Breaking new ground: the The Hague district court’s ruling in the Shell Nigeria case

Guest post by Liesbeth Enneking

On January 30th, the The Hague district court rendered a verdict in five civil liability procedures that had been brought by a number of Nigerian farmers and the Dutch NGO Milieudefensie against Royal Dutch Shell (RDS) and its Nigerian subsidiary Shell Petroleum Development Company of Nigeria (SPDC). The reasons for these procedures were four incidents in which oil had spilled from SPDC-operated pipelines in the Nigerian Niger Delta, causing damage to the neighbouring farmers’ lands and fishponds, compromising their livelihoods. The plaintiffs had asked the court, among other things, for a declaratory judgment holding that the defendant companies had acted unlawfully towards them and could be held liable for the resulting damage.

In its ruling, the district court dismissed the plaintiffs’ claims in four of the five procedures. On the basis of the evidence presented to it, the court came to the conclusion that the oil spills were a result of sabotage, and not a result of faulty maintenance as had been argued by the plaintiffs. This, in combination with the fact that under Nigerian law the operator of an oil pipeline is not liable, in principle, for harm resulting from oil spills caused by sabotage, led the court to dismiss the claims against SPDC. It also dismissed the claims against the parent company RDS, finding that under Nigerian tort law a parent company does not in principle have a legal obligation to prevent its subsidiaries from causing harm to third parties except under special circumstances, which the court did not find to exist.

In the fifth procedure, however, which related to two oil spills in 2006 and 2007 from an abandoned wellhead near the village of Ikot Ada Udo, the The Hague district court did grant the plaintiff’s claims, albeit only in part, ordering SPDC to pay compensation for the resulting loss. Although starting from the assumption that the immediate cause of the oil spills had been sabotage, the court in this specific case decided that SPDC was liable for the damage caused to the plaintiff’s crops and fishponds as a result of the oil spills. According to the court, SPDC had been negligent in leaving behind the wellhead without adequately securing it, thus making it simple for saboteurs to unscrew its valves. This led the court to conclude that in failing to take sufficient precautions against the risk of sabotage, SPDC had violated the duty of care it owed to neighbouring farmers.

On this basis, the The Hague district court concluded last Wednesday that SPDC had committed the tort of negligence viz-à-viz one of the farmers involved in the dispute and can be held liable for the damage he has suffered as a result. The exact amount of the compensation that is to be paid will be established in follow-up proceedings for the determination of damages. Notwithstanding the fact that all other claims made by the Nigerian farmers and Milieudefensie in these procedures have been dismissed, including those against the parent company RDS, The Hague district court’s ruling is groundbreaking.

Over the past two decades, Western societies around the world have seen a trend towards transboundary civil liability cases against (the parent companies of) multinational corporations. These so-called ‘foreign direct liability cases’ are typically brought before Western society courts by citizens from developing host countries who have suffered harm as a result of those multinationals’ local activities there. The main reason for pursuing these claims is that the host country plaintiffs are typically unable to address and obtain redress for the harm caused to them in their own countries before their local courts.

The reasons for this include the fact that they may not expect to receive a fair trial by an impartial court locally, that the local legal system may not be up to dealing with such complicated claims, that the local subsidiary may have ceased to exist or that they seek to hold the parent company accountable so as to make a statement and perhaps bring about structural changes in the multinational’s environmental, health & safety, human rights and/or labour policies.

The vast majority of these cases have so far been pursued in the US, where an obscure 1789 federal statute called the Alien Tort Statute (ATS) has since its ‘rediscovery’ in the 1980s provided non-US citizens (‘aliens’) with a legal basis for bringing before US federal courts civil liability claims relating to international human rights violations perpetrated anywhere in the world. A high-profile example are the claims against a large group of multinationals including General Motors, IBM and DaimlerChrysler for their alleged involvement in human rights violations perpetrated by the South African Apartheid regime.

In the spring of 2013, the US Supreme Court is expected to consider a number of fundamental questions relating to the interpretation of the ATS, including its applicability in foreign direct liability cases, in the case of Kiobel v. Shell. This case relates to Shell’s alleged involvement in human rights violations perpetrated by the Nigerian military regime in the 1990s against environmental activists who were protesting against the environmental degradation caused by oil exploration activities in the Nigerian Niger Delta.

