pandemic where no one is safe unless everyone is safe. From the start, the parties at the table leading the COVAX initiative, including the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, insisted that pharmaceutical companies should retain strong IP rights in vaccines,[30] imposing no obligations on companies to share their knowledge and relying instead on the charity of rich countries to pool funds to purchase IP-protected vaccines for the poor, or on private pharmaceutical companies to transfer knowledge voluntarily.

Neither happened. Ultimately, waiting for voluntary funding (by wealthy countries) or voluntary sharing of technology (by pharmaceutical companies) was in vain. Most notably, because COVAX did not alter the status quo rules of IP, companies like Moderna and Pfizer had no market incentive, nor were they legally compelled to license their technologies to more manufacturers to increase global vaccine supply.

C. Failure of Technology Transfer of Critical Vaccine Production “Know-How”

The pandemic also demonstrated corporate actors’ failure to voluntarily share critical trade secrets required to scale up the production of vaccines. Notably, even more than patents, trade secrets in the form of corporate “know-how” and “show-how” with respect to how to make safe and effective vaccines proved to be critical technology at play during the COVID-19 pandemic. Unlike in earlier public health crises, such as the AIDS epidemic of the late 1990s and early 2000s, compulsory licensing of patents was not enough to facilitate the production of COVID-19 vaccines by generic producers. Effective and safe production of vaccines, in particular the new mRNA vaccines produced by Pfizer and Moderna, were not easily replicated with the patented formula alone but required affirmative sharing of corporate know-how and show-how in order to make the vaccines safely and effectively. But companies such as Pfizer and Moderna did not voluntarily share this IP with the technology access pool created by the World Health Organization known as C-TAP[31] or with potential vaccine manufacturers in low- and middle-income countries. The failure of companies to voluntarily share this know-how and of governments to mandate sharing proved deadly.

In the end, waiting for voluntary funding or donations of doses (by wealthy countries) or voluntary sharing of technology (by pharmaceutical companies) was in vain. Notably, COVAX and C-TAP, premised on voluntary sharing, did not alter the status quo rules of IP. Companies like Moderna and Pfizer had no market incentive, nor were they legally compelled to license their technologies to more manufacturers to increase global vaccine supply. A critical lesson of COVAX and C-TAP is that in the early months of a pandemic, increasing the supply of vaccines is only accomplished by compelling technology transfer by companies holding the secrets to making life-saving vaccines. We discuss proposals for spurring technology transfer of know-how in Part IV.

III. The Failure of Institutions: The Rise and Demise of the WTO IP Waiver

Equitable access to medicines in a pandemic is both a human rights issue and a pragmatic one: no one is safe unless everyone is safe. We now turn to an alternative approach to global public health in pandemic times outside of the IP system. Publicly funded vaccines and other life-saving technologies, such as masks, diagnostic tests, and drug treatments, are necessary goods that must be made widely available in pandemic times to save human lives and to end a pandemic. An alternative approach spearheaded by countries in the Global South rejects monopoly rights on life-saving knowledge during the emergency of a pandemic, focusing on the need to scale up equitable supply and distribution of goods massively. Thus far, this alternative has failed, partly due to structural disempowerment in yet another global governance institution focusing on IP: the World Trade Organization (WTO).

In contrast to the philanthropy approach of COVAX that would leave IP protections in place, in the WTO, low- and middle-income countries led an alternate effort to waive IP rights to enable global manufacturers to scale up vaccine production to get desperately needed vaccines in Africa and other poor regions. In response to the exceptional circumstances of the COVID-19 pandemic, South Africa and India submitted an IP waiver request to the WTO in October 2020.[32] They proposed waiving the implementation, application, and enforcement of Sections 1, 4, 5, and 7 of Part 2[33] of the Agreement on Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights (TRIPS Agreement).[34] The waiver proposal was unprecedented in the history of IP protection because it was intended to trigger a moratorium on protecting IP rights, including copyright and related rights, industrial designs, patents, and undisclosed information. Once adopted, the waiver would remain until widespread vaccination was in place globally and most of the world’s population had developed COVID-19 immunity.[35]

In their submission, South Africa and India further asserted that IP rights were a major cause of the manufacturing and supply problems with diagnostic kits, personal protective equipment, ventilators, medicine, and vaccines.[36] While some countries were in a position to overcome supply issues by manufacturing their medical products, many developing or least-developed countries (LDCs) were not and, therefore, would remain extremely vulnerable without the rapid scaling up of global production.[37] Therefore, they argued that an unprecedented solution was needed to address the impact of a pandemic that could not be effectively contained without expeditious access to affordable medicines and vaccines.[38]

World leaders, policymakers, and scholars had high hopes for the IP waiver proposal, with more than 120 countries supporting it as of May 2021.[39] Most notably, American President Joe Biden issued a statement that month outlining his support for the proposal.[40]

Proponents of the waiver claimed it was a necessary response to the COVID-19 crisis.[41] Just as the AIDS crisis prompted the Doha Declaration on the TRIPS Agreement and Public Health in 2001, the scale of the COVID-19 pandemic necessitated an immediate and substantive response.[42] Since December 2020, when the United States Food and Drug Administration approved the first COVID-19 vaccine, vaccine inequity has prolonged human suffering in many developing countries. While the United States and the United Kingdom had already vaccinated roughly half their populations by early May 2021, vaccination rates in developing economies were significantly lower,[43] with India having vaccinated just 9.4 percent of its population and Asia and Africa’s overall vaccination levels standing at just 4.4 percent and below 1 percent, respectively.[44] Worse still, owing to the extortionate prices charged by pharmaceutical companies, governments worldwide purchased COVID-19 vaccines at prices up to 24 times the estimated cost of production.[45]

Despite the widespread support noted above, the European Union (EU) and Big Pharma vehemently opposed the IP waiver. A much smaller group of high-income countries contested that IP played a significant role in stunting the manufacture and distribution of vaccines in 2021. At a TRIPS Council meeting, the EU asserted that “there is no indication that IPR issues have been a genuine barrier to COVID-19-related medicines and technologies.”[46] Pharmaceutical companies acknowledged that IP protection had been important in incentivizing them to develop COVID-19 vaccines. However, they disputed that IP had any role in the failed distribution effort. In expressing his objections to the IP waiver, Pfizer’s CEO claimed that while a sizeable company like his would continue to invest in science, he was unsure “if the same is true for the thousands of small biotech innovators that are dependent on accessing capital from investors who invest only on the premise that their intellectual property will be protected.”[47]

In June 2021, the EU submitted a counterproposal to the TRIPS Council, insisting that countries take full advantage of the compulsory licensing scheme for patents under the TRIPS Agreement. One month after the postponement of its Twelfth Ministerial Conference in November 2021, the WTO held a series of informal negotiations with the EU, India, South Africa, and the US at the ministerial and technical levels. The result was the “Quad” proposal, which adopted the compulsory licensing measures proposed by the EU and limited the waiver effects to vaccines alone, as requested by the United States.[48]

Based on the Quad proposal, the WTO Ministerial Conference adopted the Ministerial Decision on the TRIPS Agreement[49] in June 2022. The Decision clarifies, among other things, three primary existing flexibilities allowing developing countries to invoke compulsory licensing of patented technology under TRIPS Article 31 to contain the COVID-19 pandemic. First, eligible developing countries can expeditiously issue compulsory licensing orders to use patents (including patents on medical ingredients and production processes) necessary for producing COVID-19 vaccines without passing formal laws[50] and without obtaining permission from the patent holders.[51] Second, any eligible developing country can export COVID-19 vaccines produced through compulsory licensing to another eligible developing country. Third, eligible developing countries can also remunerate affected patent holders in lesser amounts because “the humanitarian and not-for-profit purpose” of vaccine production must be considered.[52] The Ministerial Decision also clarifies the ability of countries to access otherwise protected regulatory data under TRIPS 39.3 to promote expeditious vaccine approvals.[53]

The Ministerial Decision officially tolled the death knell of the IP waiver proposal because it does not waive the implementation of any IP protection provision under the TRIPS Agreement.[54] Lengthy negotiations lasting for nearly one year and eight months resulted only in clarifications of pre-existing TRIPS flexibilities that developing countries were already entitled to capitalize on, even without such clarifications. The waiver was limited to vaccines and did not include diagnostics and treatments, as India and South Africa initially proposed. Notably, the Ministerial Decision is limited to technology covered by patents and does nothing to address the most difficult technology transfer challenges to scaling up vaccine production, which requires access to know-how and show-how not covered by patents. Finally, as it applies only to the COVID-19 pandemic, the Decision does not proactively deal with public health emergencies caused by future pandemics.

IV. The Cure: Spurring Technology Transfer to Promote Supply, Access, and Agency

It is critically important to go beyond a diagnosis of what went wrong to develop cures to promote timely and equitable access to critical medicines necessary to save lives in the next pandemic. Given the failure of voluntary mechanisms during the COVID-19 pandemic, reforms proposed and canvassed here focus on mechanisms to spur technology transfer, including critical know-how and show how low- and middle-income country manufacturers can build capacity now so in the event of a future pandemic they may be self-sufficient and ready to produce vaccines and essential medicines themselves.

In particular, we recommend the following:

  • Strengthen technology transfer mechanisms, including modifying the patent system to require greater disclosure of tacit knowledge and know-how related to the manufacturing of vaccines, diagnostics, and therapeutics; placing knowledge-transfer obligations on patentees receiving significant public funding through ex-ante contracts; and strengthening Article 66.2 of the TRIPS Agreement to ensure that developed countries fulfill their obligation to promote technology transfer to least-developed countries;
  • Establish a global mechanism for monitoring and assessing technology transfer to measure whether developed countries are effectively incentivizing technology transfer to least-developed countries;
  • Foster local manufacturing capacity, including facilitating the sharing of tacit knowledge and financing regional technology transfer hubs; and
  • Facilitate faster sharing of medicines and vaccines protected by patents by amending TRIPS flexibilities to enable the expedited export of medicines and vaccines from countries with manufacturing capacity to those without during public health crises. Amendments must address the complexities and limitations of the existing compulsory licensing system and make it more effective and efficient.

Technology transfer cannot wait until the next pandemic. This process must begin to help scale up local production capacity in Africa and other low- and middle-income regions through funding and knowledge sharing with regional technology transfer hubs, including mRNA technology transfer hubs.

A. Strengthening Technology Transfer Mechanisms

Enhancing mechanisms of technology transfer is key to equitable access and distribution of vaccines during a pandemic. Peter Lee has described the current paradox: though patents are premised on a quid pro quo in which inventors receive exclusive rights in exchange for disclosing a novel invention, disclosure rules under current American patent rules exclude from protection tacit knowledge and critical know-how that is necessary for those skilled in the art to manufacture the vaccines. Lee suggests modifying the patent quid pro quo model to require greater tacit knowledge disclosure from patentees, for instance, by resurrecting the best mode requirement and imposing an ongoing requirement to disclose information related to commercializing technologies, particularly for vaccines, diagnostics, and therapeutics.

Lee also suggests that public institutions should place knowledge-transfer obligations on patentees receiving significant public funding, such as biopharmaceutical firms holding patents on COVID-19 vaccines.[55] Sapna Kumar and Ana Santos Rutschman similarly propose an ex-ante approach, arguing that governments and non-governmental funders should integrate pandemic planning into contracts used to fund medical research, for example, through dormant licenses that would be triggered in the event of drug shortages in a pandemic. The licenses would require recipients of public funding to assure that any resulting drug will be made available in sufficient quantity and at accessible prices. Recipients would also agree to share technology and know-how with a qualified third-party manufacturer in exchange for payment of royalties. As Kumar and Rutschman argue, by acting proactively, governments can reduce drug shortages during future pandemics and save lives.[56]

David Levine and Josh Sarnoff argue that many mechanisms already exist to allow governments to compel trade secret holders to share know-how in public health emergencies, including the Defense Production Act under existing federal law in the United States. Levine and Sarnoff argue that the primary obstacle to mandatory disclosure of trade secrets is not law—even TRIPS “does not prohibit governments from compelling trade secret rights,” they write—but rather, political will. Like Kumar and Rutschman, Levine and Sarnoff advocate for reasonable compensation to trade secret holders for compelled disclosure to promote access in some cases. In addition, they propose that sharing trade secrets may be encouraged with legislative nudges and incentives.[57] Others, like Kavanagh and Singh, advocate for internationally binding commitments to share know-how, including mechanisms to encourage compliance with a built-in expectation of national self-interest.[58]

Legal mechanisms to facilitate sharing are critical for vaccine distribution and also for vaccine development. Taking a different tack on the issue of technology transfer, Laura Pedraza-Fariña argues for the creation of legal infrastructure that allows and encourages sharing knowledge among researchers across multiple disciplines to nurture the “boundary-crossing innovation” necessary to cure complex diseases.[59]

B. Establish a Global Mechanism for Monitoring and Assessing Technology Transfer

In addition to these suggestions, we urge that the technology transfer mechanism in the TRIPS Agreement itself also be strengthened. Article 66.2 of the TRIPS Agreement states that “[d]eveloped country Members shall provide incentives to enterprises and institutions in their territories to promote and encourage technology transfer to least-developed country Members to enable them to create a sound and viable technological base.” The 2001 WTO Ministerial Conference and subsequent Doha Declaration made it clear that this provision imposes a mandatory obligation on developed countries.

Nevertheless, the WTO has yet to establish a mechanism for monitoring and assessing whether and how developed countries have fulfilled this treaty obligation. In 2003, the TRIPS Council set up an Article 66.2 reporting system that requires developed countries to submit detailed reports every three years and annual reports updating them.[60] However, the system lacks sufficient teeth to ensure developed countries’ compliance with their Article 66.2 obligation.[61] Submitting a report does not necessarily mean that a developed country’s self-assessment has rendered it compliant with Article 66.2. For instance, despite the increase in annual reports submitted, many of the programs reported by developed countries did not even target LDCs.[62] Therefore, the transfer of technology from developed countries to LDCs has been described as “lackluster” by both least-developed member states and WTO officials.[63]

Still lacking is a global mechanism that can evaluate two critical aspects of the Article 66.2 obligation: first, whether a developed country has taken effective actions to incentivize technology transfer to an LDC and, second, whether such actions have contributed to the growth of a technological base in the LDC concerned. It is incumbent upon the WTO to reshape the reporting system operated by the TRIPS Council into a global mechanism capable of monitoring and critically assessing whether developed countries have met these two aspects of their obligation and of making recommendations on any necessary follow-up actions. A major focus of this mechanism would be the transfer of technologies that could boost the least-developed countries’ capacity to manufacture medical products.[64]

The COVID-19 pandemic has demonstrated the urgent need to establish such a global mechanism, thereby providing the international community with a prime opportunity to pressure the WTO and developed countries to adopt reform measures and accept the mechanism to stimulate the transfer of soft and hard technologies.[64] The transfer of soft technologies, such as substantial know-how to LDCs, is necessary to boost the production of COVID-19 vaccines because vaccines are complex biological products heavily dependent on specific manufacturing processes and practices often not disclosed in a patent.[66] For instance, it is very difficult to replicate biological processes involving recombinant proteins from the information contained in patents alone, as “the high degree of process dependence in the cell-mediated synthesis of biologics” makes it “quite possible that an attempt to make the patented protein by a different method will yield a product that lacks the asserted utility of the claimed invention.”[67] The cost and effort of reverse-engineering originator firm manufacturing processes have contributed to a history of delays in the entry of biosimilars into the market. In one recent case, Inovio even claimed in a court filing that its plan to expand the manufacturing scale of the experimental COVID-19 vaccine was being blocked by a supplier’s refusal to share critical manufacturing information.[68]

C. Fostering and Financing Local Manufacturing Capacity

The reliance of much of the Global South on imports proved deadly. Going forward, we must move from a dependency model to build capacity for local vaccine production in critical regional hubs around the world, including Latin America, Asia, and Africa. William Fisher, Ruth Okediji, and Padmashree Gehl Sampath outline a multi-step strategy to foster local production capacity for vaccines and pharmaceuticals in the Global South, which includes building domestic legal infrastructure to regulate and support local drug production, government purchasing of medicines and vaccines, technology transfer through apprenticeships, robust quality-control, and capitalizing on the economic and political power of regional economic communities in Africa, Latin America, and Asia.[69]

Efforts have begun to establish WHO-supported technology transfer hubs in key locations in Latin America, Asia, and Africa. The African Union has set a goal to build capacity to locally produce 60 percent of the continent’s vaccine needs by 2040. This is a hefty goal, as Africa currently imports 99 percent of its vaccines. The WHO is supporting an mRNA technology transfer hub at Afrigen in Cape Town, South Africa, and the hub has had significant initial successes.[70] However, securing financing for the hubs presents a significant hurdle. The WHO is struggling to raise the significant finances necessary to establish other planned hubs in countries such as Brazil, India,[71] and Nigeria.[72] In the meantime, access to critical mRNA know-how, held by Moderna and Pfizer, continues to be elusive, as these firms have thus far failed to offer significant support to the initiatives.[73]

The United States and other developed countries must give robust “financial and logistical” support to regional tech transfer hubs in Africa and elsewhere now. As Pedraza-Fariña explains,  “know-how transfer, in particular when new technologies are involved, is notoriously tricky” and requires “learning-by-doing … [that] can only happen through immersive training” through, for example, regional tech-transfer hubs. Countries such as Indonesia, Thailand, and Vietnam are “some of the only lower-income countries that are now producing COVID-19 vaccines,” she writes, because of the positive spillovers of having participated in an influenza vaccine technology transfer program spearheaded by the WHO in 2005.[74] Critical investment in technology transfer hubs in diverse regions in the Global South is needed so countries can build their knowledge and capacity now for success in future pandemics.

