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viernes, 13 de noviembre de 2009

Due Process in the Context of Transitional Justice

Transitional justice has only recently become a field of its own. Despite the novice character of the field, it has expanded in an increasingly larger area in which a plurality of actors is in constant participation. In the same vein, transitional justice comprises an intricacy of elements that are closely intertwined: political, societal and legal. To analyze them in their entirety would be a herculean task that would go beyond the purpose of this essay. The purpose is to inquire in a specific facet within the normative framework and which reverberates across the aims of transitional justice. The right to due process is a central tenet of the rule of law and of any Western democracy, in particular of the liberal character. Its importance is evidenced by the fact that it is enshrined by the most relevant human rights treaties including the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCP) specifically in its Article 14, among others. Nonetheless, it is posited that in times of transitional justice the right to due process must be interpreted according to the exceptional circumstances in which the trial is being carried out. The burden that complying carries regularly with the requisites of due process during ordinary times can, rightly so, impair a correct healing of a given society under a period of transitional justice. Thus, a plausible response to the dilemmas posed by that is to establish a lower threshold or the employ of alternate methods. Part I roughly analyzes the concept of transitional justice. For a correct understanding of the conditions surrounding the right to due process, it is essential to put in proper context what constitutes transitional justice and its objectives. Part II consists of two sections, a first one dedicated to developing a brief overview of the rule of law and the second one drawing the contours of the right to due process. Part III studies the problems with the right to due process related to a transitional justice background. Part IV is none other than the conclusion.

I. What ‘transitional’? What ‘justice’?

The fact that transitional justice is constantly evolving as a maturing field – and as a buzzword – does not exactly spell out to what it is referring to. The notion of transitional evokes a movement from one state to the other. But at the same time it conveys the assumption that a society is stalled in a particular moment and now is moving elsewhere. This is misleading. Several scholars have pointed out the deceptiveness of such thoughts. Any society is in continuous transformation, it is in transitional condition as it never stays the same[1]. It is irrelevant if these changes are for better or for worse, the fact is that no society is frozen within a certain setting. Hence the lack of clarity to what the transitional is related to.

The concept of justice equally suffers of an even bigger definitional problematic. It is one of the main philosophical and moral ideas of humankind and for that reason there have been bitter arguments over its content and delimitations.

Nonetheless, taken together transitional justice has an explicit content and it is circumscribed to a certain state of affairs. Transitional refers only to those societies changing to a liberal democracy direction after a period of authoritarianism. Justice has too specific a meaning. The UN contributes a concept of justice closely connected to the abovementioned definition of transitional justice. For the Organization, justice is

an ideal of accountability and fairness in the protection and vindication of rights and the prevention and punishment of wrongs. Justice implies regard for the rights of the accused, for the interests of victims and for the well-being of society at large. It is a concept rooted in all national cultures and traditions and, while its administration usually implies formal judicial mechanisms, traditional dispute resolution mechanisms are equally relevant[2].

Then, transitional justice can be defined as “a response to systematic or widespread violations of human rights. It seeks recognition for victims and to promote possibilities for peace, reconciliation and democracy. Transitional justice is not a special form of justice but justice adapted to societies transforming themselves after a period of pervasive human rights abuse”[3].

What is occasionally omitted by certain authors is a description of the surroundings on which transitional justice happens, details that influence the possibilities of a successful process. These countries do not only come from a situation of moral bankruptcy and more often than not with the large shadow of the former regime hovering above them but also from a dire economic situation: rampant corruption, lack of resources, shabby infrastructure, and so forth. All these make the process harder as hard choices have to be made that can hamper the purposes of transitional justice[4]. Similarly, these purposes encompass “a multitude of discrete, though overlapping, and often conflicting themes”[5]. Clark has at least found six objectives; all of them interrelated to greater or lesser extent: reconciliation, peace, justice, healing, forgiveness and truth[6]. It is beyond this essay to divulge them but it is worth indicating that the right to due process for those people in charge of or responsible for gross violations of human rights have an effect on all of them. They are intertwined. There is no peace if there is no justice and justice is necessary for achieving the truth and subsequently to heal the wounds so there can be forgiveness and reconciliation. Before delving into the right to due process, it requires a step back. One central aspiration of transitional justice is to restore the rule of law. And because due process is subsumed in the rule of law, it is a precondition to analyze it before delving into due process.