Also in other Western societies such as Australia, Canada and the UK courts have been asked to deal with claims by plaintiffs from developing host countries who seek to address and obtain redress for harm caused to people and planet there by multinationals that are incorporated or headquartered in or otherwise connected to the forum country. Due to a lack of an ATS-equivalent, these non-US foreign direct liability claims have typically been pursued on the basis of general principles of tort law and the tort of negligence in particular. Recent examples include the Probo Koala toxic waste dumping incident, which led not only to the criminal prosecution of the international oil trading company Trafigura in the Netherlands but also to the pursuit of civil claims against Trafigura before the London High Court by a large group of Ivorian citizens. A group action brought against Shell by 11,000 Nigerians from the Bodo community in relation to two serious oil-spill incidents in the Niger Delta is currently pending before that same court.

The foreign direct liability claims against Shell in which the The Hague district court has now rendered a verdict are the first to have been brought before a court in the Netherlands, a fact that makes them unique. Already in 2009, the court issued a ruling stating that it had jurisdiction not only over the Netherlands-based parent company but also over the Nigerian subsidiary, due to the close connection between the claims against both entities. Even regardless of their outcome, the fact that the plaintiffs have succeeded in bringing their foreign direct liability claims against RDS and SPDC before the The Hague district court is a novelty that may signal to other plaintiffs in potential future cases that it is possible to bring this type of claim in the Netherlands. This is especially important at a time when controversy surrounding the ATS is increasing, rendering it a less reliable basis for future foreign direct liability claims.

What is also novel is the fact that the The Hague district court has rendered a ruling on the merits of these claims. Of all of the foreign direct liability cases that have been brought in other Western societies so far, only a handful have reached the trial stage; the far majority have either been dismissed at a preliminary (pre-trial) stage or settled out of court. Of course, what makes this case particularly salient is the fact that SPDC, Shell’s Nigerian subsidiary, has been held liable by the court for having failed to exercise proper care towards (one of) the plaintiffs, and has been ordered to pay compensation for the damage suffered. Although this may not seem like such a sweeping result, it is one of the very first instances that a corporate entity within a multinational group, albeit a subsidiary, has been held liable in a foreign direct liability claim.

As regards the issue of parent company liability, which is particularly interesting from a legal perspective as it is a relatively novel and uncharted concept, the court leaves the door ajar. It has explicitly rejected Shell’s contention that the plaintiffs’ claims against the parent company RDS were manifestly prospectless. According to the court, a parent company may under certain circumstances be held liable under Nigerian (and English) tort law for harm caused to third parties by the activities of its subsidiaries, as is made clear by a recent case in the UK in which a parent company was held liable for asbestos-related injuries suffered by an employee of one of its subsidiaries. The court also considers, however, that under the particular circumstances of these claims (including the court’s conclusion that the spills were caused by sabotage), there is no reason to depart from the general principle in Nigerian (and English) tort law that there is no general duty of care to prevent others from suffering harm as a result of the activities of third parties.

All in all, even though the The Hague district court’s ruling in the Shell Nigeria case does not necessarily set a precedent in a strictly legal sense (due to the fact that it is a rendered by a Dutch court on the basis of Nigerian tort law), it is likely to have a broad impact. It represents another step on a path that leads from soft law standards on the social responsibilities of internationally operating business enterprises towards hard law consequences. Moreover, it will provide a signal to legal practitioners, legal academics and especially Western society courts dealing with this type of claims that the trend towards these foreign direct liability cases is a real one. After all, it shows that both subsidiaries and parent companies of Western society-based multinationals may be held accountable before courts in their home countries, not only in principle but also in practice. This message is likely to strike a note not only among lawyers, but also among multinationals, NGOs, policymakers and the general public in both developing host countries and Western society home countries.

Liesbeth Enneking is a postdoctoral research fellow at UCALL, Utrecht University’s Centre for Accountability and Liability Law. In May 2012, she defended her PhD thesis on foreign direct liability and the role of tort law in promoting international corporate social responsibility and accountability. The text of this blog will be incorporated into an article on this issue; please do not quote without prior permission from the author.

The ECtHR, the Catholic Church and Rights in Conflict

The ever-instructive UK Human Rights Blog (Rosalind English and commenter hp lehofer) reports on an illuminating series of cases, all deriving from one case in Austria. (I should say at once that these were not blasphemy cases along the lines of Otto Preminger Institut v Austria.)

In all three cases, an Austrian news magazine had published reports of police searches at a Catholic seminary at St. Pölten. The police was reported to have searched for child pornography alleged to have been downloaded at the seminary. In connection with these allegations, the news magazine reported that the principal and deputy principal of the seminary had had homosexual relations with some of the seminarians. Some suggestive photographs were also published.