D. Facilitating Faster Sharing of Medicines and Vaccines through TRIPS

The TRIPS Agreement should create a new global mechanism that can effectively facilitate faster export of patented medicines and vaccines from a country with adequate manufacturing capacity to another without such capacity when a public health crisis occurs. Article 31bis of the TRIPS Agreement was designed to meet this goal. It allows a member state that cannot manufacture patented medicines or vaccines under compulsory licensing to import them from another member state. However, the compulsory licensing system has proved to be fatally ineffective, not only because of the complexity, length, and cost of its undertaking process but also because of the burdensome requirements, challenge of recovering expenditures, and resulting lack of incentives for generic manufacturers.[75] For example, the exporting country must ensure that generic drugs are exported only to the importing country, are easily identifiable in color or shape as generic drugs, and are manufactured only in the specific amount necessary to meet the importing country’s requirements.[76] Achieving economies of scale in countries with little manufacturing capacity presents further obstacles.[77] Therefore, the Article 31bis mechanism remains in limbo because few countries have revised their domestic laws to activate it.[78] Since its introduction in 2003, the mechanism has been used only once.[79] That sole instance involved collaboration between Rwanda as the importing country and Canada as the exporting country for the antiretroviral drug Apo-TriAvir. It took the Canadian generic company Apotex three years to supply this much-needed medicine, which is much too slow in the context of a pandemic.[80]

The COVID-19 pandemic also highlighted serious problems with the Article 31bis mechanism. In spring 2021, Biolyse, a Canadian pharmaceutical company, attempted to take advantage of compulsory licensing to provide 15 million doses of the Johnson & Johnson COVID-19 vaccine to Bolivia, where only around 5 percent of the population had thus far been vaccinated. However, the Canadian government refused to grant a compulsory license to allow Biolyse to manufacture the vaccine using Johnson & Johnson’s patent.[81] Similarly, in Spring 2022, in the face of vehement opposition from Pfizer, the Dominican Republic declined to grant a compulsory licensing order to manufacture Paxlovid, Pfizer’s patented medicine for treating COVID-19 infection.[82]

Although the Ministerial Decision seeks to accelerate the compulsory licensing process to enable developing countries to contain the COVID-19 pandemic, it has not fixed any major problems with the Article 31bis mechanism. The export permit that the Decision has introduced is virtually meaningless. It allows an eligible developing country to export vaccines that it produces to another eligible country. However, because China and India, the two developing countries with the greatest vaccine manufacturing capacity, are excluded from being eligible beneficiaries of the Decision, the export permit is infeasible in practice. No other developing country can swiftly manufacture vaccines to meet the public health needs of another developing country.

Moreover, because the Decision applies only to the production of COVID-19 vaccines, no eligible developing country can avail itself of compulsory licensing to offer COVID-19 diagnostics and therapeutics.[83] In the last quarter of 2022, there was an oversupply of COVID-19 vaccines internationally.[84] What is badly needed are testing tools and treatment medicines in the many countries where people are vaccinated yet still become infected with COVID-19.

Against this backdrop, the international community should endeavor to create a global mechanism to facilitate faster sharing of patented medicines and vaccines to deal with the COVID-19 pandemic and any future public health crisis. We must enhance compulsory licensing to achieve the faster export of medicines and vaccines.[84] In the case of chronic diseases such as HIV/AIDS, people could wait years for effective medicines exported by countries that can take advantage of the Article 31bis mechanism. However, most public health crises are caused by highly transmissible viruses, creating an urgent need for life-saving medicines and vaccines.

Conclusion

It is time to revisit the toxic marriage between IP and health: in sickness and in health, till death do us part. The tradeoff–breakthrough innovation in exchange for monopoly rights that raise prices and keep critical know-how under lock and key–does not work in pandemic times. Vaccines, the workhorse tool for saving lives and ending a pandemic, are often the result of public-private partnerships, as markets alone do not sufficiently incentivize these investments. Given significant public investments in vaccines, it is not appropriate that the know-how underlying these technologies should be trapped in private monopolies, with pharmaceutical companies calling all the shots. Sharing life-saving technologies underlying pandemic vaccines is critical to boosting vaccine production and promoting equitable access to vaccines in a timely fashion. Developing legal mechanisms for mandatory technology transfer in publicly-financed vaccines is critical now to help build local manufacturing capacity in the Global South so low- and middle-income countries are not again trapped in a state of dependence on the charity of the Global North. In a global pandemic, no one is safe unless everyone is safe. Widespread and equitable vaccine access is a moral imperative because it saves millions of lives. Equitable vaccination is also key to stemming new variants and promoting the global economy’s well-being. As late public health experts Paul Farmer and Sister Simone Campbell wrote in May 2021, “Only a people’s vaccine that is accessible to all will end the pandemic.”[86]

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* Madhavi Sunder is the Frank Sherry Professor of Intellectual Property Law at the Georgetown University Law Center. Haochen Sun is a Professor of Law at the University of Hong Kong Faculty of Law. The authors are grateful to Bill Alford, Mark Wu, and Peter Yu for comments, as well as to students at Harvard Law School and Texas A&M University Law School. Special thanks to Eva Bishwal for excellent research assistance.

[1] See Haochen Sun, Technology and the Public Interest 156-58 (2022).

[2] Oliver J. Watson et al., Global Impact of the First Year of Covid-19 Vaccination: A Mathematical Modelling Study, 22 The Lancet Infectious Diseases 1293 (2022).

[3] Id.

[4] See generally, Matthew M. Kavanagh, Lawrence O. Gostin & Madhavi Sunder, Sharing Technology and Vaccine Doses to Address Global Vaccine Inequity and End the COVID-19 Pandemic, 326 JAMA 219 (2021), https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jama/fullarticle/2781756; Matthew M. Kavanagh & Madhavi Sunder, Biden Must Push Drug Firms To Share Science With the World, BL (Apr. 23, 2021), https://news.bloomberglaw.com/health-law-and-business/biden-must-push-drug-firms-to-share-science-with-the-world; Matthew M. Kavanagh & Madhavi Sunder, Poor Countries May Not Be Vaccinated Until 2024. Here’s How To Prevent That, Wash. Post (Mar. 10, 2021), https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2021/03/10/dont-let-intellectual-property-rights-get-way-global-vaccination/.

[5] Zero Draft of The WHO CA+ for The Consideration of The Intergovernmental Negotiating Body at its Fourth Meeting, 7 World Health Organization [WHO], https://apps.who.int/gb/inb/pdf_files/inb4/A_INB4_3-en.pdf (last visited Aug. 12, 2023).

[6] Watson et al., supra note 2.

[7] Id. at 1300.

[8] Id. at 1300-01.

[9] See Sheryl G. Stolberg et al., Pressure Mounts to Lift Patent Protections on Coronavirus Vaccines, N.Y. Times (May 17, 2021), https://www.nytimes.com/2021/05/03/us/politics/biden-coronavirus-vaccine-patents.html.

[10] See generally, Anupam Chander & Madhavi Sunder, The Romance of the Public Domain, 92 Calif. L. Rev. 1331 (2004); Madhavi Sunder, The Invention of Traditional Knowledge, 70 Law & Contemp. Probs. 95 (2007).

[11] See Coronavirus (COVID-19) Vaccinations, https://ourworldindata.org/covid-vaccinations.

[12] Ali Sawafta & Rami Ayyub, Palestinians Cancel Deal for Near-Expired COVID Vaccines from Israel, Reuters (June 18, 2021), https://www.reuters.com/world/middle-east/israel-give-palestinians-1-million-covid-vaccine-doses-israeli-statement-2021-06-18/#:~:text=TEL%20AVIV%2C%20June%2018%20(Reuters,the%20PA%20health%20minister%20said.

[13] Michelle Nichols, U.N. Chief Grades World on Vaccine Rollout: ‘F In Ethics’, The Guardian (Sept. 21, 2021), https://www.reuters.com/business/healthcare-pharmaceuticals/un-chief-grades-world-vaccine-rollout-f-ethics-2021-09-21/.

[14] Congressional Research Service, Operation Warp Speed Contracts for COVID-19 Vaccines and Ancillary Materials (Mar. 1, 2021), https://crsreports.congress.gov/product/pdf/IN/IN11560.

[15] Sydney Lupkin, Pfizer’s Coronavirus Vaccine Supply Contract Excludes Many Taxpayer Protections, NPR (Nov. 24, 2021), https://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2020/11/24/938591815/pfizers-coronavirus-vaccine-supply-contract-excludes-many-taxpayer-protections.

[16] Arthur Allen, For Billion-Dollar COVID Vaccines, Basic Government-Funded Science Laid the Groundwork,  Scientific American (Nov. 18, 2020), https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/for-billion-dollar-covid-vaccines-basic-government-funded-science-laid-the-groundwork/.

[17] Lawrence O. Gostin, Global Health Security: A Blueprint for the Future 193 (2021).

[18] Id. at 194.

[19] Id.

[20] Sharon LaFraniere et al., Politics, Science and the Remarkable Race for a Coronavirus Vaccine, N.Y. Times (Nov. 21, 2020), https://www.nytimes.com/2020/11/21/us/politics/coronavirus-vaccine.html (“Moderna got nearly $2.5 billion to develop, manufacture and sell its vaccine to the federal government and teamed up with the National Institutes of Health on the scientific work, a highly successful partnership that managed to sidestep the political meddling by Mr. Trump and his aides that had bedeviled other efforts to confront the virus.”).

[21] Anthony E. Kiszewski et al., NIH Funding for Vaccine Readiness Before The COVID-19 Pandemic, 39 Vaccine 2458 (2021).

[22] Samuel Cross et al., Who Funded The Research Behind The Oxford–Astrazeneca COVID-19 Vaccine?, BMJ Global Health (Nov. 17, 2021), https://gh.bmj.com/content/bmjgh/6/12/e007321.full.pdf.

[23] Press Release, Statement by Moderna on Intellectual Property Matters During the Covid-19 Pandemic (Oct. 8, 2020), https://investors.modernatx.com/Statements–Perspectives/Statements–Perspectives-Details/2020/Statement-by-Moderna-on-Intellectual-Property-Matters-during-the-COVID-19-Pandemic/default.aspx.

[24] Adam Taylor, Why Covax, the Best Hope for Vaccinating the World, Was Doomed to Fall Short, Wash. Post (Mar. 22, 2022), https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/2022/03/22/covax-problems-coronavirus-vaccines-next-pandemic/.

[25] Adam Taylor, Covax Promised 2 Billion Vaccine Doses to Help the World’s Neediest in 2021. It Won’t Deliver Even Half That, Wash. Post (Dec. 10, 2021), https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/2021/12/10/covax-doses-delivered/.

[26] Sandrine Rastello & Kait Bolongaro, Canada Has Reserved More Vaccine Doses Per Person Than Anywhere, Bloomberg (Dec. 7, 2020), https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2020-12-07/canada-has-reserved-more-vaccine-doses-per-person-than-anywhere#xj4y7vzkg.

[27] Amnesty International, Covid-19: Pharmaceutical Companies’ Failure on Equal Vaccine Access Contributed to Human Rights Catastrophe In 2021 (Feb. 14, 2022), https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/news/2022/02/covid-19-pharmaceutical-companies-failure-on-equal-vaccine-access-contributed-human-rights-catastrophe-in-2021/ (reported that in 2021, Pfizer and Moderna “projected revenues of up to US $54 billion, yet supplied less than 2% of their vaccines to low-income countries”).

[28] Matthew M. Kavanagh & Renu Singh, Legal Paradigms and the Politics of Global COVID-19 Vaccine Access, in Intellectual Property, COVID-19, and the Next Pandemic: Diagnosing Problems, Developing Cures (Haochen Sun & Madhavi Sunder eds., forthcoming 2024).

[29] Id.

[30] Erin Banco et al., How Bill Gates and Partners Used Their Clout To Control the Global Covid Response — With Little Oversight, Politico (Sept. 14, 2022), https://www.politico.com/news/2022/09/14/global-covid-pandemic-response-bill-gates-partners-00053969 (”During the pandemic, the foundation pushed back publicly on pressuring pharmaceutical companies to share its intellectual property, saying doing so would do little to spur rigorous vaccine development in the short term”).

[31] Michael Safi, WHO Platform for Pharmaceutical Firms Unused Since Pandemic Began, The Guardian (Jan. 22, 2021).

[32] Communication from India and South Africa, Waiver from Certain Provisions of the TRIPS Agreement for the Prevention and Containment and Treatment of COVID-19, WTO Doc. IP/C/W/669 (Oct. 2, 2020).

[33] See id.

[34] Agreement on Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights art. 31, Apr. 15, 1994, Marrakesh Agreement Establishing the World Trade Organization, Annex 1C, 1869 U.N.T.S. 213999.

[35] See supra note 32.

[36] Id.

[37] See id.

[38] Id.

[39] See Over 120 Countries back IP Rights Waiver on Covid-19 Vaccines, Pharm. Tech. (May 7, 2021), https://www.pharmaceutical-technology.com/news/ip-waiver-covid-19-vaccines/.

[40] See Andrea Shalal et al., U.S. Reverses Stance, Backs Giving Poorer Countries Access to COVID Vaccine Patents, Reuters (May 5, 2021), https://www.reuters.com/business/healthcare-pharmaceuticals/biden-says-plans-back-wto-waiver-vaccines-2021-05-05/.

[41] See, e.g., Siva Thambisetty et al., The TRIPS Intellectual Property Waiver Proposal: Creating the Right Incentives in Patent Law and Politics to end the COVID-19 Pandemic, SSRN Electronic Journal (May 24, 2021), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3851737#.

[42] See Kavanagh & Sunder, Poor Countries May Not Be Vaccinated Until 2024. Here’s How To Prevent That, supra note 4.

[43] See Farasat Bokhari, US-Backed Vaccine Patent Waiver: Pros and Cons Explained, The Conversation (May 6, 2021), https://theconversation.com/us-backed-vaccine-patent-waiver-pros-and-cons-explained-160480.

[44] See id.

[45] See Anna Marriott and Alex Maitland, The Great Vaccine Robbery, The People’s Vaccine (Jul. 29, 2021), https://webassets.oxfamamerica.org/media/documents/The_Great_Vaccine_Robbery_Policy_Brief.pdf.

[46] Thiru Balasubramaniam, WTO Trips Council: European Union Dismisses Concerns that IPRs Are a Barrier to COVID-19 Medicines and Technologies, Knowledge Ecology International (Oct. 20, 2020), https://www.keionline.org/34275.

[47] See Kevin Breuninger, Pfizer CEO Opposes U.S. Call to Waive Covid Vaccine Patents, Cites Manufacturing and Safety Issues, CNBC (May 7, 2021), https://www.cnbc.com/2021/05/07/pfizer-ceo-biden-backed-covid-vaccine-patent-waiver-will-cause-problems.html.

[48] Thiru Balasubramaniam, TRIPS Waiver Negotiations Go Down to the Wire in the Run-Up to MC12, IISD (June 7, 2022), https://www.iisd.org/articles/policy-analysis/trips-waiver-negotiations-mc12.

[49] Ministerial Conference of the World Trade Organization, Ministerial Decision on the TRIPS Agreement adopted on 17 June 2022 (22 June 2022) WT/MIN(22)/30, WT/L/1141.

[50] See id. ¶ 2.

[51] See id. ¶ 3(a).

[52] See id. ¶ 3(d).

[53]Ana S. Rutschman, Introductory Note to Ministerial Decision on the TRIPS Agreement (WTO), 62 Int’l Legal Materials 289 (2023).

[54] See Reto M. Hilty et al., Position Statement of 5 July 2022 on the Decision of the WTO Ministerial Conference on the TRIPS Agreement adopted on 17 June 2022 (“While the Decision refers to ‘clarifications and waiver’, it does not in fact waive any intellectual property (IP) rights as such under the TRIPS Agreement.”).

[55] Peter Lee, New and Heightened Public-Private Quid Pro Quos: Leveraging Public Support to Enhance Private Technical Disclosure, in Intellectual Property, COVID-19, and the Next Pandemic: Diagnosing Problems, Developing Cures (Haochen Sun & Madhavi Sunder eds., forthcoming 2024).

[56] Sapna Kumar & Ana Santos Rutschman, New Licensing Avenues to Promote Public Health, in Intellectual Property, COVID-19, and the Next Pandemic: Diagnosing Problems, Developing Cures (Haochen Sun & Madhavi Sunder eds., forthcoming 2024).

[57] David S. Levine & Joshua D. Sarnoff, Compelling Trade Secret Sharing, in Intellectual Property, COVID-19, and the Next Pandemic: Diagnosing Problems, Developing Cures (Haochen Sun & Madhavi Sunder eds., forthcoming 2024).

[58] Kavanagh & Singh, Legal Paradigms and the Politics of Global COVID-19 Vaccine Access, supra note 28.

[59] Laura Pedraza-Fariña, COVID-19 as a Complex Disease: The Case for a Non-Traditional Team Approach, in Intellectual Property, COVID-19, and the Next Pandemic: Diagnosing Problems, Developing Cures (Haochen Sun & Madhavi Sunder eds., forthcoming 2024).

[60] Jayashree Watal & Leticia Caminero, Least-Developed Countries, Transfer of Technology and the TRIPS Agreement, WTO Staff Working Paper ERSD-2018-01 (Feb. 22, 2018), https://www.wto.org/english/res_e/reser_e/ersd201801_e.pdf.

[61] See Suerie Moon, Does TRIPS Art. 66.2 Encourage Technology Transfer to LDCs? An Analysis of Country Submissions to the TRIPS Council (1999–2007), ICTSD (Dec. 2008), https://unctad.org/system/files/official-document/iprs_pb20092_en.pdf.

[62] See id. (“Many of the policies and programmes reported either barely targeted or did not at all target LDCs.”).

[63] David M. Fox, Technology Transfer and the TRIPS Agreement Are Developed Countries Meeting Their End of the Bargain?, 10 Hastings Sci. & Tech. L.J. 1, 20 (2019).

[64] William Fisher, Ruth Okediji, & Padmashree Gehl Sampath, , Fostering Production of Pharmaceutical Products in Developing Countries, 43 Mich. J. Int’l L. 1, 14 (2022).

[65] Hard technology encompasses physical and tangible assets, including machinery, equipment, and hardware designed for practical applications.

[66] See Ana S. Rutschman & Julia Barnes-Weise, The COVID-19 Vaccine Patent Waiver: The Wrong Tool for the Right Goal, Bill of Health (May 5, 2021), https://blog.petrieflom.law.harvard.edu/2021/05/05/covid-vaccine-patent-waiver/.

[67] Dmitry Karshtedt, Limits on Hard-to-Reproduce Inventions: Process Elements and Biotechnology’s Compliance with the Enablement Requirement, 3 Hastings Sci. & Tech. L.J. 109, 135–36 (2011).

[68] See W. Nicholson Price II et al., Knowledge Transfer for Large-Scale Vaccine Manufacturing, 369 Sci. 912, 912 (2020).

[69] Fisher et al., supra note 64.

[70] Stephanie Nolen, Can Africa Get Close to Vaccine Independence? Here’s What It Will Take, N.Y. Times (April 25, 2023).

[71] See Swati Bharadwaj, WHO to Set Up mRNA Vaccine Hub in Hyderabad As Part of Global Plan, Times of India (February 22, 2023).

[72] See Adam Taylor, Plan to make mRNA vaccines in developing countries needs U.S. funding, backers say, N.Y. Times (March 14, 2023).

[72] Id.

[74] Pedraza-Fariña, supra note 59.

[75] See Dina Halajian, Inadequacy of Trips & the Compulsory License: Why Broad Compulsory Licensing Is Not a Viable Solution to the Access to Medicine Program, 38 Brook. J. Int’l L. 1191, 1203 (2013).

[76] Id. at 1211.

[77] See Prabhash Ranjan, The Case for Waiving Intellectual Property Protection for Covid-19 Vaccines, 456 Observer Rsch. Found. (2021).

[78] See William A. Reinsch, Compulsory Licensing: A Cure for Distributing the Cure?, Center for Strategic & International Studies (May 8, 2020), https://www.csis.org/analysis/compulsory-licensing-cure-distributing-cure.

[79] See Halajian, supra note 75, at 1204.

[80] See Laura Chung, Use of Paragraph 6 Systems for Access to Medicine, 36 n.c. j. int’l l. 137, 170 (2010).

[81] See Kerry Cullinan, Company Pushes Canada to Grant Compulsory License for Johnson & Johnson COVID-19 Vaccine Intellectual Property, Health Policy Watch (Nov. 15, 2021), https://healthpolicy-watch.news/company-pushes-canada-to-grant-compulsory-license-for-johnson-johnson-covid-19-vaccine/.

[82] See Sheryl G. Stolberg, As Poor Nations Seek Covid Pills, Officials Fear Repeat of AIDS Crisis, N.Y. Times (May 11, 2022), https://www.nytimes.com/2022/05/08/us/politics/covid-pills-global-aids-hiv.html.

[83] Ministerial Decision, supra note 49, at ¶ 8.

[84] Francesco Guarascio & Jennifer Rigby, COVID Vaccine Supply for Global Programme Outstrips Demand for First Time, Reuters (Feb. 2, 2023), https://www.reuters.com/business/healthcare-pharmaceuticals/covax-vaccine-supply-outstrips-demand-first-time-2022-02-23/.

[85] See Sun, supra note 1, at 189.

[86] Paul Farmer & Simone Campbell, To Save Lives, We Must Scrap Patent Protections on Coronavirus Vaccines, National Catholic Reporter (May 5, 2021), https://www.ncronline.org/news/coronavirus/save-lives-we-must-scrap-patent-protections-coronavirus-vaccines.

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Cover image credit

Online Scholarship, Perspectives, Ukraine

Making the Case for a Hybrid Chamber at the ICC Part II: The Low-Hanging Fruit for the Assembly of States Parties to the Rome Statute of the ICC

By David Donat Cattin* and Philippa Greer**

Introduction

In our latest article for the Harvard International Law Journal (HILJ) on the topic of modernizing the International Criminal Court (hereinafter “ICC” or “Court”) through the creation of hybrid chambers, we advocated for amendments to the Rome Statute to allow for hybrid chambers at the ICC, which could yield several significant benefits. Most notably, we suggested that the introduction of such chambers could motivate states parties to engage more readily with the Court, incentivize non-party states to join, and accomplish the principal goal of ensuring criminal accountability.

On April 19, 2023, together with Judge Volker Nerlich of the Appeals Chamber of the Special Criminal Court of the Central African Republic, we presented at Harvard Law School further interventions regarding the proposal to introduce a hybrid chamber at the ICC, as well as our experiences concerning hybrid justice, or internationalized domestic jurisdictions, in international criminal law. The discussion that ensued from this thought-provoking HILJ event has prompted a revision of our original article and the issuance of this second part with operational suggestions for legislative drafters. These suggestions are two-fold. First, we propose additional consideration of the need to avoid amendments to the Rome Statute’s articles not falling under the accelerated amendments process provided under Article 122 of the Rome Statute, which specifically envisages reforms of a purely institutional and organizational nature, and hence does not affect states parties’ rights and obligations nor carry any jurisdictional or substantive law implications. Second, we reflect on the vital importance of the outreach and community-based work of judicial institutions, including those hosting hybrid chambers. We exclusively direct this Article’s proposal to the internal law of international organizations, also known as the “proper law of international organisations,” to quote C. Wilfred Jenks (1962).[1] As such, in accordance with the letter and spirit of Article 122 of the Rome Statute, it would be sufficient that a majority of two-thirds of states parties vote for its adoption and immediate entry into force for all states parties, thereby ensuring that there would be no fragmentation and unity would be preserved in the self-contained system of the Statute.

Atrocity crimes pose a global threat to humankind. The progressive development of the practice of international criminal law, in addition to the advancement of the body of international criminal law itself, is essential to the mission of the ICC today. Both are critical to advancing the central objective of international criminal justice, namely, to combat impunity in the face of the gravest crimes of concern to the international community.

In response to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, states embarked on what may emerge as one of the most comprehensive responses to a situation of mass atrocities to date. Forty-three states parties referred the situation in Ukraine to the ICC and thereby allowed the Prosecutor to open an investigation immediately. Many states sent voluntary financial contributions and seconded staff to support the Court (not only to bolster investigations in Ukraine, but also to reinforce the Office of the Prosecutor’s capacities in all the other situations under investigation) and national Ukrainian investigators in their efforts to document war crimes and crimes against humanity. The ICC was invited to participate in complex mechanisms set up by relevant states to address the mounting crime waves in Ukraine, such as the Joint Investigation Team and the International Center for the Prosecutor of Aggression (ICPA) facilitated by the European Union’s Eurojust, and in Libya, specifically, the Joint Team supporting investigations into crimes against migrants and refugees, supported by the European Union Agency for Law Enforcement Cooperation (Europol). These significant developments, which are raising the bar for international cooperation in the global fight against impunity for mass atrocities, all point to the continued international legitimacy of the ICC.

Given the complexities of the subject matter, however, one of the most pressing conversations in international criminal law today is whether and how an ad hoc international jurisdiction or a specialized hybrid court can be set up to address the crime of aggression in Ukraine. The ICC’s  jurisdiction over this crime is characterized by an extremely complicated regime, regarding which some states, led by Germany, and NGOs have been calling for reform. Due to a distinctive feature in its Statute as amended by the Kampala Review Conference (2010), the ICC cannot exercise jurisdiction over the crime of aggression by nationals of non-party states, including Russia (Art. 15 bis, para. 5), or perpetrated through the use of armed forces of states that have not ratified the Statute (Art. 15 bis, para. 4). Accordingly, numerous states are currently considering in tandem the creation of a new judicial mechanism that can exercise jurisdiction over the crime of aggression, with a few scholars insisting that such a court should be hybrid in nature, while a majority have expressed support for a special international tribunal (see, e.g., Oona Hathaway, Yale Law School; Jennifer Trahan, NYU Center for Global Affairs; Astrid Reisinger Coracini, University of Vienna; Philippe Sands, UCL Faculty of Laws; and David Crane, Syracuse University). These proposals are based on Ukraine’s call for, and explicit consent to, the exercise of jurisdiction over the crime of aggression, which is a crime under international law that shocks the conscience of humankind and represents the ultimate infringement on international peace and security. It falls within the framework of which all the other crimes, such as war crimes and crimes against humanity, are “contained” when they are perpetrated as a consequence of the waging of a war of aggression causing an international armed conflict. If this “special tribunal” is created, regardless of its model, there will be strong ownership by the territorial state.

Yet – looking back to the work of the ICC in this area – upon the issuance of arrest warrants against President Vladimir Putin and Ms. Maria Lvova-Belova on March 17, 2023, the first concrete step taken by the ICC with respect to the Situation in Ukraine, Prosecutor Karim A. A. Khan KC noted the following: “Since taking up my position as Prosecutor, I have emphasised that the law must provide shelter to the most vulnerable on the front lines, and that we also must put the experiences of children in conflict at the centre of our work. To do this, we have sought to bring our work closer to communities, draw on advanced technological tools and, crucially, build innovative partnerships in support of our investigative work.” To be “closer to the communities” affected by the relevant crimes, the Prosecutor entered into arrangements with the above-mentioned Joint Investigative Teams and developed a synergic cooperation with the authorities and civil society of Ukraine, a state that accepted the jurisdiction ad hoc under Article 12(3) of the Rome Statute and has not yet ratified the treaty.

In addition to the recent developments concerning the Situation in Ukraine at the ICC, the Court has furthered the objective of bringing the work of the ICC closer to affected communities through its recent actions, such as the conclusion of new memoranda of understanding renewing cooperation towards justice in the Democratic Republic of Congo, the establishment of an in-country office in Venezuela, and an action plan for renewed cooperation with Colombian national authorities in pursuit of accountability. Moreover, over the last twenty years, local and international NGOs and legal representatives of victims have repeatedly called for a greater presence of the ICC in the field through interactive outreach and public communications, including through the application of the Statute’s provisions on in situ proceedings.

Summary of the Benefits and Risks of Creating a Hybrid Chamber at the ICC

To summarize briefly the benefits and risks of creating a hybrid chamber at the ICC, as addressed in our original article, it is first noted that, on the risks side, there is the potential for compromised justice institutions through the use of national judges at the ICC, particularly in contexts involving a high degree of political instability. For instance, the rulings of national judges could be dismissed as lacking in impartiality or, even if impeccably well-reasoned, lacking the appearance of impartiality.

There is also the potential of a “due process critique” that a judge from the same state as a defendant might be biased in favor of, or against, that defendant, depending on the political climate following atrocity crimes. Also on the risks side, hybrid chambers could come with increased costs, or a rebalancing of resources away from the ICC’s core mandate. The Court would also need to adapt to new procedures for selecting judges, which could create difficulties at the initial stages. However, on the benefits side, hybrid chambers (and courts) may allow for building a more localized ownership of the justice process and fostering the development of international human rights norms within domestic legal systems.

There are a number of additional benefits a hybrid system would provide. The integration of national judges may provide a visible and more culturally appropriate justice process, which also adheres to international human rights standards. Furthermore, there is a perceived sense of transparency and greater resistance to political interference from the use of a combination of international and national judges. Indeed, integrating national judicial actors within the ICC’s decisionmaking process could enable a form of hybrid justice while still maintaining the ICC’s international legitimacy. Moreover, a hybrid chamber within the ICC could also motivate states parties to engage more readily with the Court, incentivize non-party states to join, and accomplish the principal goal of ensuring criminal accountability.

Having a national judge take part in proceedings could indicate a greater degree of respect for state sovereignty and an institutional effort to be more representative. Also, hybrid chambers could serve to promote knowledge transfer and strengthen the capacity of domestic judicial systems through the engagement of national judges in international criminal proceedings that adhere to international standards.

Additionally, the participation of national judges could also increase the use of the language of the incident state during trials, facilitating national media coverage and making the proceedings seem closer to home for the relevant population. Finally, a hybrid chamber could create a more specialized chamber. For example, in situations where the Court has jurisdiction on the basis of the location of the respective atrocity crimes, a judge of the territorial state appointed to the bench might be expected to have special expertise in the specific language of the state in which the situation arose, in addition to cultural skills and background knowledge of the relevant state. This could help to make the hybrid chamber more focused and efficient.

In order to advance these goals and minimize the hurdles or complications that may be associated with institutional innovation, it is necessary for the states parties to the Rome Statute to elaborate a set of amendments that would empower the Assembly itself and relevant Court organs to take the necessary action in forming hybrid chambers within the ICC, when their configuration would be suitable to bring the justice process closer to the victims and the communities affected by the perpetration of international crimes.

Proposed Amendments to the Rome Statute

The practical vehicle through which amendments to the Rome Statute may best be effected to allow for the establishment of hybrid chambers within the Court is Article 122, which provides that an amendment of an institutional nature may be proposed by any state party and must then receive unanimous support or, in the absence of consensus, a two-thirds majority vote in the Assembly of States Parties (ASP) for its adoption and immediate entry into force. The latter characteristic of Article 122 makes it much more efficient and effective than the Article 121 amendment procedures, which cause “fragmentation” or diversification of jurisdictional regimes between states that have ratified amendments and states that have not ratified them. Additionally, amendments that require the ratification by seven-eighths of the states parties before entering into force (for all states), such as the 2015 amendment through which the ASP unanimously deleted the transitional provision on war crimes of Article 124 from the Statute, are essentially impossible to achieve. This is due to the fact that political momentum for the amendments’ ratification is normally missing, and the technicalities of ratification processes pose an obstacle to collective and coordinated action by such a large number of states parties. Article 122 was conceived to allow adjustments in the internal (institutional) law of the ICC, but, as of today, it has never been applied or invoked by states parties, even if a Report of the Bureau on the Study Group of Governance, published October 15, 2013, encouraged states to submit proposals pursuant to this Article at paragraph 22.

It is further recalled that Article 39 of the Rome Statute leaves the Court free to establish new Pre-Trial and Trial chambers as it deems efficient. However, these chambers are composed only of judges from the existing Pre-Trial and Trial Divisions, respectively. Article 39 could therefore be amended to allow for the creation of hybrid trial chambers in addition to ordinary trial chambers, with two judges from the corresponding division and a third judge appointed on an ad hoc basis. The required amendments must specify that one or more hybrid chambers, in addition to ordinary trial and pre-trial chambers, are permissible and should set out the appointment mechanism for judges to hybrid chambers, in addition to the service, qualifications, nomination, and election requirements regarding ad hoc judges.

As also emphasized in our original article, we note in this respect that ad hoc judges would not fall under the definition of ICC judges. The Court would also need to adopt new procedures for selecting judges. The distinct articles of Part 4 of the Rome Statute would further require amendment in certain respects in order to detail how the provisions related to service of judges (Art. 35), qualifications and nomination/election (Art. 36, but exclusively in respect of para. 8 on criteria for selection, i.e., expertise and independence of ad hoc judges, and in respect of para. 9 to outline ad hoc judges’ term of office), the organizational functions of the Presidency of the Court (Art. 38), the configuration of the Trial Division (Art. 39, para. 1, second sentence) and the composition of the Trial Division (Art. 39, para. 2(b)(ii)), removal from office (Art. 46), disciplinary measures (Art. 47), and salaries, allowances and expenses (Art. 49) would apply to ad hoc judges (appointed to hybrid chambers). Other provisions, such as those on the independence of judges (Art. 40), excusal and disqualification of judges (Art. 41), solemn undertaking (Art. 45) and privileges and immunities (Art. 48) will need to be interpreted as applicable to ad hoc judges. Finally, ad hoc judges would also need to be exclusively bound to apply the law in accordance with Article 21 (Applicable Law) of the Rome Statute (which would impede their application of domestic law outside the extremely limited boundaries of Art. 21, para. 1(c)).

How Hybridity Can Foster Domestic Reconciliation: The ECCC Example

Beyond additional consideration of the need to avoid amendments to articles of the Rome Statute that do not fall under the accelerated amendments process provided for in Article 122 of the Rome Statute, it is important to also contextualize the hybridization project more broadly, in view of the overall goal of fostering domestic stabilization and reconciliation through accountability efforts.

Regarding the importance of bringing the work of the ICC closer to affected communities, we note that any such proposal to amend the Rome Statute to create a hybrid chamber should ideally be accompanied by a campaign or mechanism to enable increased resources aimed at fostering domestic outreach activities and embedding national judges in the judicial decisionmaking work and processes of the Court.

Taking the example of the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia, known as the ECCC or informally as the Khmer Rouge Tribunal, the importance of fostering domestic outreach activities is clear. The ECCC was established within the Cambodian legal system in 2006 to seek justice for the crimes committed by the Khmer Rouge regime. It has received international assistance through the United Nations Assistance to the Khmer Rouge Trials, known as UNAKRT.

The ECCC can only prosecute two categories of alleged perpetrators for alleged crimes committed between April 17, 1975, and January 6, 1979, the first being senior leaders of Democratic Kampuchea, and the second being those believed to be most responsible for grave violations of national and international law. There have been four cases at the ECCC, with the second and fourth cases severed into two and three sub-cases, respectively (Case 001: defendant Kaing Guek Eay, alias “Duch”; Case 002 (severed into Case 002/01 and Case 002/02): defendants Khieu Samphan, Noun Chea (deceased), Ieng Sary (deceased), and Ieng Thirith (deceased); Case 003: defendant Meas Muth; Case 004 (severed into Case 004/01, Case 004/02 and Case 004): defendants Yim Tith, Im Chaem, and Ao An).

To date, three individuals have been convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment by the ECCC (Kaing Guek Eav, alias “Duch” (Case 001); Nuon Chea and Khieu Samphan (Case 002)), two of whom have since passed away (Nuon Chea passed away on August 4, 2019, in the hospital at the age of ninety-three. Kaing Guek Eav was serving his sentence at Kandal Provincial Prison, Cambodia, until he passed away on September 2, 2020, in the hospital at the age of seventy-seven. The last surviving prisoner convicted by the ECCC, Khieu Samphan, has recently been transferred from the ECCC Detention Unit to Kandal Provincial Prison, to serve out his sentence, under the jurisdiction of the General Department of Prisons of the Ministry of Interior.

The ECCC has a majority of Cambodian judges in each chamber. In the Pre-Trial Chamber, there are three Cambodian judges and two international judges (with the President of the Chamber being Cambodian and there being a reserve Cambodian and a reserve international judge). In the Trial Chamber, there are three Cambodian judges and two international judges (with the President of the Chamber again being Cambodian). In the Supreme Court Chamber, there are four Cambodian judges and three international judges (with the President of the Chamber being Cambodian and there being a reserve Cambodian and a reserve international judge).

Beyond a mixed composition of judges in chambers, there are, for example, Co-Prosecutors, both international and national, Co-investigating Judges, both international and national, and mixed international and national personnel in all other areas of the court, including the Office of Administration, the Defence Support Section, Victims Support Section, and there is also one Cambodian and one international Civil Party Lead Co-Lawyer.

Many commentators in the international justice realm have noted that the ECCC has experienced high levels of acceptance and support in its communities. Compared to domestic courts, it has also arguably demonstrated greater transparency and resistance to political interference. It has achieved a high degree of public attendance and victim engagement in trial proceedings. Through its Public Affairs Section, for example, it has hosted a weekly radio program, and a broader outreach program, and generated a high level of domestic media coverage. The ECCC also made great advances in interpretation and transcription of its three working languages (namely, English, French, and Khmer). To give just one example of this, the trial judgment in Case 002/02 stands at 2,259 pages in length and was issued in English, French, and Khmer.

The survey results of a recent study undertaken this year by the court show that the tour program organized by the ECCC as part of its public outreach is relevant for imparting knowledge to younger generations. According to most respondents, the ECCC study tours provided additional knowledge of the trial of Khmer Rouge senior leaders and the history of the Khmer Rouge regime – including through presentations by relevant officials and visits to Toul Sleng Genocide Museum, the Cheong Ek Genocide Centre, and Win Win Memorial. These results came from a survey that was conducted online by the court from February 15 to April 6, 2023, open to individuals who had participated in the ECCC study tour program. From February 15 to April 6, 2023, there were 3,430 youth, students, and teachers who had participated in the study tours organized by the court. 1,527 people responded to the online survey.

This focus on public awareness and engagement by the court is significant. The mandate of the Public Affairs Section prompts us to reflect on broader questions related to the role of capacity-building in a post-conflict society and how hybrid justice can help to develop a sense of local ownership of the justice process, while also leaving impacts for future generations to come. At the ECCC, officials routinely visit remote provinces and speak to members of the public, including school children, about the work of the court, distributing information materials about the ECCC and taking questions from students and the public about the court proceedings.