The principal and deputy principal sued before the Austrian courts, requesting damages. Both lost. However, the principal also applied for a judicial injunction against (inter alia) the publication of the photographs. This was granted by the Austrian Supreme Court.

In a strange twist, therefore, both parties of the overall dispute took their cases to Strasbourg. The magazine argued that the injunction had breached Article 10 (freedom of expression), whereas the principal and deputy principal submitted that their rights under Article 8 (privacy) had been violated by the refusal of damages. The cases of Verlagsgruppe News GmbH and Bobi v Austria on the one hand and Küchl v Austria and Rothe v Austria on the other hand therefore effectively pitted the parties from the domestic cases against one another again (even though the cases were technically against Austria, obviously).

In another neat twist, neither side won (except Austria). Continue reading

Assistant Professor in International Relations at University of Amsterdam

Job description

Developing, conducting, and supervising high quality academic research on International Relations;

Teaching general and specialist courses in Political Science, more in particular International Relations at both undergraduate and post-graduate levels, and involvement in post-graduate supervision;

(Participation in) the acquisition of external research funding;

Contributing to the research programme of the Amsterdam Institute for Social Science Research and to the development of the field through scholarly publications and participation in national and international research networks and educational initiatives.
Requirements

A completed doctoral thesis in Political Science or other relevant field in the social sciences;

An ongoing programme of research and publications, focused on internationally ranked, ‘peer reviewed’ journals and/or books published by internationally recognized academic presses;

Broad general knowledge in International Relations;

Mastery of appropriate social science research methods (qualitative and/or quantitative);

Ability to provide excellent and inspiring teaching at both undergraduate and postgraduate levels, in English as well as (eventually) Dutch;

Strong passive and adequate active knowledge of Dutch, or the ability and willingness to acquire such within a period of three years;

The basic qualification at Dutch universities in higher education (Basiskwalificatie Onderwijs; BKO) certificate, or a willingness to acquire such.

Conditions of employment

Depending on experience, pay will be based on assistant professor scale 1 or 2 (i.e. a gross monthly salary ranging from a minimum of €3195 to a maximum of € 4970 for full-time work, based on the January 2009 salary scale). Holiday pay is 8% of the gross annual salary, while the year-end bonus is 8.3% of the gross annual salary. According to our employment policies, you will be offered a temporary contract for three years, with conditions for tenured position thereafter agreed upon appointment.

Organisation

Faculty of Social and Behavioural Sciences

The Faculty of Social and Behavioural Sciences (FMG) is the largest educational and research institution in the social sciences in the Netherlands. The Faculty serves around 9,000 students in numerous Bachelor’s and Master’s programs in Political Science, Sociology, Anthropology, Communication Science, Psychology, Social Geography, Planning and International Development Studies, and Educational Sciences. The academic staff is employed in education as well as research. There are over 1,200 employees at the Faculty, which resides in a number of buildings in the centre of Amsterdam.

Additional information

Additional information about the vacancy may be obtained from:

Prof. Dr. Brian Burgoon
Website PETGOV
More information about employer University of Amsterdam (UvA) on AcademicTransfer.

Direct link to this job opening: www.academictransfer.com/16137

The enforcement of the established order

Guest post by Dr. Sinan Çankaya 

Police officers cannot tackle all crime, enforce all laws and stop all people. They have to make choices. During proactive policing so-called street cops make use of generalizations. This practice is ineffective and has a stigmatizing impact on ‘communities’.

Traditionally, the police organization functions as ‘fire fighters’: they react as quickly as possible to a fire, extinguish it and then wait for the next call. This type of officer is unfortunately always late. Since the eighties there is a development whereby the officer who is always late, wants to be early – in fact, the police officer is preferably at the occasion before the fire even ignites. The proactive police organization waits no longer for the reports of citizens, but attempts to prevent, disrupt and deter crime from happening.

The street cop as a “Where’s-Waldoseeker”

During proactive policing, officers use generalized images of potential suspects and work with a selection profile. Citizens who tend to the profile, are more inclined to be stopped and checked. I define this decision-making process with the notion where’s-Waldo-seekers. In my childhood I ‘read’ almost the entire series of Where’s Waldo? In this comic book for children, which has an A3-format, the reader is supposed to find Waldo. The drawings represent a variation of realistic scenes, but also imaginative worlds. However, the ‘description’ of Waldo remains unchanged: a white man with glasses and a cane, dark brown hair, blue jeans, brown shoes and a red and white striped sweater.