This aspect of the work of the court may be powerfully described with the notion of “justice under a tree.” The proposal to create a hybrid chamber within the ICC is based to an extent on the idea that hybrid forms of justice can help to develop a sense of local ownership of the justice process, leaving impacts for generations to come. The idea of “justice under a tree” is one which can be used to draw an analogy to the notion that hybrid justice and hybrid courts are often viewed as providing a more visible and culturally appropriate justice process that adheres to international human rights standards.

The concept comes from traditional African societies: under the tree is where people would meet to resolve disputes. For instance, with respect to the Constitutional Court of South Africa, the logo of the court depicts people sheltering under a canopy of branches, a representation of the court’s protective role and of the theme of justice under a tree. This logo reveals the ethos and culture of the court as a source of protection for all, as well as the Constitution’s historical roots in South Africa in terms of the struggle for human rights, infused with the spirit of a new democracy. Indeed, the Constitutional Court was borne not from clichéd images of the scales of justice and Roman columns. Rather, the symbol chosen for the court’s logo was the tree – something that protects, just like the Constitution. However, the tree does not stand alone in the logo. It is sheltering people who have gathered under its branches.

Standing outside, under trees, in school playgrounds in rural settings, public outreach missions in Cambodia may be said to have brought a sense of “bringing the law home” to affected communities, thereby further ensuring truth-telling in terms of historical record and teaching future generations to be attuned to the early warning signs of genocide and atrocity crimes. This may be considered as an extended form of “justice under a tree,” ensuring that justice is both visible and community-based.

Therefore, the proposal to amend the Rome Statute of the ICC to create a hybrid chamber within the Court with a composition of national and international judges may be viewed as one way of bringing the law one step closer to the communities affected by the work of the Court.

In order to achieve this result, it would be essential for the Assembly of States Parties to the Rome Statute to fulfill its legislative responsibility and make use of the provisions of Article 122 of the Statute, empowering a qualified majority of two-thirds to reform and modernize the internal judicial infrastructure of the Court and, ultimately, increase its impact, performance, and effectiveness.

This reform must be accompanied by concurrent efforts to increase the public outreach efforts of the Court and the accessibility of the only permanent international criminal tribunal, the ICC, for victims, including survivors. Therefore, such a proposal should ideally be accompanied by a campaign or mechanism to enable increased resources aimed at fostering domestic outreach activities, alongside embedding national judges in the judicial decisionmaking work and processes of the Court. The overarching question which we should always remain focused on is: how do we best produce positive results for affected communities?

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[1] See generally Clarence Wilfred Jenks, The Proper Law of International Organisations (1962).

*David Donat Cattin is an Adjunct Associate Professor of International Law, Center for Global Affairs, NYU; Research Fellow, Center for International Law Research & Policy (www.cilrap.org/donat-cattin/); and Senior Fellow, Montreal Institute for Genocide and Human Rights Studies at Concordia University.

**Philippa Greer is the Head of the Legal Office of the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East, Gaza Strip. She previously served as a legal adviser at the United Nations in Afghanistan, Jerusalem, Cambodia and Tanzania and worked at the UN Secretariat in New York. The views expressed herein are those of the author alone and do not necessarily reflect the views of the United Nations. Philippa tweets @philippa_bear

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Content, Online Scholarship, Perspectives

Reconciling Automated Weapon Systems with Algorithmic Accountability: An International Proposal for AI Governance

By Philip Alexander*

I. Introduction

Earlier this year, Google announced a ‘Code Red’ at its California headquarters, instructing its employees to prioritize developing newer, more advanced Artificial Intelligence (AI) projects, with CEO Sundar Pichai describing AI as the next ‘electricity or fire.’ Notably, the spotlight on ChatGPT and its successor GPT4 has elevated the domain of AI as a revolutionary piece of technology. The benefits arising from this global movement in medicine, language and engineering are unquestionably significant. However, on the other end of its vast spectrum lies an array of globally disruptive Artificial Intelligence (GDAI), that could have far-reaching implications on life, liberty and humanity. This note examines the rise and effects of such AI and devises an international governance framework that balances automated technology with International Humanitarian Law (IHL) and Algorithmic Accountability. Specifically, I focus on Autonomous Weapon Systems (AWS) as an example of GDAI, where the nexus between automated technology and human rights is clearly established.

The development of international law and the proliferation of military technology are directly proportional. In 1648, the Treaty of Westphalia was drafted to restrict gunpowder weaponry after the Thirty Years’ War. In 1918, World War I and the rise of military trench warfare resulted in the formation of the Permanent Court of International Justice. Finally, nuclear weaponry used in World War II formed the rational basis behind the conception of the United Nations. In 2023, we exist in a stage of weaponry described as the ‘Third Wave of Warfare,’ where automated AI-enabled systems define the contours of military warfare. For example, Iran announced its development of a series of automated miniature tanks that hold military grade weaponry. In another instance, Turkish defense technology company STM engineered a fully autonomous combat drone, the Kargu-2, capable of precision-guided munition. These drones were first used in the Libyan internecine conflict of 2020 and now in the Russian-Ukraine armed conflict.

The emerging trend of automated weaponry raises questions on the urgency of developing regulatory mechanisms that govern autonomy. Should the international community push for the formation of a framework composed of soft and hard laws that explicitly define the limits of automated engineering? As Peter Singer, an expert on drone engineering, puts it, drones’ ‘intelligence and autonomy [are] growing [and] the law’s not ready for this.’ In the following section, I examine the legality of AWS and propose a tiered governance framework that reconciles such weaponry with IHL.

II. The Unpredictability of Algorithms

International Humanitarian Law, a set of rules that seeks to limit the effects of armed conflict, contains two principles relevant to AWS’s validity: The Principle of Precaution and the Principle of Distinction. These principles guide the conduct of belligerents during armed conflict and have become customary international law through state practice.

The principle of precaution, embodied in Article 57(1) of Additional Protocol I of the Geneva Convention, states that ‘[i]n the conduct of military operations, constant care shall be taken to spare the civilian population, civilians and civilian objects.’ The principle of precaution emphasizes the continuous and diligent effort required to safeguard civilian lives during military operations. It stresses the importance of taking necessary measures to avoid or minimize unintended harm to non-combatants, such as confirming targets as legitimate military objectives, allowing for the cancellation or suspension of attacks if civilians are at risk, and providing warnings when feasible to protect the civilian population.

The Trial Chamber of the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) determined in Prosecutor v. Kupreškić that Article 57 of the 1977 Additional Protocol I had attained the status of customary international law. This conclusion was reached based on two factors: Article 57 expanded upon and elaborated on existing customary norms. Secondly, it was observed that no State, including those that had not ratified the Protocol, appeared to contest the validity of this provision. This principle is also a fundamental axiom in several legal documents, manuals on military affairs and decisions by international and domestic judicial and quasi-judicial bodies, indicating its elevation as state practice.

The principle of distinction states that parties to a military armed conflict must distinguish between civilians and combatants, where ‘the only legitimate object which States should endeavor to accomplish during war is to weaken the military forces of the enemy.’ As described by the ICJ in the Nuclear Advisory Opinion as an ‘intransgressible [principle] of international customary law,’ it is codified in Articles 48 and 52(2) of Additional Protocol I and forms one of the central tenets of IHL.

The principal concern with AWS and other GDAI that could impede human rights is the unpredictability associated with the algorithms used to operate such technology. ‘Automatic’ machine systems are programmed to respond to rules, where ‘if X, then Y’ is followed. These systems do not necessarily pose concerns regarding their predictability. However, AWS is engineered using machine learning, where the software constantly responds to external factors and builds upon its existing knowledge repository, much like how ChatGPT operates. If the operation of this type of software malfunctions at any point during armed conflict, causing civilian harm, it violates customary humanitarian and international law.

Numerous instances of algorithmic bias and discrimination exist, where AI misperceives information. However, no party to the armed conflict could be held liable for this type of violation because of the absence of intent and knowledge required to establish a crime under international criminal law. In the following sections, I first discuss examples of algorithmic bias, providing precedent on the unpredictability of machine learning algorithms. I then devise a framework for AI governance that attempts to bridge some of the gaps in the status quo.

Algorithmic Bias

Algorithms in the context of machine learning are computational methods that utilize mathematical models to discover and comprehend underlying patterns present in data. These algorithms can recognize patterns, classify information, and make predictions based on their learning from existing data, known as the training set. There is an excessive reliance on the objectivity of such algorithms employed in artificial intelligence. This phenomenon is known as ‘mathwashing,’ where the output created by AI is treated as an absolute value, immune to inaccuracy. This perception stems from the fact that mathematics forms the fundamental basis for the existence of AI and is objective by its nature. However, this approach needs to be revised because algorithmic bias has been well-documented in several cases in the public domain.

A study conducted in 2019 discovered that health insurance service provider Optum’s algorithm exhibited racial bias by favoring healthier white patients for insurance coverage and medication, while neglecting sicker Black patients. The algorithm initially suggested providing additional care to only 17.7% of Black patients. However, if this bias were removed, the percentage of Black patients recommended for extra care would rise to 46.5%.

In another study conducted by MIT, it was discovered that the margin of error for three different facial recognition software was 0.8% for white men but 35% for women of color. Algorithmic bias has also been documented in criminal prosecution trials. Correctional Offender Management Profiling for Alternative Sanctions, or COMPAS for short, is a predictive algorithm that assesses recidivism risk, or the likelihood of someone reoffending in the future. This software has been adopted in states such as California, Florida, New York and Wisconsin. However, a report found that Black offenders were nearly twice as likely to be classified with a potential risk of reoffending at 48%, compared with white offenders at 28%. In 2014, Brisha Borden, a Black woman, was arrested for burglary and petty theft. The COMPAS software labeled her as ‘high risk’ for future violent crimes. On the other hand, Vernon Prater, a White male with a history of multiple criminal charges, was arrested for a similar crime but was classified as ‘low risk’ for reoffending. Today, Borden has been released from prison without any pending criminal charges, while Prater has returned to prison and is currently serving an eight-year sentence.

These are just some examples of how unreliable artificial intelligence and machine learning can be. Incorporating unpredictable algorithms in military weaponry can have disastrous effects on human life. For this reason, AWS must be regulated so that states with powerful militaries do not take indiscriminate decisions without weighing their potential consequences. In the following section, I propose a two-tiered framework for protecting civilian life that balances the necessity of automated decision-making during armed conflict with principles of algorithmic accountability and IHL.

III. Proposal for the International Governance on AWS

There is an increasing sense of urgency in the algorithmic regulation debate. Recently, the Council of Europe announced that it is in the process of drafting the ‘Convention on Artificial Intelligence, Human Rights, Democracy and the Rule of Law.’ Ursula von der Leyen, President of the European Commission, submitted a proposal for the Artificial Intelligence Act with the intention of ‘addressing the opacity, complexity, bias, a certain degree of unpredictability and partially autonomous behavior of certain AI systems, to ensure their compatibility with fundamental rights and to facilitate the enforcement of legal rules.’ The Biden Administration is also working on AI governance, releasing a blueprint for the AI Bill of Rights with ‘principles that should guide the design, use, and deployment of automated systems to protect the American public in the age of artificial intelligence.’ The impetus behind artificial intelligence provides the right opportunity to introduce domestic and international laws further, regulating specific kinds of AI such as AWS. In the following section, I examine an international governance framework that states can adopt as a possible structure for the regulation of AWS.

The proposal for this framework consists of two tiers. Tier I suggestions will permit the development and use of AWS during armed conflict, with accompanying restrictions that protect civilian life. These restrictions will expressly outline the limits of AWS in congruence with the rules of IHL. Tier II limitations will include stricter and enforceable restraints on AWS that states may enact at their discretion, either unilaterally, bilaterally with another state, or multilaterally with several states. A tiered code will precisely delineate to what extent AWS is permitted in compliance with IHL, while establishing stricter mechanisms on the attribution of liability.

Tier I

Firstly, states may adopt a declaration that expressly permits the development of machine learning in military weaponry in a way that respects civilian life. Constituting recommendations, guidelines and non-binding resolutions, this declaration would be a soft law instrument that lays down normative standards on what is and is not to be expected from member states concerning AWS. This instrument will also clarify the breach of the rules necessary to trigger state responsibility, including the extent, scope and nature of IHL, primarily codified in the four Geneva Conventions and two Additional Protocols.

Tier II

Tier II comprises binding and enforceable restrictions based on algorithmic accountability as opposed to general rules of IHL, that states must strictly adhere to while engineering AWS algorithms. Algorithmic accountability is the process where developers of algorithms are made responsible for situations where the algorithm renders a decision that has a disparate negative impact on an individual or a group of individuals. Stronger standards of accountability would significantly improve transparency in AI development, allowing members of the public to better understand what goes into building algorithms used for AWS.

A narrower approach, observed in such Tier II restrictions, would make it significantly easier to trace and attribute liability in accidental or intentionally unlawful conduct. These principles must be enforced alongside sanctions for violations and would jointly operate with the rules of IHL, creating a robust regulatory framework for AWS.

States must be obligated to conduct periodic Algorithmic Impact Assessments (AIA) at different stages of AWS’s life cycle. This achieves two goals.

Firstly, it allows the manufacturers of automated systems to think rationally and methodically about the potential implications of such technology before its implementation. This is especially crucial in technology that could violate individual rights and would ensure a greater likelihood that the final product reflects the principles and values determined in the initial impact assessment.

Secondly, it ensures the documentation of all decisions made in the development of AWS at different points of its life cycle, improving transparency and accountability to the public.      An example of algorithmic impact assessments can be seen in the Algorithmic Accountability Act introduced by Senator Ron Wyden before Congress in 2022. The Bill seeks ‘[t]o direct the Federal Trade Commission to require impact assessments of automated decision systems and augmented critical decision processes, and for other purposes.’ In another example, Article 35 of the GDPR imposes Data Protection Impact Assessments ‘[w]here a type of processing  […] using new technologies […] is likely to result in a high risk to the rights and freedoms of natural persons.’

Another measure that could be enforced is forming a bilateral or multilateral consultative commission that conducts regular inspections on a state’s AWS technology, ensuring that it complies with treaty restrictions. This step has been implemented in treaties that limit the non-proliferation of nuclear weaponry. For example, the New START Treaty is a nuclear arms reduction agreement between the United States and Russia that permits 18 on-site inspections yearly. An oversight body for AWS algorithms will ensure the compliance of AWS technology with the Tier II rules and obligations outlined in any treaty or agreement formed between states on AI regulation.

IV. Conclusion

The Tier I and II recommendations provide a viable solution to AI governance, balancing its utility while creating a robust regulatory framework that restricts the misuse of its autonomy. The proposed governance framework serves as a structure for future policy decisions regarding AWS and other GDAI. To this effect, the international community must deliberate upon these developments with the intention of framing broader domestic and international policy on AI and its intersection with human rights.

*Philip Alexander is a law student at the West Bengal National University of Juridical Sciences, India.

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Content, Online Features, Online Scholarship, The Impact of International Law on Refugees and Migration

Finding Hope for the Hopeless: Detention, Statelessness and International Criminal Law

Kushagr Bakshi*

In August 2019, as directed by the Supreme Court,[1] the Government of India published its National Register of Citizens for the state of Assam.[2] In one fell swoop, around 1.9 million people, many of whom had generational roots in Assam were declared foreign.[3] Given the migration arising from the Bangladesh Liberation War of 1971 and notoriously porous borders between India and Bangladesh,[4] they were presumed to be of Bangladeshi origin. However, Bangladesh refused to acknowledge them as citizens, thereby ensuring that, these people, declared ‘foreign’, were also made stateless.[5]

These individuals were then given a one-hundred-and-twenty-day period to file challenges or appeals to this register at tribunals set up specially for this purpose, the Foreigner Tribunals.[6] In the meantime, the central government passed the Citizenship Amendment Act, 2019,[7] declaring all individuals of specific religious identities who migrated into India from specific neighboring countries prior to 2014 to be residents of India, irrespective of their immigration status and simplifying their route to citizenship.[8] Therefore, all individuals who had been excluded from the register but belonged to any of these religions were exempt from pleading their cases and made citizens. Perhaps unsurprisingly, a substantial chunk of the people not included, and therefore still ‘stateless’, are Muslims. Foreseeing (causing) the precarious situation of the ‘foreigners’ who lost the appeal at the Foreigners Tribunals, the state considered its options, namely deportation, detention or the presence of foreign inhabitants. With deportation being unviable (for where would you deport stateless people to?) and since these laws stigmatize the continued presence of ‘foreign inhabitants’,[9] the state started construction on separate detention centers. Now while India may have renamed these centers for delicate sensibilities,[10] the central government has admitted that as of 2020, there were six operational centers in Assam with over three thousand individuals imprisoned, many having been imprisoned for more than three years.[11]

Article 15 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights prohibits the arbitrary denial of nationality.[12] Further, The Refugee Convention of 1951 prevents member states from detaining, expelling or returning immigrants even if they have entered sans permission.[13] However, India is not a party to the Convention and there are limited enforcement actions under the Declaration.[14] Therefore, this paper proposes a novel approach, that is to investigate whether the imprisonment of people, declared foreign, can be prosecuted under international criminal law as a crime against humanity. We begin by examining the development of the concept of crimes against humanity in international criminal law. Then we investigate the situation of these imprisoned people to determine whether the actions of the Indian government qualify as a crime against humanity. Finally, we conclude by considering the International Criminal Court as a possible venue of recourse, the jurisdictional challenges involved, and the expressive value that a shift to an international criminal law lens might serve.

I. From War to Peace: The Development of Crimes Against Humanity

The classical Westphalian approach to international criminal law favours a conception of criminal justice as a crucial building block of the collective security regime, which is to say that the purpose of international criminal law is the prevention and prosecution of war crimes.[15] Consider for instance that the first reference to crimes against humanity,[16] can be found in a declaration issued by France to Turkey during World War I.[17] The First World War also led to attempts to set up a tribunal to prosecute ‘crimes against humanity’, which was halted by a Memorandum of Reservations submitted by the United State of America.[18] It was the horrors of the Holocaust during the Second World War which led to the codification of standards and definitions of crimes against humanity.[19] The London Charter of the International Military Tribunal first defined crimes against humanity,[20] and Allied laws established in Germany after occupation included imprisonment within the definition of crimes against humanity.[21] Given the obvious context of concentration camps, the Allies never found it necessary to include any detailed definition of imprisonment. Further development of the jurisprudence regarding imprisonment as a crime against humanity has mostly come from ad hoc international tribunals set up to adjudicate conflict situations.