My argument is that the officer also searches for Waldo, who apparently looks a certain way. Here, Waldo symbolizes the archetypal and decontextualized images of a ‘criminal’. Consciously and unconsciously, street cops define civilians not only as suspicious because they have committed or are committing a criminal offense. Partly they judge their appearance – such as skin colour, age, gender, clothing and jewellery – in a positive or negative way. The judgments about the personal facades of civilians are not neutral with respect to class, ethnicity, age and gender. Some facades work to the disadvantage of civilians, while others form privileges. Yet the appearance is not necessarily the decisive factor in the daily decision making processes of police officers. For the same reason there is not just one Waldo, but there are several variables that constitute numerous Waldo’s.

Ethno-racial profiling

This selection process is partly consistent with what is described as racial and ethnic profiling. This method is problematic for several reasons. The first false assumption is that so-called ‘communities’ can be identified on the basis of biological, thus racial, characteristics. This is highly unworkable, because the physiological variations within ethnic categories are too large. Secondly, the reasoning jumps from individual offenders to ‘groups’. An overrepresentation of for example Moroccan-Dutch young men in specific offenses does not justify the association of the total population with that offense. Thirdly, the present practice can undermine the trust of ‘groups’ of citizens in the police organization. Fourthly, criminals who do not tend to the ‘picture’ of police officers can be overlooked. Bad policing in my opinion.

It is remarkable that the deleterious effects of the current practice are unconvincing in public opinion. The fact that innocent civilians are subjected to proactive checks is perceived as collateral damage. The most persistent objection is the over-representation of ethnic minorities in the visible forms of crime. In the same category, officers say: “What should we do? ID check grandmas?” But the current practice has little to do with robust intelligence-led policing. Instead of focusing on individual, specific and concrete delinquents and ‘suspicious behaviour’, it leads to (self)management at the level of risky profiles. In other words: social categorization, stereotyping, status and prestige are inextricably linked to proactive policing.

 From the officer as a ‘crime fighter’, to the officer as an ‘information broker’

Moreover, the proactive stops do not result in a significant number of arrests. The reason is that the stops rely on the intuitive and vague suspicions of the police officer. A ‘gut feeling’ as they will say. As a result, street cops usually have insufficient legal grounds for an arrest. The relative low numbers of arrests are in sharp contrast to how street officers justify selective attention to certain ethnic categories.

So what is it that cops do? The result of the proactive control is generally (a) a record in a police system and (b) the assumption that crime is prevented in the preliminary phase of its execution. When we look at the first ‘hit’, it becomes clear that Intelligence-led Policing (Informatiegestuurde Politie), an abstract policy concept of management cops, has seeped to the level of street cops. However, the formal and informal norm of “the more intelligence, the better” is at odds with the Police Data Act (Wet op de Politiegegevens, WPG). For much of the records the basis for processing data is general and unclear, and seems redundant and irrelevant. Besides, it is unclear how many records are actually used in concrete investigations.

This practice has a curious side effect. The choices of street cops in the present affect the focus areas in the future. Intelligence is also proactively acquired, created, edited and added. In addition, the supplemented intelligence focuses on the already defined ‘target groups’ and perpetuates these categories. The everyday decisions of street cops not only relate to stops and checks, but also to who is and is not recorded in police systems.

Preventive Policing = black box

When looking at the second ‘hit’: the effectiveness of preventive interventions are difficult to be determined. There is no actual crime in the present, but an imagined act in the future – that does not necessarily need to occur, even without the intervention of the police officer (see also Schinkel 2009). Preventive policing is basically a virtual business. Police officers avoid a hypothetical and a future scenario from taking place. At the same time, it is possible that street cops paradoxically prevent hypothetical criminal acts from happening.

Inclusive and exclusive function of the police organization

The labels and categorizations of street cops are not about hostilities towards certain social or ethnic groups. In my interpretation, ethnicity and social class are the criteria by which a given social order manifests itself. What matters are the underlying power relations in a society. All together, the enforcement of public order is accompanied by the consolidation of the boundaries between positively valued ‘normal’ groups and the groups ‘who do not belong’ to society.