The statutes for the ad hoc international criminal tribunals set up to adjudicate the atrocities in Yugoslavia and Rwanda recognized imprisonment as a crime against humanity.[22] The statute for the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda offered a qualified definition, where imprisonment would only constitute a crime against humanity when committed against a civilian population on the grounds of a shared group identity such as religion, nationality, ethnicity et al. The judgement of the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia in the Kordic and Cerkez case helped further illuminate the key constitutive elements of the definition.[23] Finding the defendants guilty, the Trial Chamber held that Bosnian Muslims had been systematically subjected to arbitrary imprisonment without justification. In addition to emphasizing the group identity of the victims, the Chamber’s decision highlights the lack of due process leading to the imprisonment as being a constitutive element in defining imprisonment as a crime against humanity.

This test for defining imprisonment was further elaborated upon by the Cambodian Tribunal. Set up as a hybrid tribunal under an international agreement, having a broad legal basis including Cambodian penal law, international humanitarian law and custom as well as the conventions entered into by Cambodia,[24] the trial chamber adopted a principled test for deciding when imprisonment becomes a crime against humanity.[25] The three prongs of the test enumerated by the court were: (i) a legal basis to justify the imprisonment which must be consistent with international law; (ii) the legal basis must continue to exist for the entire duration of imprisonment; and (iii) knowledge or intent of the perpetrator. Here, the court distanced itself away from the requirement of a group identity for those who were imprisoned. Further, recognizing how domestic legal systems often provide a formal guarantee of due process, the court added a substantive due process norm, requiring the domestic process of law to be compliant with international standards. Finally, stressing the gravity of crimes against humanity, the court upheld a mens rea standard, evidenced by intent of systematic or widespread practices, as required by customary international law.[26]

As of late, the focus of contemporary international criminal law has shifted from war crimes to ‘atrocity crimes’.[27] Philosophically considered, this evolution is linked to the changing notion of international peace and security as justice, which is to say that the modern justice-oriented peace and security ethos has resulted in a shift from the interstate dimension of crimes to look at individual human rights and harm.[28] The shift from humanitarian law towards the protection of human rights outside of interstate conflict,[29] does not however mean that the statutes and principles adopted previously have to be viewed in a confined manner or abandoned.[30] In fact, international bodies and scholars now look at codified war statutes and the human rights regime, for an amalgamated principled standard to apply to current situations. The key declarations and covenants of the human rights regime provide these broader principled notions, specifically regarding the liberty of people and they have been interpreted and applied by various international bodies in a manner consistent with the principles developed in the above cases.[31] The Human Rights Council adopted a comment which read the liberty guarantee of Article 9 of the 1966 International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, as applicable to all deprivations of liberty, including cases of immigration control, emphasizing a notion of court protected substantive due process as a fundamental component of that right.[32] The U.N. General Assembly, in resolutions on religious tolerance[33] and protection of human rights and fundamental freedoms,[34] voiced opposition to detention outside the ambit of the law and urged States to respect international legal standards, including human rights and humanitarian law. Finally, the Rome Statute also recognizes imprisonment and other forms of severe deprivation of physical liberty as a crime against humanity.[35] The elements of crimes addendum, adopted at Kampala, lists criteria which draws substantially from the human rights framework.[36] Thus, international criminal law, removed from the specter of armed conflict, has developed an understanding of imprisonment as a crime against humanity which is not tied to group identity or particular standard of atrocity. The legal standard that can be distilled from a composite understanding of the decisions and principles above is: (i) Whether the imprisonment is in accordance with due process of law, where any such domestic law must comply with the standards of international human rights law (including affording the opportunity of adequate legal recourse to the prisoner); and (ii) the intent on the part of perpetrator, demonstrable by showing that the acts follow a systematic practice.

II. Between Scylla and Charybdis: Detention and Statelessness in India

Detailing the history of migration into Assam and understanding the various motivations undergirding the actions of those who oppose the settlement of migrants is well beyond the scope of this article.[37] Suffice it to say that the sociological notion of closure[38] vis-à-vis retaining a particular ethnic and religious composition of the polity coupled with the notion of economic protectionism[39] are insidious factors driving the opposition to migrants. But it is crucial to understand the legal framework through which this opposition is expressed, that is the National Register of Citizens and the Foreigner Tribunals.

During independence and partition in 1947, Assam saw a huge surge of migrants from Bangladesh (then East Pakistan) into India which was religiously driven. This migration led to the establishment of the National Register of Citizens in 1951, specifically to map the migration into the state of Assam.[40] The regularization of these immigrants was governed by the Foreigners Act, 1946 and special administrative tribunals (Foreigners Tribunals) were created under this Act to aid the process of regularization.[41] The aim was for the register and the tribunals to regularize the immigrants to enable them to participate in the transformative project of the Indian Constitution. However, in 1971 with the war in Bangladesh, a second wave of immigration began. Unlike 1947, there was fierce opposition to these immigrants with the local political parties of Assam organizing protests and demonstrations which resulted in waves of violence and what is now called the Nellie massacre.[42] The crucial difference, religion. While the immigrants in 1947 had mostly been Hindu’s escaping into India to avoid the sectarian violence of partition, the immigrants of 1971 were Muslim, albeit they too were escaping into India for fear of violence engulfing Bangladesh.[43] The protests and violence finally stopped with the Assam Accords and the setting up of new tribunals, which unlike the Foreigner Tribunals were intended to identify illegal immigrants for the purpose of deportation.[44] However, in 2005, the Supreme Court of India held the act setting up these new tribunals to be unconstitutional thereby shifting the burden back to the Foreigner Tribunals.[45] This was followed by the process described initially, namely that of updating the Register, appeals at the Foreigner Tribunals, followed by imprisoning those excluded.[46]

The process of updating the Register itself was filled with irregularities which eventually led to the exclusion of individuals who had enjoyed the full privileges and immunities of citizenship such as, serving in the armed forces and even being elected to the state legislative assembly.[47] However, such irregularities would be under the ambit of refugee law as this process leads to statelessness and refugee status. Instead, in this article I intend to focus on the functioning of foreigner tribunals and the imprisonment that follows. As established in the previous section, for any imprisonment to qualify as a crime against humanity, two crucial elements ought to be fulfilled, namely, that the imprisonment be without due process of law and that the perpetrator show intent through systematic practice.

A. The Due Process of Law

The due process standard has evolved considerably in international law. The ICCPR and UDHR lay down the standard for due process which includes, a fair public hearing and an independent and impartial tribunal which determines the rights and obligations of the accused and any criminal charges against the accused.[48] Additional international instruments,[49] resolutions[50] and decisions of international tribunals have led to an interpretation of the due process requirements which emphasize time given for defence,[51] fairness to both parties[52] and the right to appeal.[53] The customarily accepted definition of the due process of law, consists of two components: (a) the right to a fair trial which includes a determination of the quality of administration of justice based on the principles of independence, impartiality and competence; a determination of the quality of protection of rights of the parties based on the principles of a fair hearing, the equality of arms,[54] assumption of innocence and public hearings, and finally, the efficiency of administration based on completion of hearings within reasonable time; and (b) the right to an effective remedy, including the effectiveness of administration of justice, a qualitative determination of the standard of the remedy which includes appeals processes and scope of appeals and finally, the supervision afforded to ensure no miscarriage of justice. This international due process requirement has to be read in conjunction with the domestic standard. Indian constitutional jurisprudence lays down a three-pronged approach for evaluating the due process of law in cases of detention, including a test of reasonableness, substantive notions of fairness in the procedure and a balancing exercise.[55]

In this respect, the foreigner tribunals display a fundamental flaw, namely shifting the burden of proving innocence. Substantive notions of due process and a fair trial require that individuals be presumed innocent until proven guilty.[56] While the Foreigners Tribunals are not adjudicating crimes per se, the method of punishment, that is imprisonment, is usually a criminal consequence. Therefore, the process of imprisonment and shifting the burden upon individuals to prove their citizenship (innocence) is a violation of this fundamental tenet.[57] The second major due process violation in Foreigners Tribunals arises from the method of appointment of the judges. The Central Government is given executive fiat when it comes to appointment of the judges.[58] While government notifications prescribe certain qualifications for the prospective judges, the final appointment orders show that only two of the appointees hold the prescribed qualifications.[59] Additionally, in 2017, upon an evaluation of the tenure of the appointed individuals, the government declined to renew the contracts of nineteen appointees. An evaluation of the renewals shows that judges who, on an average declared individuals to be foreigners in less than ten percent of their disposed cases were deemed to perform in an unsatisfactory manner, and thus terminated.[60]  Domestic and international legal jurisprudence on due process has highlighted the importance of an independent judiciary.[61] The role of the executive then, in the composition of these quasi-judicial tribunals and the chilling effect of non-renewal of contracts meant as an inducement towards particular types of verdicts ensures that the trials are not impartial and therefore not following the due process standard.

Further, the tribunals are allowed discretion to determine the procedural rules which govern their functioning.[62] The courts have also held that these tribunals, being quasi-judicial in nature are not even required to apply the standards prescribed for other civil courts in India.[63] Additionally, the common law principle of res judicata, intended to protect an individual from double jeopardy is not applicable to decisions made by the Foreigner Tribunals.[64] Finally, due to the discretion afforded, different tribunals have adopted different procedural codes which deny litigants any chance of equality or predictability in their trials. The combined effect of these procedural lapses is immense. As per the central government itself, the tribunals have issued ex parte orders in around sixty-four thousand cases, rendering people stateless without giving them a chance to be heard.[65] The differing evidentiary standards adopted have also had a particularly discriminatory gendered impact with many women and children not being able to produce the evidence required to prove citizenship.[66]

Finally, an important element of the due process standard is the right to appeal. In context of citizenship proceedings, states are obligated to ensure that adequate substantive and procedural safeguards guaranteeing judicial review exist.[67] Unlike the standard court system in India, Foreigner Tribunals exercise original jurisdiction in matters of nationality due to which the only appeal process available is to High Courts or the Supreme Court.[68] However, the appellate courts have themselves severely limited their scope of review. The courts have deemed fact finding errors beyond the scope of their jurisdiction, limiting review only to cases of jurisdictional error or facial violations of justice.[69] Further, the courts have also given the executive wide fiat by upholding their power to summarily inquire into the citizenship of any person, without following a due process standard in the investigation.[70] On two fronts then, the limited forums of appeal and the limited standards of review, the courts in India have failed to uphold a substantive right of appeal or remedy.[71]

B. Systematic Intent of State

Recently, scholars have noticed the global rise of detention as a method of preventing immigration.[72] For some time now, Australia has been transferring ‘illegal’ immigrants to offshore detention centres in the Nauru and the Manus islands and detaining them there in inhuman conditions. Taking note of the rising incidents, Andrew Wilkie, an independent member of the Australian Parliament, wrote to the Office of the Prosecutor of the International Criminal Court alleging that by imprisoning these individuals the Australian Government had been committing a ‘crime against humanity’.[73] In their response, the Office of the Prosecutor found substantial evidence to indicate that the nature of the imprisonment satisfied the contextual requirements of the definition of crimes against humanity in the Rome Statute. However, the office could not establish concerted state action or evidence of systematic intent and hence declined to prosecute.[74] The key distinction the office noted was that while the policy of imprisonment was aimed at immigration detention, the elements of cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment were not a specific aim of this policy.

This standard that the office imposed is well outside the confines of international law. For decades, comparative and international jurisprudence has found that if the effects of a policy are discriminatory and inhuman, the state is responsible irrespective of whether that was a direct intent or not.[75] But even if we are to hold to the Prosecutor’s standard, the detention camps in Assam fit the bill. Essentially there are two elements which evidence the systematic intent. First, the denial of citizenship, combined with the rhetoric of ‘us’ versus ‘them’ is utilized to dehumanize the ‘foreigners’ and then legal norms and detention practices are utilized to impose indefinite imprisonment upon the ‘foreigners’. The specific construction and legal framework regulating these camps displays the systematic intent of the government to indefinitely detain people. Consider also the conditions of the camps which show the cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment that the ‘foreigners’ are subjected to. Detainees are neither provided with beds nor pillows. Medical facilities available are inadequate and the food is barely edible. Only family members are allowed to visit and the detainees are not allowed to leave, even in case of a death in the family.[76] All of this has led to various reports of detainees suffering from mental health issues,[77] physical sicknesses[78] and very often death.[79] It is therefore evident that the cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment meted out to the ‘foreigners’ is in fact what the state intends and has ensured such treatment through systematic design.[80]

III. Coda: Jurisdiction and the International Criminal Court

While I have argued above that the standards of international criminal jurisprudence have evolved to include imprisonment as a crime against humanity, I suspect opposition to this notion derives from the rhetoric surrounding crimes against humanity as radically evil acts.[81] Instead, borrowing from Hannah Arendt, I believe that acts of banal evil do lead to the infliction of terrible violence.[82] Therefore I have made a concerted effort to not highlight stories of pain and suffering in the narrative above, as it is important to realise how seemingly harmless laws and bureaucratic actions can lead to horrific situations. From the analysis above, it should be evident that the functioning of Foreigner Tribunals and the subsequent imprisonment of ‘foreigners’ is a crime against humanity.[83] Further, given that the situation does not entail the prevention of entry but rather active state acts intended to expel settled families and peoples, it’s important to evaluate what recourse, if any, the International Criminal Court can provide.

India is not a State Party to the Rome Statute and is unlikely to accept jurisdiction of the court for this matter.[84] While Bangladesh is a State Party to the Statute, the individuals who are incarcerated are ‘stateless’ under international law and if Bangladesh were to claim them to be Bangladeshi nationals for the purposes of filing a referral or granting the Court jurisdiction, they would be obligated under international refugee law to accept the individuals who would undoubtedly be deported by the Indian state. Further, any Bangladeshi referral would only grant the court jurisdiction if the crimes were committed by Bangladeshi nationals, which is not the case. Hence, it is unlikely that a Bangladeshi referral can serve as a route to conferring the Court jurisdiction. Therefore, the only way in which the Court can exercise jurisdiction over the matter is a Security Council referral.[85]

And this is not unheard of. The Security Council has previously referred situations to the Court, most notably the situation in Sudan which led to the investigation against Omar al-Bashir of Sudan.[86] Despite the political controversy surrounding the case, legally, scholars have argued that the binding nature of Security Council resolutions could also translate into obligations upon states to co-operate with investigations of the Prosecutor.[87] Theoretically then, it is possible that a resolution by the Security Council could trigger the Court’s jurisdiction over this situation. There has been sufficient criticism over the extent of the Security Council’s powers and the situation in Sudan, and it is not my intent to rehash that here.[88]  Instead, I wish to focus on the political nature of Security Council Referrals. Crucially, immigration detention is not a method solely employed by India. In fact, the situation has become a prevalent response to immigration, employed by the United States and various European countries.[89] Given that the language and politics of mass incarceration[90] are being increasingly deployed against immigrants by many nations (including permanent members of the Security Council), it is unlikely that such nations would encourage a Security Council resolution as a test case against detention centres in India, being aware of the hypocrisy and potential of such a referral being used against them in the future.[91]

What then is the purpose of this paper in classifying this detention as a crime against humanity? It is the moral expressivism that such a classification brings to the fore. The role of international criminal norms is not mere punishment but an attempt by the global community to disavow particular forms of conduct thereby symbolically indicating their refusal to acquiesce to crimes which shock our shared norms of morality.[92] And this norm expression also engenders accountability through the various relationships and interactions in the international criminal process. Through thematic investigations, prosecutions and legal practice, international criminal legal agents can use rhetorical techniques, performance and representation to enamour new audiences and reformulate relationships between the legal practice and society, thereby also reformulating the premise of underlying bodies of law.[93] Essentially, norm expression can sometimes lead to norm entrepreneurship.

Previously I argued that these norms must look beyond ‘atrocities’ to recognize the banal nature of evil. Hence, it’s important to understand how these facially harmless laws have led to terrible conditions in these detention camps. Generally, Indian prisons are rife with evidence of widespread torture, custodial rape, overcrowding and massively underfunded health and medical care.[94] Harsh Mander, the special monitor for the National Human Rights Commission, found that the detention camps in Assam were filled with grave and extensive human distress and suffering.[95] Since these detention centres are created as sub-parts of normal jails, the incarcerated ‘foreigners’ are treated differently (and worse) that the ‘civilian prisoners’. Given that there are no guidelines or laws which regulate the rights of the incarcerated, they are subject to arbitrary conditions decided by the wardens and authorities in charge of each centre. Most are not allowed work, denied any recreational activities or visits from family or parole. Additionally, children above the age of six are separated from their families.[96] It is precisely because of the lack legal protections highlighted previously, that their situation can now be characterized as cruel and inhuman.

In the face of this cruelty, moral expressivism can help kindle alternative means of recourse. The value of this expressivism is that it focuses attention on the evaluation of state action vis-à-vis shared international human rights norms. Consider that growing human rights violations and the moral outrage surrounding them led to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees concluding that detention did not deter irregular migration, or discourage persons from seeking asylum.[97] Further, the growing focus and outrage regarding such situations has led to a shift in the underlying notions of immigration with growing recognition of the wrong of imposing criminal liability upon individuals moving ‘irregularly’.[98] Therefore, the expressive impact of this classification can lead to international advocacy and resolutions, which condemn immigration detention in a general sense and the Indian situation specifically. Further, such expressivism should lead to national and international efforts aimed at encouraging immediate solutions such as bail bonds, community release and better reporting conditions amongst others. For, if the Modi government can undo six decades in six years,[99] surely, we can put some of it back.

[*] S.J.D Student, University of Michigan Law School. I’m grateful to Amb. (retd) Susan D. Page, Prof. Steven Ratner, Bojan Perovic, Jayee Malwankar as well as the participants in the seminar on African Countries and the International Criminal Court conducted at the University of Michigan Law School in 2022 for their feedback. All errors are, of course, my own.

[1] Assam Public Works v. Union of India, (2018) 9 SCC 231.

[2] NRC Final List, IndiaToday (Aug. 31, 2019) https://www.indiatoday.in/india/story/nrc-final-list-how-and-where-to-check-your-name-on-assam-national-register-of-citizens-1593695-2019-08-31.

[3] Salah Punathil, Precarious Citizenship: Detection, Detention and Deportability in India, 26 Citizenship Studies 55 (2022).

[4] See generally, Gary Bass, The Blood Telegram (2013).

[5] Nayanima Basu, Bangladesh wants ‘written’ assurance from India that it won’t send immigrants after CAA, ThePrint (Dec. 30, 2019 5:10PM) https://theprint.in/diplomacy/bangladesh-wants-written-assurance-from-india-that-it-wont-send-immigrants-after-caa/342579/.

[6] Talha Abdul Rahman, Identifying the Outsider: An Assessment of Foreigner Tribunals in the Indian State of Assam, 2 Statelessness and Citizenship Rev. (2020).

[7] Citizenship (Amendment) Act, 2019.