Sinan Çankaya is a cultural anthropologist and researches the police organization and inclusion – and exclusion processes. This article is a snapshot of his latest publication (in Dutch) “The control of Martians and other scum: the decision making process during proactive policing”. Anyone interested can mail to info@boomlemma.nl

Literature:

Schinkel, W. (2009) ‘De nieuwe preventie: Actuariële archiefsystemen en de nieuwe technologie van de veiligheid’ Krisis (2): 1-21

Netherlands Institute for Human Rights

Since a few days, the Netherlands has a brand new College voor de Rechten van de Mens (National Institute for Human Rights). Why did we establish it? The Netherlands believes itself to be a country heavily committed to human rights, both nationally and internationally. When it “campaigned” for a seat in the UN Human Rights Council after the Council’s establishment in 2006, the Netherlands already pledged to establish a national human rights institute. It took some time, but now we have kept our word.

But keeping our promise is not the reason why the Institute was established, of course. The core mission of the Institute is to promote compliance with human rights within the territory of the Netherlands. The Institute will do so through a combination of advice, research and information. It will often remind the government of its responsibilities, because it is the government which is primarily responsible for the realization of human rights for all in the Netherlands. The Institute does not deal with individual human rights complaints. However, it does act as watchdog of the Dutch equal treatment legislation; in individual cases brought before it, it will decide whether someone has been discriminated against at work, at school as a consumer. It thus effectively takes over this task from the Dutch Equal Treatment Commission.

On 2 October 2012, Navanethem Pillay, herself the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, gave a speech on the occasion of the opening of the Netherlands Institute for Human Rights. According to Pillay, the new Institute should become “active in protecting marginalized individuals and groups by ensuring that principles of nondiscrimination and equality are incorporated into legislation, policies and practice.” Pillay also reminded everyone of the most persistent human rights problems in the Netherlands:

“Policies and programmes to combat all of forms of discrimination, racism and xenophobia, including those based on religion; efforts to advance the rights of immigrants and asylum seekers in the country, including in the area of justice and detention; and measures to eliminate violence against women and domestic violence.”

She was referring here to the debate between freedom of expression and respect for religious practices; the treatment of aliens in alien detention centres (much criticized by Amnesty International).

Nada v Switzerland: The ECtHR Does Not Pull a Kadi (But Mandates It for Domestic Law)

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By Tobias Thienel

This morning, 11 years and one day after 9/11, the European Court of Human Rights has delivered its judgment in Nada v Switzerland. The case concerned targeted sanctions by the UN Security Council, which had (until they were revised) prevented the applicant from leaving the small Italian town of Campione d’Italia. This was because the Security Council sanctions required states to prevent the applicant from crossing their borders, and Campione d’Italia is an Italian exclave within Swiss territory. Because the applicant thus could not enter Switzerland, he could not travel to any other part of Italy, either.

 

The judgment was eagerly awaited by human rights lawyers, and by those concerned with more general international law, as well. This was largely because the case raised the thorny question of whether the UN sanctions enjoyed precedence over the ECHR under Article 103 of the UN Charter. The Court had avoided this issue in the earlier case of Al-Jedda v United Kingdom, preferring there to read down the UN resolutions and thus remove the conflict by means of a harmonising interpretation. This was convincing, but wasn’t necessarily going to help in Nada, because the obligation not to allow Mr Nada to travel internationally was much more precise than was the alleged duty to detain Mr Al-Jedda. In fact, the Court in Nada has now recognised as much (para 172).

 

The Court could have done one of several things (see Marko Milanovic’s post at EJIL:Talk):

– It could nevertheless have ‘read down’ the UN obligations even in Mr Nada’s case. This might have involved a judicial extension of the very limited exceptions allowed in the sanctions regime. But this would have been exceedingly difficult.

– It could also have ‘read down’ the ECHR. This it could have done either by denying that the case came within Swiss ‘jurisdiction’ for the purposes of Article, because the matter was determined by the UN. However, the Bosphorus case, another case on the application of UN sanctions by a state, would probably have precluded this. Or the Court could have found Articles 5 and 8 inapplicable on the facts of the case (for the purposes of Article 13, this would have required even denying an ‘arguable case’ under Article 8, which was problematic).

– If the conflict thus could have been avoided from neither the one side nor the other, the Court could have gone along with the Government and the Swiss Federal Court in holding that UN law took precedence over the ECHR. This was unlikely as a matter of judicial policy.

– Instead, the Court could have been minded to follow the ECJ case of Kadi and Al Barakaat International Foundation v Council and Commission. There, the ECJ had declined to give precedence to UN law over the law of the EC/EU (which the Court of First Instance before it had done). The ECJ recast the relationship between EC/EU law and international law on a strict dualist model, thus subordinating the UN Charter to the law of the European Treaties, including fundamental rights law. The ECtHR was unlikely to do this, because the European Convention can by no stretch of the imagination be assimilated to a domestic system, separated from other international law by a dualists’ wall.