[8] Under the act, Buddhists, Christians, Hindus, Jains, Parsis, and Sikhs who have migrated from Afghanistan, Bangladesh, or Pakistan to India prior to 2014 are no longer considered illegal immigrants and can more readily achieve citizenship. Left out of the six religions granted special privileges are Jews and Muslims, thereby making official a discriminatory policy against Islam and Judaism in India. See, Anupama Roy, The Citizenship (Amendment) Bill and the Aporia of Citizenship, 54 Econ. Pol. Weekly 49 (2019).

[9] There’s an interesting anthropological and historical comparison to be made. Consider how the United States has used various laws over the course of history to designate ‘undesirables’ as foreign, both at local and federal levels. As such the aim of the Indian Government here is not a depoliticized move to restrict illegal immigration (as depoliticized as that can ever be), but rather changes designed specifically to exclude Muslims from the polity and more importantly the electorate. See, Kunal Parker, Making Foreigners: Immigration and Citizenship Law in America, 1600-200 (2015); Anupama Roy, Citizenship in India (2017).

[10] It’s reported that these centers are now called transit camps, in an attempt to humanize the camps. Assam’s Detention Centre’s for ‘Foreigners’ to now be called Transit Camps, Scroll (Aug. 19, 2021). https://scroll.in/latest/1003251/assams-detention-centres-for-foreigners-to-now-be-called-transit-camps.

[11] The government has admitted that there is no centrally maintained database and hence exact numbers are impossible to come by. See, Six detention centres in Assam with capacity of 3,331 persons: Home Ministry tells Lok Sabha, TheIndianExpress (March 17, 2020 6:23PM).

[12] U.N. General Assembly, Universal Declaration of Human Rights, A/RES/217(III) (Dec. 10, 1948).

[13] U.N. General Assembly, Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees, 189 U.N.T.S. 150 (entered into force April 22, 1954).

[14] Dipankar De Sarkar, Why India Won’t Sign Refugee Treaty, Mint (Sept. 11, 2012 01:12AM) https://www.livemint.com/Opinion/bePZQScFIq1wEWv9Tqt4QO/Why-India-wont-sign-Refugee-Treaty.html; Hurst Hannum, The Status of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights in National and International Law, 25 Ga. J. Int’l & Comp. L 287 (1996).

[15] Consider how Kelsen distinguished between international and internal peace and reminded his readers that the former is the ‘purpose’ of the United Nations. Hans Kelsen, The Law of the United Nations: A Critical Analysis of Its Fundamental Problems with Supplement 1964 19 (1950).

[16] U.S. Dept of State, Telegram to U.S. Embassy in Constantinople (May 29, 1915) https://www.armenian-genocide.org/popup/affirmation_window.html?Affirmation=160 (Due to the genocide of the Armenian population in Armenia by the Kurdish and Turkish population of Armenia with the connivance and authority of the Ottoman Empire, the French, British and Soviet governments issued a joint communique delivered by the Americans to the Turkish. Outlining the murders and offenses, the Allied governments announced to the Sublime Porte, that they would hold all members of the Ottoman Government and their agents, personally responsible for any participation in these crimes, setting off the notion of individual criminal responsibility. Its perhaps curious to note the religious origins though. The initial draft of the declaration by the Allied Powers read ‘crimes against Christianity’. However, the then French Foreign Minister Theophile Delcasse thought the usage of Christianity would antagonize the Muslim populations of the colonies of France and Britain and hence the word humanity was used.) See, Christopher Andrew, Theophile Delcasse and the Making of the Entente Cordiale (1968). See also, Michelle Tusan, “Crimes Against Humanity”: Human Rights, The British Empire, and the Origins of the Response to the Armenian Genocide, 119 Am. Hist. Rev. 47 (2014).

[17] However, some scholars think the concept predates World War I. They point to the usage of term (similar in intent) in declarations and letters in the late 1800s and early 1900s in context of slavery born from the European colonization of Africa, specifically George Washington Williams’ open letter to King Leopold II of Belgium, protesting the atrocities of colonization in the then Independent State of Congo. See, George Washington Williams, Open Letter to King Leopold on the Congo (1890), Blackpast (Aug. 20, 2009) https://www.blackpast.org/global-african-history/primary-documents-global-african-history/george-washington-williams-open-letter-king-leopold-congo-1890/. See also, Hunt Hawkins, Conrad and Congolese Exploitation, 13 Conradiana 94 (1981); Robin Kelley, “But a Local Phase of a World Problem”: Black History’s Global Vision, 1883-1950, 86 J Am. His. 1045 (1999).

[18] Antonio Cassese, International Criminal Law 81 (2003). See also, Article 227, Treaty of Versailles (July 28, 1919) https://avalon.law.yale.edu/imt/partvii.asp.

[19] Kevin Jon Heller, The Nuremburg Military Tribunals and the Origins of International Criminal Law (2011).

[20] Article 6, U.N., Charter of the International Military Tribunal- Annex to the Agreement for the prosecution and punishment of the major war criminals of the European Axis, Aug. 8, 1945, 58 Stat. 1544, 82 U.N.T.S. 280.

[21] Article II (1)(c), Control Council Law No. 10 on the Punishment of Persons Guilty of War Crimes, Crimes against Peace and Crimes against Humanity, Dec. 20, 1945. https://avalon.law.yale.edu/imt/imt10.asp.

[22] Article 5, U.N. Security Council, Statute of the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (as amended on May 17, 2002), May 25, 1993; Article 3, Statute of the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (as amended on Oct. 13, 2006), Nov. 08, 1994.

[23] Prosecutor v. Dario Kordic and Mario Cerkez, Case No.  IT-95-14/2-T ¶ 800 (Feb. 26, 2001).

[24] John Ciorciari & Anna Heindel, Hybrid Justice: The Extraordinary Chambers in the Court of Cambodia 14, 69 (2014).

[25] Prosecutor v. Kaing Guek Avi (Duch), Case No. 001/18-07-2007-ECCC/SC ¶ 347-350 (Feb. 3, 2012). The trial chamber was looking at the confinement of Cambodians in S-21 (Tuol Sleng). Having recently visited Cambodia, I was able to meet Chum Mey, one of the seven adults to have survived the prison. While he described to me the horrors of the prison, my mind turned to the various photographs displayed in the prison museum, specifically the grinning, defiant faces of individuals (who I can only identify as a female prisoner bearing the number 381 and the date 21/3/78 and a male prisoner bearing the number 399) and the words inscribed there, “May this be a symbol to the world of what happens to humanity when it is overcome by hate.”

[26] Antonio Cassese, International Criminal Law 81 (2003).

[27] This is not to say that atrocity crimes were not included or considered within international criminal law, previously. Instead, this is to signal a change in the underlying premise of the raison d’être of international criminal law, from a focus on the prevention of war through humanitarian law to human rights protection. See, Theodor Meron, The Humanization of Humanitarian Law, 94 Am. J. Int’l L. 239 (2000).

[28] Jeff McMahan, The Morality of War and the Law of War, in Just and Unjust Warriors: The Moral and Legal Status of Soldiers 19 (D. Rodin and H. Shue eds., 2008).

[29]Andrew Clapham, Human Rights and International Criminal Law in The Cambridge Companion to International Criminal Law (William Schabas eds., 2016).

[30] There’s an interesting interpretative methodology to this process. Ronald Dworkin explained it best when he envisioned the development of domestic legal systems as various authors adding chapters to a chain novel. The new author here has to be constrained by the previous chapters, which is the pre-existing material, therefore having to articulate the new law/chapter such that it best fits the political morality of the previous materials. International law can be read in the same form. The Hague Conventions dealing with the law of conflict and war refer to broader notions of laws being based in collective principles of humanity or an ius gentium. Recognizing the possibility of future developments and moving beyond the war and peace dichotomy, the Convention on the Non-Applicability of Statutory Limitations to War Crimes and Crimes Against Humanity, categorize crimes against humanity into both war and peace times. This is all to say that this shift and the ensuing refashioning of exiting statues and doctrine is not unfounded or a mere attempt to manipulate existing material to best fit the current problems. See, Ronald Dworkin, Taking Rights Seriously 229 (1978). See also, Robert Miller, The Convention on the Non-Applicability of Statutory Limitations to War Crimes and Crimes Against Humanity, 65 Am. J. Int’l L. 476 (1971); Theodor Meron, The Geneva Conventions as Customary Law, 81 Am. J. Int’l L. 348 (1987).

[31] International Convention on Civil and Political Rights, Dec. 16, 1988, 999 U.N.T.S 171 (hereinafter ICCPR); Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Dec. 8, 1948, U.N.G.A. Res. 217A(III), U.N. Doc. A/810 at 71 (1948) (hereinafter UDHR).

[32] UN Human Rights Committee, CCPR General Comment No. 8: Article 9 (Right to Liberty and Security of Persons), 30 June 1982, No. 8, https://www.refworld.org/docid/4538840110.html.

[33] UN General Assembly, Elimination of all forms of intolerance and discrimination based on religion or belief, Dec. 19, 2006, A/RES/61/16.

[34] UN General Assembly, Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms when countering terrorism, Dec. 18, 2007, A/RES/62/159.

[35] Article 7(1)(e), Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, Jul. 17, 1998, 2187 U.N.T.S. 3.

[36] International Criminal Court, Elements of Crimes 5 (2011).

[37] See, Komol Singha, Migration, Ethnicity-based Movements and State’s Response: A Study of Assam, 55 Int’l Stud. 41 (2018); Udayon Mishra, Immigration and Identity Transformation in Assam, 34 Econ. Pol. Weekly 1264 (1999); Sanjib Baruah, India Against Itself: Assam and the Politics of Nationality (1999).

[38] Closure is defined as social collectives seeking to maximize rewards by restricting accesses to resources and opportunity to a limited circle of the eligible. This is easily identifiable in the political rhetoric of ‘loss of culture’, which is essentially the reduction of cultural and social capital of the privileged by the arrival of an often-industrious new worker class which has different tastes and tendencies than them. This tends to develop tones of distinction based on the identity of the migrants, most often race and religion. See, Frank Parkin, Strategies of Social Closure in Class Formation in The Social Analysis of Class Structure 1, 18 (Frank Parkin ed., 1974).

[39] Protectionism here is evidenced by a global tendency to move towards protection of domestic labour, which is identifiable through the political rhetoric of keeping jobs at home. I suspect these two factors drive opposition towards immigrants globally. You will notice that rhetorical arguments against immigrants are based in two essential constructs, the theft of jobs and the destruction of culture. See, Jagdish Bhagwati, A Stream of Windows: Unsettling Reflections on Trade, Immigration and Democracy (1998).

[40] Anil Roychoudhury, National Register of Citizens, 1951, 16 Econ. Pol. Weekly 267 (1981).

[41] Foreigners (Tribunal) Order, 1964.

[42] See, Makiko Kimura, The Nellie Massacre of 1983: Agency of Rioters (2013); Myron Weiner, The Political Demography of Assam’s Anti-Immigration Movement, 9 Population & Dev. Rev. 279 (1983).

[43] Rudabeh Shahid & Joe Turner, Deprivation of Citizenship as Colonial Violence: Deracination and Dispossession in Assam, 1 Int’l Pol. Soc. 1 (2022).

[44] Assam Accord, 1985; Illegal Migrants (Determination by Tribunals) Act, 1985.

[45] Sarbananda Sonorwal v. Union of India, AIR 2005 SC 2920. This is a particularly pernicious judgement of the Court as they also thought that illegal immigration was akin to external aggression against the state. There were various arguments regarding the constitutionality of the new tribunals, including their discriminatory nature since the act authorising these tribunals limited jurisdiction to Assam, while the Foreigner Tribunals technically had jurisdiction over India, as a whole. But primarily, the act authorising the new tribunals required the state to prove that the charged individual was not a citizen of India, whereas Section 9 of the Foreigner’s Act, 1946 (which authorises the Foreigners Tribunals) places the burden on the charged individual. The Court, agreeing that the new tribunals made the process of chaffing out ‘illegal immigrants’ arduous, held them to be unconstitutional.

[46] The Supreme Court of India has previously held that foreigners ought to be detained pending their deportation/repatriation. The government of Assam declared their intention to detain such foreigners and the Gauhati High Court required the state to set up detention centers for those declared foreigners in Assam. However, since their presumed state of origin, Bangladesh, maintains that they are not its nationals, there is no real option of deportation. This detention has, therefore, become indefinite. Bhim Singh v. Union of India, (2012) 13 SCC 471; Santanu Borthakar v. Union of India and Ors., W.P.  (Crl) 2/2020 Gau H.C. See also, Government of Assam, White Paper on Foreigners’ Issue (2012). See generally, Centre for Public Interest Law, Securing Citizenship 98 (2020).

[47] Monish Bhatia, State Violence in India: From Border Killings to the National Register of Citizens and the Citizenship Amendment Act in Stealing Time: Migration, Temporalities and State Violence 171 (Victoria Canning & Monish Bhatia eds. 2021).

[48] Art 9, 14, 15, ICCPR; Art. 8, 9, 10 UDHR. Supra note 31.

[49] See, Art. 8, American Convention on Human Rights “Pact of San Jose, Costa Rica”, Nov. 22, 1969, 1144 U.N.T.S. 123; Art.7, 26, African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights, June 27, 1981, 1520 U.N.T.S. 217. Art. 6, Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms (as amended by Protocol No. 11) Rome, 4.Xi. 1950.

[50] U.N. General Assembly, Human Rights in the Administration of Justice, Dec. 13, 1985, A/RES/40/146; U.N. General Assembly, Declaration of Basic Principles of Justice for Victims of Crime and Abuse of Power, Nov. 29, 1985, A/RES/40/34; U.N. General Assembly, Basic Principles on the Role of Lawyers and the Basic Principles and Guidelines on the Right to a Remedy and Reparation for Victims of Gross Violations of International Human Rights Law and Serious Violations of International Humanitarian Law, Dec. 16, 2005, A/RES/60/147.

[51] Lawrence Chan v. Guyana, Communication No. 913/2000, U.N. Doc. CCPR/C/85/D/913/2000 (2006).

[52] Dudko v. Australia, Communication No. 1347/2005, U.N. Doc. CCPR/C/90/D/1347/2005 (2005).

[53] Terron v Spain, Communication No. 1073/2002, U.N. Doc. CCPR/C/82/D/1073/2002 (2002).

[54] Stefania Negri, The Principle of ‘Equality of Arms’ and the Evolving Law of International Criminal Procedure, 5 Int’l Crim. L. Rev. 513 (2005).

[55] Initially, the Supreme Court interpreted the Constitution to not require courts to impose a due process of law standard. A.K. Gopalan v. State of Madras, AIR 1950 SC 27. However, this decision was overruled in favour of the three-pronged approach in Maneka Gandhi v. Union of India, AIR 1978 SC 597 and R.C. Cooper v Union of India, AIR 1970 SC 564.

[56] Kenneth Pennington, Innocent Until Proven Guilty: The Origins of a Legal Maxim, 63 Jurist 106 (2003).

[57] Amnesty International, Designed to Exclude: How India’s Courts are Allowing Foreigners Tribunals To Render People Stateless in Assam (2019).

[58] Rule 2(2), Foreigners (Tribunals) Order, 1964 (allows the government to determine the specific qualifications and criteria they deem fit and appoint judges based on that criteria. As a matter of practice, the government issues notifications through the Gauhati High Court for recruitment which contain the qualification criteria).

[59] Government of Assam, Order by the Governor, No. PLB.143/2014/210 (July 29, 2015). To understand how severely underqualified the judges being appointed are, consider this statement by Sanjay Hegde, a Senior Advocate of the Supreme Court of India: “If the conditions for hiring the Foreigner Tribunal members were applied for example to the Debt Recovery Tribunal, people would have yelled that injustice was being done to them. Clearly, we seem to place a lesser premium on human citizenship than on human debt.”  Supra note 64.

[60] Supra note 64 at 5.

[61] U.N. Special Rapporteur on the Independence of Judges and Lawyers, Report on the essential role that the Basic Principles on the Independence of the Judiciary have played as guarantors of judicial independence, A/74/176 (July 16, 2020).

[62] Rule 2(2), Foreigners (Tribunals) Order, 1964.

[63] Shariful Islam v. Union of India, (2019) 8 Gau. LR 322.

[64] Amina Khatun v. Union of India, (2018) 4 Gau. LR 643.

[65] Unstarred Question No. 1724, Answered on 2 July 2019, Government of India, Ministry of Home Affairs, http://164.100.24.220/loksabhaquestions/annex/171/AU1724.pdf. Analysing the situation of these people, Amnesty found that despite selling their meagre possessions, most individuals are unable to appear in the Tribunals after the first or second hearing due to the financial constraints leading to the rise in orders passed ex-parte. This is despite the requirement for the state providing legal counsel. Supra note 64.

[66] Most tribunals are asking for documentary evidence of land ownership as a mark of proving citizenship. Given the class and gender hierarchies prevalent in India which prevent women, children and financially disadvantaged people from owning land, they have no method of proving citizenship. Additionally, some tribunals use stringent evidentiary standards including not permitting minor variations in spellings and ages in identity documents. In the Indian subcontinent, with English not being the first language and with various dialects leading to variations in spelling, such a standard has led to a considerable number of people being declared foreigners on flimsy grounds. Abdur Rahim v. Union of India, (1992) 1 Gau. LR 29. See, Sagar, Case Closed: How Assam’s Foreigners Tribunals, aided by the high court, function like kangaroo courts and persecute its minorities, Caravan (Nov. 5, 2019) https://caravanmagazine.in/law/assam-foreigners-tribunals-function-like-kangaroo-courts-persecute-minorities.

[67] Report of the Secretary General, Human Rights and Arbitrary Deprivation of Nationality, A/HRC/25/28 (Dec. 19, 2013).

[68] Writ or appellate jurisdiction of the High Courts and Supreme Court. Art. 32 & 226, Constitution of India, 1950.

[69] State of Assam v. Moslem Mandal & Ors., 2013 (1) GLT 809.

[70] The Supreme Court held that the Border Police Force had the powers to summarily inquire into the citizenship of any individual and then the burden of proof shifts upon the individual to prove citizenship in the Foreigners Tribunal. Idrish Ali v. Union of India, SC: WP(C)/7349/2021. It is illuminating to compare the foreigner’s tribunals to other quasi-judicial tribunals in India. Consider the Securities and Exchange Board of India, where inquiries or fact-finding missions are conducted by an officer or member of the board and then by an Appellate Authority before it reaches the final stage of adjudication, the Securities Appellate Tribunal. Alternatively, even the income tax authorities use a multi-tiered system, where inquiries are first conducted by an Income Tax Officer and the Appellate Authority before it reaches the Income Tax Appellate Tribunal. While, notionally the tribunals remain the first judicial authority in these cases, effectively a two-tiered review is conducted before the matter reaches the tribunal. Contrastingly, the Border Police Force is not required to assess citizenship, merely file references with evidence (adequate or inadequate) before the Foreigners Tribunals. Thus, the first adjudication is conducted by the Tribunal, where the burden of proof is shifted upon the defendant. Then, restricting the re-evaluation of evidence on appeal severely limits the remedies available to the defendants.