– The Court could also have followed the lead of the German Solange I case. This had held (until overtaken by Solange II) that for as long as (the German word ‘solange’ means ‘as long as’) the then EEC did not have a satisfactory body of human rights law, the German Federal Constitutional Court would exercise its competence to review EEC acts under the human rights provisions of the German Basic Law. (Solange II then reversed this position, holding that the German court would not exercise its competence for as long as the EEC retained its body of fundamental rights – which the ECJ had in the meantime created.)

 

In the event, the European Court did not take any of these positions (except, in part, the first). It is noteworthy, however, that Judge Malinverni (still sitting for Switzerland in this case, but no longer on the Court) advocated a Solange I solution in his Concurring Opinion.

Continue reading

Assisted Suicide, The Courts and the ECHR

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By Tobias Thienel

On 19 July 2012, the European Court of Human Rights gave judgment in the case of Koch v Germany. The case is notable for advancing the debate on a right of assisted suicide, without itself entering into the debate at all. It is also noteworthy for recognising that not only the person wishing to die, but also that person’s close relatives, have a legal interest in the matter.

 

The facts were – as so often in these cases –  tragic. The applicant’s wife had been suffering for some time from total sensorimotor quadriplegia, that is to say she was almost completely paralysed and utterly dependent on carers. She wished to commit suicide, and therefore contacted the relevant authorities for permission to obtain some pentobarbital of sodium (otherwise used for lethal injections in the United States). Her application was refused. She eventually committed suicide in Switzerland, where the law was more amenable to her wishes.

 

Her husband attempted to continue the legal proceedings begun by his wife (and himself). His case was ruled inadmissible at all levels, including by the Federal Constitutional Court (Case No. 1 BvR 1832/07). (Only the court at first instance added, obiter, that the husband would also have failed on the merits, the withholding of the poison having been lawful.) The courts found that the surviving husband could not rely on any rights formerly enjoyed by his late wife. In particular, his rights under the constitutional protection of marriage (Article 6(1) of the Basic Law) did not bestow standing on him to raise the issue whether his wife should have been given the right to obtain the medication to end her life.

 

The European Court of Human Rights disagreed, at least in the result. It joined the analysis of the German courts in holding that the applicant could not rely on his late wife’s rights under the ECHR as such. However, it found the applicant’s own rights under Article 8 ECHR to be engaged. He had been married to his wife for 25 years and had felt for her during her quest to end her life. Accordingly, on account of ‘the exceptionally close relationship between the
applicant and his late wife and his immediate involvement in the
realisation of her wish to end her life
‘, the Court held that the applicant himself had been directly affected by the decision regarding his wife’s access to lethal drugs (para 50).

Continue reading

Esther Kiobel, the Royal Dutch Petroleum Company, and the right to freely dispose of natural wealth and resources

The case between Esther Kiobel and the Royal Dutch Petroleum Company was set for re-argument in the United States Supreme Court on Monday, October 1, 2012. If I understood it correctly, one of the two questions posed to the Court is the following:

Are foreign corporations immune from tort liability in the US courts for violations of international law committed abroad?

The US has little to do with the case, and thus it could be argued that the case should really be decided in Nigeria, where the alleged violations took place. In any case, the case will likely be about jurisdictional issues, especially universal jurisdiction. Plenty of bloggers will comment on this aspect of the case.

But what if the case actually reaches the merits? What type of disputes could then make their way to the US courts? The Oil Company’s liability will be based on particular acts, not the general scheme of things. Nonetheless, it might be interesting – even though the case will probably not deal with this explicitly – to look at fundamental underlying issues.

The case has a lot to do with the people’s right to exploit their natural resources for their own benefit. The question is whether it is up to a State – read: government – to decide what is to the benefit of the people, or whether the people, including minority peoples, have a right to be involved in such decision-making. The question is relevant because the government of Nigeria does appear to benefit from its contract with the Oil Company, but minority peoples clearly do not.