[71] There is a remarkable degree of similarity between the Foreigner’s Tribunals and immigration courts in the U.S system which reside within the executive branch, and have similar problems in terms of political control, lack of stability for judges and tenuous standards of review. See, Judge Mimi Tsankov, Human Rights at Risk: The Immigration Courts are in Need of an Overhaul, 61(1) Judges’ J. 19 (2022); Catherine Kim & Amy Semet, An Empirical Study of Political Control over Immigration Adjudication, 108 Geo. L. J. 579 (2020); Asad L. Asad, Deportation Decisions: Judicial Decision-Making in an American Immigration Court, 63(9) Am. Behav. Sci. 1221 (2019). See generally, Banks Miller, Linda Keith & Jennifer Holmes, Immigration Judges and U.S. Asylum Policy (2015).

[72] Smita Ghosh, Border Games, 1 Mich. J. L. Soc. 113 (2022).

[73] Letter to the Office of Andrew Wilkie MP, Office of the Prosecutor (Feb. 12, 2020) OTP-CR-322/14/001.

[74] Kevin Jon Heller, The OTP lets Australia off the Hook, OpinioJuris (Feb. 17, 2020) http://opiniojuris.org/2020/02/17/the-otp-lets-australia-off-the-hook/.

[75] Look no further than the indirect effects test in anti-discrimination law. See, Mark Tushnet, The Issue of State Action/Horizontal Effect in Comparative Constitutional Law, 1 Int’l J. Con. L. 79 (2003); Stephen Gardbaum, The Horizontal Effect of Constitutional Rights, 102 Mich. L. Rev.387 (2003); Austen Parrish, The Effects Test: Extraterritoriality’s Fifth Business, 61 Vand. L. Rev. 1455 (2008).

[76] Angana Chatterjee, Mihir Desai, Harsh Mander and Abdul Kalam Azad, Detention, Criminalisation and Statelessness: The Aftermath of Assam’s Statelessness, The Wire https://thewire.in/rights/detention-criminalisation-statelessness-the-aftermath-of-assams-nrc.

[77] Dulap Chandra Paul’s mental health deteriorated after having been imprisoned since 2017 and he finally passed in 2019. Nazimuddin Siddique, India’s Assam Detention Camps, 55 Econ. Pol. Weekly (2020).

[78] Ratan Chandra Biswas, who spent two and a half years in a detention camp, fell seriously ill in the camp and was admitted to the Goalpara hospital, where he remained handcuffed to a hospital bed despite his health. Id.

[79] As of 2020, there are at least thirty documented cases where the detainees have died. Sadqi Naqvi, 50-yr-old Man Lodged in Assam Detention Centre Dies, 29th Death in 3 Years, Hindustan Times (Jan. 5, 2020).

[80] Gregory Stanton, Genocide Watch for Assam India-Renewed, Genocide Watch (Aug. 18, 2019) https://www.genocidewatch.com/single-post/2019/08/18/genocide-watch-for-assam-india-renewed.

[81] Sharon Anderson-Gold, Kant, radical evil and crimes against humanity in Kant’s Anatomy of Evil 195 (Sharon Anderson-Gold & Pablo Muchik eds., 2010).

[82] See generally, Hannah Arendt, Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil (1963).

[83] Supra note 35.

[84] Usha Ramanathan, India and the ICC, 3 J. Int’l Crim. Just. 627 (2005).

[85] Shabtai Rosenne, The Jurisdiction of the International Criminal Court, 2 Yearbook of Int’l Humanitarian L. 119 (1999). Eva La Haye, The Jurisdiction of the International Criminal Court: Controversies over the Preconditions for Exercising its Jurisdiction, 46 Netherlands Int’l L. Rev. 1 (1999).

[86] U.N. Security Council, Resolution on Sudan Referral, S/RES/1593/2005.

[87] Zhu Wenqi, On Co-operation by States not Party to the International Criminal Court, 88 Int’l Rev. Red Cross 87 (2006).

[88] See generally, Alexandre Skander Galand, UN Security Council Referrals to the International Criminal Court: Legal Nature, Effects and Limits (2018); Tom Dannenbaum, Legitimacy in War and Punishment: The Security Council and the ICC in The Oxford Handbook of International Criminal Law 130 (Frederic Merget et al eds., 2020); Frederick Cowell, Inherent Imperialism: Understanding the Legal Roots of Anti-imperialist Criticism of the International Criminal Court, 15 J. Int’l Crim. Just. 667 (2018).

[89] See generally, Beyond Detention, A Global Strategy to support Governments to end the detention of asylum seekers and refugees, UNHCR (2014); A Last Resort? National Inquiry into Children in Immigration Detention, Australian Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission113 (2004); Judith Greene, Bethany Carson & Andrea Black, Indefensible: A Decade of Mass Incarceration of Migrants Prosecuted for Crossing the Border, Grassroots Leadership 45 (2016).

[90] Ruth Sangree, The Language of Mass Incarceration is being deployed against Immigrants, Brennan Center for Justice (Nov. 2, 2018) https://www.brennancenter.org/our-work/analysis-opinion/language-mass-incarceration-being-deployed-against-immigrants.

[91] As international criminal prosecutions target individuals responsible for crimes against humanity, an interesting final question to consider would be, whom should the law attribute responsibility upon, within the Indian government, for these crimes against humanity? Would it be the Prime Minister as representative of the executive branch, or bureaucrats facilitating this imprisonment, or individuals working in the Border Police Force or as guards at these camps? The impossibility of a Security Council referral and therefore any prosecution before the International Criminal Court is why this essay does not consider individual accountability, and therefore does not take up this question. See, Gerhard Werle, Individual Criminal Responsibility in Article 25 ICC Statute, 5(4) J. Int’l Crim. Just. 953 (2007); Nina Jorgenson, The Responsibility of States for International Crimes139 (2000).

[92] See, Robert D Sloane, The Expressive Capacity of International Punishment, (2007) Stanford J. of Int’l L. 39(2007); Joel Feinberg, The Expressive Function of Punishment, 49 Monist 397 (1965).

[93] Carsen Stahn, Justice as Message: Expressivist Foundations of International Criminal Justice 396 (2020). See, Barrie Sander, The Expressive Turn of International Criminal Justice: A Field in Search of Meaning, 32(4) Leiden J. Int’l L. 851 (2019).

[94] Human Rights Watch, Prison Conditions in India (1991).

[95] Harsh Mander, The dark side of humanity and legality: A glimpse inside Assam’s detention centres for ‘foreigners’, Scroll (Jun. 26, 2018 06:30AM) https://scroll.in/article/883936/assam-citizens-register-detention-centres-for-foreigners-offer-a-glimpse-of-the-looming-tragedy.

[96] Supra note 64.

[97] U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees, Global Roundtable on Alternatives to Detention of Asylum-Seekers, Refugees, Migrants and Stateless Persons (July 2011).

[98] Another example of the effect of expressivism was international outrage and the end of apartheid. See, Louise Bethlehem, Cultural Solidarities: Itineraries of Anti-Apartheid Expressive Culture, 20 J. of South African & American Stud. 143 (2020). For a generic argument of the expressive effect of the ICC, see, Errol Mendes, Peace and Justice at the International Criminal Court 170 (2010).

[99] Amit Shah, Undoing Six Decades in Six Years, NarendraModi.in (May 30, 2020, 03:11PM) https://www.narendramodi.in/ma/undoing-6-decades-in-6-years-modi-has-turned-india-into-a-self-reliant-country-brimming-with-self-confidence-551895.

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Content, Online Features, Online Scholarship, The Impact of International Law on Refugees and Migration

Due Process Denied: A Case Study on the Failures of U.S. Affirmative Asylum

Anna R. Welch and Sara P. Cressey*

With this new [asylum] program in place, we will be better equipped to carry out the spirit and intent of the Refugee Act of 1980 by applying the uniform standard of asylum eligibility, regardless of an applicant’s place of origin. We can thus implement the law based on a fair and consistent national policy and streamline what has sometimes been a long and redundant process.[1]

Gene McNary, Commissioner of the Immigration and Naturalization Service, in remarks given weeks before opening of first asylum offices.

***

Amelia fled her home country in central Africa after the country’s repressive ruling regime singled her out based on her perceived political affiliations, subjected her to severe physical and sexual violence, murdered her sibling, and kidnapped and likely killed one of her children.[2] After arriving in the United States, she found an attorney who assisted her in preparing and submitting her affirmative asylum application along with extensive supporting documentation, including expert medical reports documenting the ongoing physical and psychological effects of her trauma. A year after submitting her application, Amelia had her asylum interview with a hostile asylum officer who spent several hours interrogating her as she recounted the harrowing persecution she had suffered. Another year of waiting passed before Amelia received a request for additional evidence and a notice that she would need to attend a second interview at the asylum office. Amelia complied with both notices but was nevertheless referred to immigration court, where she spent another five years awaiting a merits hearing. She was finally granted asylum by an immigration judge eight years after her original asylum application was filed.

Introduction

America’s promise of safe haven to those fleeing from persecution, an obligation enshrined in both international and domestic law,[3] too often remains unfulfilled, particularly for racial minorities and other marginalized groups. Indeed, the right to seek asylum at the southern border has been virtually nonexistent since Title 42 was implemented in the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic.[4] Meanwhile, those who do manage to make it into the United States to lodge an asylum claim face a Byzantine administrative process plagued by “monumental” backlogs, leading to years-long (or even decades-long) wait times.[5] This Article focuses on one particular aspect of the asylum system, reporting on the first ever comprehensive study into the inner workings of an asylum office in the United States.[6] The findings of the study, set forth in the full report “Lives in Limbo: How the Boston Asylum Office Fails Asylum Seekers,” reveal larger systemic failures within the broader affirmative asylum system.[7]

The investigation into the Boston Asylum Office, spearheaded by lead investigator Anna Welch, involved both qualitative and quantitative research methods. Researchers analyzed documents and data produced by U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) in response to litigation brought to compel compliance with a Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) request, as well as USCIS Quarterly Stakeholder Reports. In addition, researchers conducted more than one hundred interviews with former supervisory asylum officers, former asylum officers, immigration attorneys, asylum seekers, and asylees. The research was completed in January 2022, and the report was released to the public on March 23, 2022. This Article reproduces the findings of the  report,  presented  as  a  resource  for practitioners, scholars, and policymakers. The report’s major conclusion is that the Boston Asylum Office maintains an asylum grant rate well below that of the national average.[8]

The Refugee Act of 1980 formalized the right to seek asylum in the United States, but “the law itself did little to define or prescribe the mechanics of obtaining this status.”[9] During the 1980s, the adjudication of affirmative asylum applications was governed by a set of interim regulations[10] under which immigration officers within Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) District Offices would adjudicate asylum claims.[11] During that period, criticism of the INS abounded as “unspecialized, under-paid, and over-worked” INS officers[12]struggled to apply the complex refugee definition.[13] On July 27, 1990, the INS issued a final rule establishing procedures to be used in determining asylum claims and mandating the creation of “a corps of professional Asylum Officers” who would receive specialized training in international law and conduct asylum interviews in a nonadversarial setting.[14] The INS then established – for the first time – seven asylum offices, with the goal of creating a fairer and uniform affirmative asylum process.[15]

Federal regulations still require that asylum officers receive “special training in international human rights law” and “nonadversarial interview techniques.”[16] USCIS training materials for asylum officers emphasize the importance of the nonadversarial interview:

It is not the role of the interviewer to oppose the principal interviewee’s request or application. Because the process is non-adversarial, it is inappropriate for you to interrogate or argue with any interviewee. You are a neutral decision- maker, not an advocate for either side. In this role you must effectively elicit information from the interviewee in a non- adversarial manner, to determine whether he or she qualifies for the benefit. . . . The non-adversarial nature of the interview allows the applicant to present a claim in an unrestricted manner, within the inherent constraints of an interview before a government official.[17]

Unfortunately, the affirmative asylum system remains plagued by many of the issues that the 1990 final rule was intended to solve. As discussed in detail below, the process for adjudicating affirmative asylum claims remains long and difficult and too often leads to inconsistent outcomes based on the applicant’s country of origin. The more informal, non-adjudicative framework for adjudicating asylum claims in the asylum offices lacks transparency and creates an opportunity for hostility and bias to permeate the decision-making process.

I. Summary of Major Findings

The Boston Asylum Office maintains an asylum grant rate well below that of the national average. Examining the average nationwide grant rate of asylum offices between 2015 and late 2020, we found that the Boston Asylum Office granted a little over 15 percent of its cases as compared to the national average grant rate of 28 percent. Examining monthly grant rates, we found that the Boston Asylum Office’s grant rates dropped into the single digits on multiple occasions. While the Boston Asylum Office maintains the second lowest grant rate in the country, several asylum offices around the country also maintain grant rates below that of the national average.

Indeed, many of the problems identified in this study are likely not isolated problems but rather are reflective of larger systemic failures pervasive in other asylum ffices around the country. As part of this study, we interviewed former asylum officers and supervisory asylum officers from asylum offices around the country. Many noted the prevalence of biased decision-making, the outsized role of upper management and/or supervisory asylum officers, and insufficient time to complete their job functions. Yet their functions are critical to ensuring U.S. compliance with international and domestic asylum protections.

We ultimately find that the Boston Asylum Office is failing asylum applicants in violation of international obligations and U.S. domestic law. The Boston Asylum Office’s biased and combative asylum interview process, asylum backlog, and years-long wait for adjudication has had devastating impacts on applicants and their families. If an asylum officer does not grant a case, the case is typically referred to immigration court, an intentionally adversarial setting.[18] Although the Boston Immigration Court has a significantly higher asylum grant rate than the Boston Asylum Office,[19] asylum applicants face even lengthier backlogs before being heard by an immigration judge, leading to further delay.[20] As a result, asylum seekers face years of legal limbo, rendering many individuals ineligible for social services and contributing to significant instability. The years-long wait to be granted asylum causes lengthy separation from family members (many of whom remain in life-threatening danger) and deterioration of the applicant’s mental health.[21]

Specific Findings:

First, the Boston Asylum Office exhibits bias against applicants from certain countries as well as a bias against non-English speakers, as displayed in Table 2 below.

The Boston Asylum Office does not maintain a nationality-neutral determination process, as mandated by international and domestic law. Notably, applicants from certain countries – including Angola, Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), Rwanda, and Burundi – experience lower grant rates in the Boston Asylum Office than in the Newark Asylum Office.[22] From 2015 to 2020, the Boston Asylum Office granted asylum to just four percent of asylum applicants from the DRC despite extensive documentation of human rights abuses in the DRC. Indeed, the U.S. Department of State has acknowledged year after year that “significant human rights” abuses occur in the DRC, including that DRC security forces commit “unlawful and arbitrary killings . . . forced disappearances, [and] torture” against citizens.[23]

Interviews with asylum attorneys confirmed the prevalence of biased decision-making among adjudicators in the Boston Asylum Office. One asylum attorney noted, “the belief of the Boston Asylum Office is that [clients from certain African countries] are not telling the truth . . . We have taken a number of cases that have been referred from the Boston Asylum Office and then we have won them in court without a problem and there has been no suspicion about negative credibility.”[24]

Moreover, data collected from our FOIA request revealed that English speakers are much more likely to be granted asylum in Boston than non-English speakers, even though speaking English is irrelevant to an individual’s eligibility for asylum.

As demonstrated in Figure 2 above, English-speaking asylum seekers are nearly twice as likely to be granted asylum as compared to non-English speakers. Conversely, non-English speakers are referred to immigration courts 80 percent of the time, while English speakers are referred to immigration court only 58 percent of the time.[25]

Second, the Boston Asylum Office’s low grant rate is likely driven by the oversized role for supervisory asylum officers. Although the Affirmative Asylum Procedures Manual requires that asylum officers be given “substantial deference” in deciding whether to grant a case,[26] we found that supervisory asylum officers exercise a high degree of influence over decisions made by asylum officers.

One supervisory asylum officer familiar with the Boston Asylum Office observed that the asylum officers and supervisory asylum officers hired in Boston generally trended against granting asylum.[27] Every decision rendered by an asylum officer must go through supervisory review. When a supervisory asylum officer returns an application to an asylum officer for further review or reconsideration, this creates additional work for the asylum officer. The officer may be forced to conduct additional investigation or even re-interview the asylum seeker to support their original decision. This additional work can lead to negative performance reviews because supervisory asylum officers can give asylum officers negative performance reviews if their decisions require reconsideration. Additionally, asylum officers are evaluated, in part, on the number of decisions they issue during a given timeframe. In light of these negative impacts, asylum officers are incentivized to write decisions their supervisor agrees with, regardless of whether they think a given applicant meets the requirements for asylum.

Third, asylum officers face time constraints and high caseloads that incentivize them to cut corners. By the end of 2021, the Boston Asylum Office’s backlog of asylum cases had grown to over 20,000 pending applications.[28] To ensure that asylum seekers fleeing persecution receive adequate due process, asylum officers are responsible for a lengthy list of job duties. These include conducting interviews with asylum applicants and engaging in a thorough review of an asylum applicant’s oral testimony and written documentation. Asylum officers must also remain abreast of ever-changing asylum laws and policies and country conditions. Several former asylum officers and supervisory asylum officers stated that they simply lacked the time to complete their required jobs. They reported feeling that they needed to rush through their review of asylum applications and decision drafting, even going as far as to recycle old decisions.[29]

Fourth, we found that compassion fatigue and burnout lead to lower grant rates. Former asylum officers and supervisory asylum officers observed that after time they became desensitized to the traumatic stories that accompany most asylum applications. One former asylum officer stated that asylum applicants’ traumatic stories became so “mundane as to lose salience.”[30] Troublingly, this skepticism is apparent to those appearing before the asylum officers. Asylum applicants and their attorneys noted that asylum officers were often dismissive of the asylum applicant’s trauma and were sometimes even combative with applicants. As discussed above, U.S. regulations require that asylum interviews be non-adversarial, meaning that an asylum officer must not argue with or interrogate an asylum applicant.[31] However, many asylum attorneys commented that asylum officers took an adversarial and combative approach with applicants, in direct violation of U.S. law.[32]

Finally, we found that asylum officers disproportionately focus on an asylum applicant’s credibility and small, peripheral details to find “inconsistencies” rather than the salient facts of an applicant’s case.[33] Their search for “inconsistencies” fails to recognize that many asylum seekers have experienced trauma and may suffer PTSD-induced memory loss. Moreover, given the massive asylum backlogs across the country,[34] it is very common for years to go by between the asylum applicant’s traumatic experience in their country and their asylum interview. Those years of waiting can lead to faded memories, particularly with respect to details about specific dates, times and smaller events.