The General Assembly of the United Nations has often emphasized the right of peoples to exploit their own resources according to their own policies. In the beginning, these debates took place in the context of decolonization. In the Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples, for example, the Assembly

affirm[ed] that peoples may, for their own ends, freely dispose of their natural wealth and resources without prejudice to any obligations arising out of international economic co-operation, based upon the principle of mutual benefit, and international law.[1]

This right was formulated in a general sense, but the fact that it was included in the Decolonization Declaration made it especially – and perhaps even exclusively – applicable to colonial peoples. In 1967, the Assembly ‘reaffirm[ed] the inalienable right of the peoples of the colonial territories to self-determination and independence and to the natural resources of their territories, as well as their right to dispose of these resources in their best interests.’[2] It further ‘deplore[d] the policies of the colonial Powers which permit[ted] the exploitation of the natural resources of the Territories under their administration contrary to the interests of the indigenous population.’[3] It thus called upon all ‘colonial Powers’ to prohibit in particular the following practices:

The exploitation of human and natural resources contrary to the interests of the indigenous inhabitants;

The obstruction of the access of the indigenous inhabitants to their natural resources;

The promotion and tolerance of injustice and discrimination in the remuneration of labor and in the establishment of working conditions.[4]

It further ‘request[ed] the colonial Powers to stop immediately the practice of alienation of lands from the indigenous inhabitants and to take immediate action to return to them all such alienated lands.’[5] In 1980, all States were encouraged to ‘ensure that the permanent sovereignty of the countries and Territories under colonial, racist and alien domination over their natural resources shall be fully respected and safeguarded.’[6] In 1981, the Assembly stressed that ‘by their depletive exploitation of natural resources, the continued accumulation and repatriation of huge profits and the use of those profits for the enrichment of foreign settlers and the entrenchment of colonial domination over the Territories, the activities of foreign economic, financial and other interests operating at present in the colonial Territories […] constitute[d] a major obstacle to political independence and to the enjoyment of the natural resources of those Territories by the indigenous inhabitants.’[7] A few years later, the Assembly became ‘increasingly aware of the importance of economic, social and cultural development and self-reliance of colonial countries and peoples for the attainment and consolidation of genuine independence.’[8]

As time passed, the Assembly, instead of simply condemning exploitation of natural resources by foreign subjects, also began to stress the usefulness of international assistance and cooperation. For example, in 1996, the Assembly ‘affirm[ed] the value of foreign economic investment undertaken in collaboration with the people of the Non-Self-Governing Territories and in accordance with their wishes in order to make a valid contribution to the socio-economic development of the Territories.’[9] The difference between exploitation and the latter type of economic foreign investment is obvious. Clearly, exploitation was prohibited, but voluntary and mutually beneficial investment was welcomed.

The Assembly refers frequently to the indigenous population. But the question remains whether we are talking about a right belonging to peoples, or a right belonging to newly independent States. In the Human Rights Covenants, there is a relevant provision which proclaims that:

All peoples may, for their own ends, freely dispose of their natural wealth and resources without prejudice to any obligations arising out of international economic co-operation, based upon the principle of mutual benefit, and international law. In no case may a people be deprived of its own means of subsistence.[10]

If the right mentioned above is truly a peoples’ right, then it ‘presumably limits the power of the national government freely to dispose of the natural resources […] without the consent (or against the wishes or contrary to the interests) of the “people”.’[11] If a government does not exploit the resources for the benefit of its own people, what should be done? Should the government be removed from power and be replaced by a government that does distribute the resources evenly over the population? If we pursue this reasoning to its very end, then, as Dam-de Jong pointed out, ‘the State, represented by its government, may only exercise the right to permanent sovereignty on behalf of its population [and must] be regarded as a trustee and not as holder of the right.’[12] And, presumably, trustees can be fired if they fail to do a good job. But instead of targeting the governments, in cases such as the Kiobel case, the multinational corporations are targeted.

In any case, it is not so clear whether the provision in the human rights covenant really intended to grant a right to peoples as opposed to States. Only a few years after the drafting of the human rights covenant provision was finished, in 1962, the Assembly adopted its resolution on permanent sovereignty over natural resources.[13] In that resolution, the Assembly proclaimed that

the right of peoples and nations to permanent sovereignty over their natural wealth and resources must be exercised in the interest of their national development and of the well-being of the people of the State concerned.[14]

The resolution stated this as a general principle, and did not explain what the consequences would be in case a local Government exploited the State’s natural resources for the benefit of a small group of individuals, as opposed to all the State’s inhabitants. In fact, the resolution’s prime aim was to emphasize the right of States over their own natural resources, and not to pose conditions on such
exclusive ownership.

[1] Preamble, Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples.

[2] Para. 2 of the resolution with perhaps the longest name in the Assembly’s history: Activities of foreign economic and other interests which are impeding the implementation of the Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples in Southern Rhodesia, South West Africa and Territories under Portuguese domination and efforts to eliminate colonialism, apartheid and racial discrimination in southern Africa, General Assembly resolution 2288 (XXII), adopted 7 December 1967.