II. Recommendations

We now turn to several recommendations to help address failures in U.S. compliance with international and domestic asylum protections.

First, the Boston Asylum Office must develop enhanced transparency and accountability. We call for a U.S. Government Accountability Office investigation into the Boston Asylum Office and recommend replacing asylum officers and supervisory asylum officers who demonstrate bias and/or a lack of cultural literacy. We also call for a system to mitigate the outsized role that supervisory asylum officers play in swaying the decisions of asylum officers.

Second, we recommend that all asylum interviews be recorded and that those recordings be made available to asylum applicants and their attorneys, where applicable. Currently, asylum interviews at all asylum offices around the country take place behind closed doors with no recordings or written transcripts. The only written record of what took place during an asylum interview is the asylum officer’s notes. Such notes are often not reflective of what happened during the interview, incomplete, riddled with errors. Absent an accurate recording or transcript, asylum officers may employ improper practices, such as adversarial, insensitive and biased interview techniques, with impunity. This is especially true if the asylum applicant does not have an attorney to bear witness to what occurred during the interview. Importantly, the creation and preservation of accurate records of asylum interviews is critical to ensuring that asylum seekers’ due process rights are realized in immigration court. The asylum officer’s notes and assessments are often used to impeach asylum applicants in immigration court even if they are not reflective of what was said during the interview.

Third, we call for more support and resources for asylum offices. We recommend limiting officers to one interview per day, instituting more rigorous hiring standards, support structures, and mentorship, and improving asylum officer training, with a focus on mitigating bias and racism. We also recommend developing more asylum officer trainings on trauma, compassion fatigue, and cultural literacy.

Fourth, we recommend a paper-based adjudications process that would take the place of the asylum interview when it is clear asylum should be granted based on the evidence submitted. This would help address the backlog and preserve resources by limiting asylum interviews to cases where the outcome is less certain, or where credibility or national security are relevant concerns.

Finally, we recommend ending the “last-in, first-out” (LIFO) policy that prioritizes the adjudication of cases most recently filed.[35] The LIFO policy extends wait times for hundreds of thousands of asylum applicants whose cases have already been pending for years.36

Conclusion

Since this study was released in March 2022, several members of Congress from Massachusetts and Maine called on the Department of Homeland Security Office of Inspector General to investigate the Boston Asylum Office to hold the office accountable.37 To date, an investigation has not yet been granted, and the issues brought to light by this study remain pressing.

The Boston Asylum Office has instituted several changes that we hope will bring it into better compliance with its legal obligations. These changes include increasing the number of asylum officers and overhauling supervisory staff. The office has also added a “section chief” who is tasked with ensuring that asylum officers make legally correct decisions, rather than decisions that respond to pressures from supervisory asylum officers.

While these developments are certainly encouraging, the troubling fact remains that practices at the Boston Asylum Office have diverged significantly from the requirements of U.S. and international asylum protections. To ensure that asylum seekers in New England receive the protection to which they are entitled, monitoring data and practices of the Boston Asylum Office remains necessary. As it stands, stories like Amelia’s who, as mentioned at the outset, was forced to wait over eight years for her asylum case to be finally adjudicated are far too common, leading asylum seekers with meritorious claims to remain in limbo for years, unable to petition for family members who may still be living in danger.

Our sincere hope is that other advocates will use this first-of-its’s-kind case study as a model. Although the study focused on one asylum office, the issues we uncovered reveal larger systemic patterns likely pervasive throughout the United States affirmative asylum system. Given the life-or-death stakes in asylum cases, additional investigation remains imperative to ensure due process is realized for asylum seekers.

* * *

[*] Clinical Professor Anna Welch is the founding director of the University of Maine School of Law’s Refugee and Human Rights Clinic. Sara Cressey is the Staff Attorney for the Refugee and Human Rights Clinic. The authors express our sinceregratitude to the current and former Refugee and Human Rights Clinic student attorneys who devoted countless hours topreparing and writing the report entitled Lives in Limbo: How the Boston Asylum Office Fails Asylum Seekers, upon which thisArticle is based, including Emily Gorrivan (’22), Grady Hogan (’22), Camrin Rivera (’22), Jamie Nohr (’23), and Aisha Simon (’23). The report was also made possible by volunteers Adam Fisher and Alex Beach, who conducted valuable analysis of data collected from U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services. Finally, the authors are indebted to the Clinic’s collaborators who co-authored the report: the Immigrant Legal Advocacy Project (ILAP), American Civil Liberties Union ofMaine (ACLU of Maine), and Basileus Zeno, Ph.D. The report received the Clinical Legal Education Association’s 2022 Award for Excellence in a Public Interest Case or Project. An extended version of this piece is forthcoming in early 2024 in Volume 57, Issue 1 of the Loyola of L.A. Law Review.

[1] Gene McNary, INS Response to Immigration Reform, 14 IN DEFENSE OF THE ALIEN 3, 6 (1991).

[2] This story is drawn from the stories of multiple clients of the Refugee and Human Rights Clinic. Names and details have been changed to protect the privacy of those clients and preserve confidentiality.

[3] Congress enacted the Refugee Act of 1980 to bring the United States into conformity with international standards for the protection of refugees established by the 1951 Convention relating to the Status of Refugees and the 1967 Protocol relating to the Status ofRefugees. See S. REP. No. 96-256, at 4 (1980), as reprinted in 1980 U.S.C.C.A.N. 141, 144.

[4] Between March 2020 and April 2022, Border Patrol expelled 1.8 million migrants under Title 42, the vast majority of whom came from Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador. John Gramlich, Key Facts About Title 42, the Pandemic Policy That Has Reshaped Immigration Enforcement at U.S.-Mexico Border, PEW RESEARCH CENTER (Apr. 27, 2022), https://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2022/04/27/key-facts-about-title-42-the- pandemic-policy-that-has-reshaped-immigration-enforcement-at-u-s-mexico-border/; see also Human Rights Watch, US: Treatment of Haitian Migrants Discriminatory (Sept. 21, 2021), https://www.hrw.org/news/2021/09/21/us-treatment-haitian-migrants-discriminatory (“Title 42 . . . singles out asylum seekers crossing into the United States at land borders – particularly from Central America, Africa, and Haiti who aredisproportionately Black, Indigenous, and Latino – for expulsion.”). Those expelled under Title 42 have faced life- threatening violence either in Mexico or in the countries from which they originally fled. See, e.g., Julia Neusner, A Year After Del Rio,Haitian Asylum Seekers Expelled Under Title 42 Are Still Suffering, HUMAN RIGHTS FIRST (Sept. 22, 2022), https://humanrightsfirst.org/library/a-year-after-del-rio-haitian-asylum-seekers-expelled-under-title-42-are-still-suffering/; Kathryn Hampton, Michele Heisler, Cynthia Pompa, & Alana Slavin, Neither Safety Nor Health: How Title 42 Expulsions HarmHealth and Violate Rights, Physicians for Human Rights (July 2021), available at https://phr.org/our-work/resources/neither-safety-nor-health/.

[5] Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse (TRAC), A Mounting Asylum Backlog and Growing Wait Times (Dec. 22,2021), https://trac.syr.edu/immigration/reports/672/; see also Transactional Record Access Clearinghouse (TRAC), Immigration Court Asylum Backlogs (Oct. 2022), https://trac.syr.edu/phptools/immigration/asylumbl/.

[6] U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services operates ten asylum offices within the United States. See U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services, Fiscal Year 2021 Report to Congress: Backlog Reduction of Pending Affirmative Asylum Cases, at 4 (Oct. 20, 2021), available at https://www.dhs.gov/sites/default/files/2021-12/USCIS%20-%20Backlog%20Reduction%20of%20Pending%20Affirmative%20Asylum%20Cases.pdf. The asylum offices are responsible for adjudicating affirmative asylum applications filed by asylum seekers who are not otherwise in removal or deportationproceedings. See 8 C.F.R. § 208.2(a)-(b).

[7] University of Maine School of Law, American Civil Liberties Union of Maine, and Immigrant Legal Advocacy Project, “Livesin Limbo: How the Boston Asylum Office Fails Asylum Seekers” (March       2022), available at https://mainelaw.maine.edu/wp-content/uploads/sites/1/Lives-in-Limbo-How-the-Boston-Asylum-Office-Fails-Asylum-Seekers-FINAL-1.pdf (hereinafter “Lives in Limbo”).

[8] See id. at 3-4. The report’s authors analyzed data pertaining to asylum applications adjudicated by the Boston and Newark Asylum Offices between 2015 and 2020. Unfortunately, available data for decisions made since the end of 2020 suggests that the trends at the Boston Asylum Office have remained consistent. In the first quarter of 2022, the office’s approval rate remained at eleven percent. See U.S. Citizenship & Immigration Servs., I-589 Asylum Summary Overview, at 10, available at https://www.uscis.gov/sites/default/files/document/data/Asylum_Division_Quarterly_Statistics_Report_FY22_Q1_V4.pdf.

[9] Gregg A. Beyer, Establishing the United States Asylum Officer Corps: A First Report, 4 INT’L J. REFUGEE L. 455, 458 (1992).

[10] See Aliens and Nationality; Refugee and Asylum Procedures, 45 Fed. Reg. 37392, 37392 (June 2, 1980); Aliens and Nationality; Asylum and Withholding of Deportation Procedures, 52 Fed. Reg. 32552-01, 32552 (Aug. 28, 1987); Aliens and Nationality; Asylum and Withholding of Deportation Procedures, 53 Fed. Reg. 11300-01, 11300 (Apr. 6, 1988); Aliens and Nationality; Asylum and Withholding of Deportation Procedures, 55 Fed. Reg. 30674-01, 30675 (July 27, 1990).

[11] Id. at 459.

[12] Gregg A. Beyer, Affirmative Asylum Adjudication in the United States, 6 GEO. IMMIGR. L.J. 253, 274 (1992).

[13] Id. at 268-69.

[14] See Aliens and Nationality; Asylum and Withholding of Deportation Procedures, 55 Fed. Reg. 30674-01, 30680, 30682 (July 27, 1990) (to be codified at 8 C.F.R. pt. 208).

[15] Beyer, supra note 6, at 470.

[16] 8 C.F.R. § 208.1(b).

[17] U.S. CITIZENSHIP & IMMIGR. SERVS.: REFUGEE, ASYLUM, & INT’L OPERATIONS DIRECTORATE OFFICER TRAINING, INTERVIEWING – INTRODUCTION TO THE NON- ADVERSARIAL   INTERVIEW,   at   15-16   (Dec.   20,   2019),   available   at https://www.uscis.gov/sites/default/files/document/foia/Interviewing_-_Intro_to_the_NonAdversarial_Interview_LP_RAIO.pdf.

[18] 8 U.S.C. § 1229a(b)(1) (“The immigration judge shall administer oaths, receive evidence, and interrogate, examine, and cross-examine the alien and any witnesses.”).

[19] Compare Exec. Off. for Immigr. Review, Adjudication Statistics: FY 2022 ASYLUM GRANT  RATES BY COURT, available at https://www.justice.gov/eoir/page/file/1160866/download (showing an asylum grant rate of nearly 30% for the Boston Immigration Court in Fiscal Year 2022), with U.S. CITIZENSHIP & IMMIGR. SERVS., I-589 AFFIRMATIVE ASYLUM SUMMARYOVERVIEW FY 2022 Q1 (OCT 1, 2021 – DEC 31, 2021), at 10, https://www.uscis.gov/sites/default/files/document/data/Asylum_Division_Quarterly_Statistics_Report_FY22_Q1_V4.pdf (showing an asylum grant rate of approximately 11% for the Boston Asylum Office in the first quarter of Fiscal Year 2022). Many asylum offices have approval rates below that of the immigration courts. In fact, the most recent data reported by the Transactional Record Access Clearinghouse revealed that over three quarters of the asylum cases referred to the immigration courts by the asylum offices are granted. See Transactional Record Access Clearinghouse (TRAC), “Speeding Up the Asylum Process Leads to Mixed Results,” (Nov. 29, 2022), https://trac.syr.edu/reports/703/ (“Over three- quarters (76%) of cases USCIS asylum officers had rejected were granted asylum on rehearing by Immigration Judges.”).

[20] See Jasmine Aguilera, A Record-Breaking 1.6 Million People are now Mired in U.S. Immigration Court Backlogs, TIME, https://time.com/6140280/immigration-court- backlog/; TRAC Immigration, Immigration Court Backlog Now Growing Faster Than Ever, Burying Judges in an Avalanche of cases (Jan. 18, 2022), https://trac.syr.edu/immigration/reports/675/;Transactional Record Access Clearinghouse (TRAC), Immigration Court Asylum Backlogs (October 2022), https://trac.syr.edu/phptools/immigration/asylumbl/.

[21] Interview with asylum attorney (November 2021) (“[My client is] having severe depression. This has derailed his life . . . I’ve never seen an individual on the brink of a nervous breakdown. I don’t know if he’ll survive this or overcome this.”).

[22] Data from the Newark Asylum Office provides a useful comparison because prior to the creation of the Boston Asylum Office, the Newark Asylum Office adjudicated affirmative asylum cases for the Boston region with a higher average grant rate than the Boston Asylum Office.

[23] U.S. Dep’t of State, Democratic Republic of Congo 2020 Human Rights REPORT (Mar. 30, 2021),https://www.state.gov/reports/2020-country-reports-on-human-rights-practices/democratic-republic-of-the-congo/.

[24] Interview with asylum attorney (January 2022). See Interview with asylum attorney (August 2021) (“From my experiences with clients in the Boston Asylum Office, there seem to be people at the Boston Asylum Office who set the mindset against certain ethnic groups or nationalities. . . it’s like they default to ‘everybody’s a liar.’”); Interview with asylum attorney (November 2021) (stating that when he appeared in the Boston Immigration Court, some judges have asked why certain cases were referred from the asylum office, expressing exasperation that these cases are adding to the court’s backlog where they were clearly approvable at the affirmative level).

[25] This, in turn, leaves asylum seekers in legal limbo and drains government resources.

[26] Affirmative Asylum Procedures Manual, U.S. CITIZENSHIP AND IMMIGR. SERVS., RAIO, Asylum Division, 27 (May 17, 2016), https://www.uscis.gov/sites/default/files/document/guides/AAPM-2016.pdf (“It is not the role of the SAO to ensure that the AO decided the case as he or she would have decided it. AOs must be given substantial deference once it has been established that the analysis is legally sufficient.”).

[27] Interview with former supervisory asylum officer familiar with the Boston Asylum Office (November 2021) (explaining that the asylum officers and supervisory asylum officers initially hired at the Boston Asylum Office “tended to be people who did not grant [asylum] that much,” and noted that supervisory asylum officers are given “a lot of leeway” in refusing to give the asylum seeker the “benefit of the doubt.”).

[28] U.S. CITIZENSHIP & IMMIGR. SERVS., I-589 AFFIRMATIVE ASYLUM SUMMARY OVERVIEW  FY2022  Q1  (OCT  1,  2021–DEC 31, 2021), at 12, https://www.uscis.gov/sites/default/files/document/data/Asylum_Division_Quarterly_Statistics_Report_FY22_Q1_V4.pdf (listing the Boston Asylum Office’s affirmative asylum caseload as 20,900 as of December 31, 2021). Backlogs in asylum cases are not unique to the Boston Asylum Office. Nationally, the backlog reached a “historic high” during the Trump Administration, with over 386,000 pending applications by the end of fiscal year 2020. HUM. RTS. FIRST, PROTECTION POSTPONED: ASYLUM OFFICE BACKLOGS CAUSE SUFFERING, SEPARATE FAMILIES, AND UNDERMINE INTEGRATION 1-4 (Apr. 9, 2021), https://www.humanrightsfirst.org/sites/default/files/ProtectionPostponed.pdf.

[29] Interview with former supervisory asylum officer (November 2021) (“The abuse or temptation to short circuit and not do a full-fledged asylum interview is great for officers who have a tremendous backlog.”); Interview with former asylum officer (December 2021) (“There is a perverse incentive to rush through cases. Asylum officers have a stack of cases and they must turn them around quickly . . . We interview so many applicants with similar claims and many of us ended up recycling decisions, plugging in new facts and doing similar credibility assessments.”).

[30] Interview with former asylum officer (December 2021) (“This response is absolutely part of the trauma asylum officers hold from doing this work . . . Asylum officers are just exhausted. We are hearing stories of torture and abuse, often involving children, and it’s really exhausting and there’s no real support or even acknowledgement of the impact on us.”).

[31] 8 C.F.R. § 208.1(b); see also U.S. CITIZENSHIP & IMMIGR. SERVS.: REFUGEE, ASYLUM, & INT’L OPERATIONS DIRECTORATE OFFICER TRAINING, INTERVIEWING – INTRODUCTION TO THE NON-ADVERSARIAL INTERVIEW, at 15-16 (Dec. 20, 2019), available at https://www.uscis.gov/sites/default/files/document/foia/Interviewing_-_Intro_to_the_NonAdversarial_Interview_LP_RAIO.pdf (instructing that AOs are “neutral decision-maker[s]” and thus must maintain a “neutral and professional demeanor even when confronted with . . . a difficult or challenging [asylum seeker] or representative, or an [asylum seeker] whom [the AO] suspect[s] is being evasive or untruthful”).

[32] Former asylum attorney interview (November 2021) (“The client was a survivor of torture and [the officer] laughed multiple times throughout the client telling her story . . . She checked her test messages during the interview . . . The [applicant] was pouring his heart out to this person and she’s laughing . . . and yet when she is engaged, she’s cross examining him up and down.”).

[33] Interview with asylum attorney (January 2022) (“Questions seemed to be a direct way to suggest that the client was not credible . . . it was completely unnecessary and not relevant and really insensitive to the fact that [the client] was super traumatized and trying to recount horrific details about violence they experienced.”).

[34] See U.S. CITIZENSHIP & IMMIGR. SERVS., I-589 AFFIRMATIVE ASYLUM SUMMARY OVERVIEW  FY2022  Q1  (OCT  1,  2021  –  DEC  31,  2021),  at  12, https://www.uscis.gov/sites/default/files/document/data/Asylum_Division_Quarterly_Statistics_Report_FY22_Q1_V4.pdf (listing number of pending asylum cases in each asylum office as of December 31, 2021).

[35] See Archive of Press Release, U.S. Citizenship & Immigr. Servs., USCIS to Take Action to Address Asylum Backlog (Jan. 31, 2018), available at https://www.uscis.gov/news/news-releases/uscis-take-action-address-asylum-backlog. The LIFO policy was implemented by the Trump administration, “to deter those who might try to use the existing [asylum] backlog as a means to obtain employment authorization,” id., and remains in effect today. See U.S. Citizenship & Immigr. Servs., Affirmative Asylum.
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