[3] Idem, para. 5.

[4] Idem, para. 7.

[5] Idem, para. 10.

[6] Para. 7, Plan of Action for the Full Implementation of the Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples, General Assembly resolution 35/118, adopted 11 December 1980.

[7] Para. 1, Activities of foreign economic and other interests which are impeding the implementation of the Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples in Namibia and in all other territories under colonial domination and efforts to eliminate colonialism, apartheid and racial discrimination in southern Africa, General Assembly resolution 36/51, adopted 24 November 1981.

[8] Preamble, Twenty-fifth anniversary of the Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples.

[9] Para. 2, Activities of foreign economic and other interests which impede the implementation of the Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples in Territories under colonial domination, General Assembly resolution 51/140, adopted 13 December 1996. Most of the resolution dealt with foreign exploitation.

[10] Article 1(2), International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights.

[11] Crawford, ‘The rights of peoples,’ p. 64.

[12] P. 34, Dam-de Jong, ‘International Law and Resource Plunder.’

[13] Declaration on Permanent Sovereignty over Natural Resources, GA resolution 1803(XVII), adopted 14 December 1962.

[14] Para. 1, Declaration on Permanent Sovereignty over Natural Resources.

News on the Act of State Doctrine

pic Royal Courts of Justice.JPG

By Tobias Thienel

 

A recent case in the English courts – until now the High Court and the Court of Appeal – has raised absolutely central points about the act of state doctrine, and in so doing has neatly explained the doctrine. (I know this doctrine is not actually a rule of international law, but it is not unrelated.)

 

The case is interesting also at a political level. The names of the parties are telling: Yukos Capital Sarl v OJSC Rosneft Oil Company [2012] EWCA Civ 855. Yukos famously used to be the company of Mikhail Khodorkovsky, the businessman and billionaire who has fallen foul of the Kremlin and has spent the last few years in prison. His company, too, has been largely broken up and rid of its assets. The respondent in the English proceedings, on the other hand, Rosneft, is a Russian state-controlled company.

 

Yukos Capital Sarl had won an arbitral award against Rosneft. This had later been annulled in Russian state court proceedings. However, a court in the Netherlands (the Gerechtshof Amsterdam at second instance) later still recognised the arbitral award and declined to recognise the judgment annulling it. The court held that the Russian court had not been impartial and independent owing to the strong political elements of the case (Decision of 28 April 2009, Case No. 200.005.269/01, available via http://zoeken.rechtspraak.nl/default.aspx).

 

The case then moved to England. As in the Netherlands, Yukos sought recognition and enforcement of the award in its favour. Also as in Amsterdam, Yukos argued that the Russian annulment should be refused recognition because it had constituted ‘a travesty of justice’.

 

Rosneft resisted this argument on the basis of the English act of state doctrine. This doctrine holds,in the broadest outline, that English (like U.S.) courts ‘will not sit in judgment on the acts of the government of another done within its own territory‘ (Underhill v Hernandez, 168 U.S. 250, 252 (1897)) or ‘will not adjudicate upon the transactions of foreign sovereign states‘ (Buttes Gas Oil Co v Hammer (No 3) [1982] AC 888, 931G). On this basis, Rosneft said that the decision of the Russian courts, as a sovereign act, could not be questioned in an English court.

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Houla: The Next Srebrenica?

In the reporting of the massacres in Houla in Syria, it has been alleged that civlians called the UN mission, located only kilometres away, to notify them of the massacres occurring at that time. The massacres occurred during the night, and in the two days either side of the night, the UN had come to Houla. Houla civilians are thus questioning why the mission did not come to help them- a cry that echoes of Srebrenica. However, what it is important to note is that the mission in Syria is a Supervision Mission. Its mandate is extremely limited. The mission is to monitor the cessation of armed violence through up to 300 UNARMED military observers and an appropriate civilian component (SC Res 2043, 21 April 2012). As of 30 May, the mission has 297 unarmed military observers, 71 international civilian staff, and 14 local civilian staff. This is not a contingent with capabilities to stop armed military or militia assaults. While the mandate itself may be questioned or criticised for not being robust enough, the contingent as it exists, as it is resourced, and as it is tasked, should not be criticised for stopping armed attacks and assaults. Thus it is quite different to the situation in Srebrenica, where the mission had a much more robust mandate. Therefore, while it is still astounding that the Syrian government would engage in massacres with UN observers so close by, it is vital the media does not run with the tag line that the Supervision Mission personnel should have stopped the massacres.