II. The rule of law and its meaning in regards with the right to due process.

The rule of law is surrounded by the same uncertainties concerning transitional justice. Whereas transitional justice is at least confined to a particular situation in order to give it a workable meaning, the rule of law has varied faces and at the same time the existing different legal traditions put the accent over one trait upon another. In this regards, it is worth noting that many authors have done the enormous task of coming with a definition and with an explanation on what it consist of. Unfortunately, this would go well beyond this essay. However, despite the enormity of the rule of law, it is possible to locate certain characteristics that shed light over its importance and how crucial it is for countries that just came out from a long history of abuses to have it.

What underpins the rule of law is the idea of limitation. The rule of law came into being predominantly during the advent of liberal democracies during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. It is a barrier against untamed power. Under its premise, society must be a rule-governed enterprise. Power ought to be channelled through rules and norms. There cannot be arbitrariness or abuse of power. Thus, it has a positive and negative mandate. It establishes how a government must exercise its authority; how it should restrain its dominance through predictability and certainty. At the very same time, as a corollary of the concept, it promotes certain rights indispensable for a correct functioning under the rule of law.

Among those rights benefitting individuals, it comprises the right to a due process. It is not included in the basic core of human rights, but it illustrates splendidly how the rule of law operates. Due process is simultaneously a limit to power and a guarantee for the individual. For practical reasons of time and space, the right to due process used in this essay is taken from the Spanish Constitution. The choice of this text is due to the fact that its redaction was heavily influenced by the several human rights covenants existing at the moment of its enactment. Article 24.2 asserts that anyone has the right to a judge predetermined by law, the defence and assistance by a lawyer, to be informed of any charge against him, to a public process without unlawful delay and with all guarantees, to use any piece of evidence necessary for the defence, to not declare against oneself, to not confess guilt and to be innocent until proven guilty. The scope of the entitlement plainly reduces the government’s space in manoeuvring, and imposes a pro-active duty to demonstrate that someone is guilty. Consequently, “due process is designed in part to protect the innocent from punishment and prevent excessive punishment of the less guilty. But due process is also what gives legitimacy to trials and convictions”[7]. Under normal circumstances of a democracy running its usual course, due process reflects the respect for human rights and of a functioning democracy. It is true that it makes it harder to punish a criminal but it similarly permits the innocent to present their case fairly and to avoid an unwarranted sentence. Unfortunately, this presupposes a stringent and expanded interpretation of due process, something that can oddly enough affect negatively a society in transitional justice phase.

III. The conflictive nature of due process when applied during transitional justice.

Transitional justice refers to an extraordinary moment of any given society. This exceptionality is derived from the circumstance that the society is attempting to cut ties with the former regime so it can begin with a new liberal democratic society. It is backward-looking and forward-looking at the same time. It is a paradoxical situation where institutions are set up but are concurrently in a sui generis status. Take for instance the use of legal instruments which are according to Teitel

between the past and the future…between retrospective and prospective. Transitions imply paradigm shifts in the conception of justice; thus, law’s function is inherently paradoxical. In its ordinary social function, law provides order and stability, but in extraordinary periods of political upheaval, law maintains order, even as it enables transformation[8].

However transformative legal instruments can be, not all are equally effective. Part of them can obstruct the restorative process. This inadequacy stems from the uniqueness of the period encompassing transitional justice. During this process a society is not only recovering from ordinary crimes, but from exceptional crimes as well. In the former state of affairs, a society was massively affected by gross violations of human rights. The state is frequently the main culprit as those committing and planning the wrongdoings are part of or are aided by the state. It could be a whole society – e.g. the Nazi Germany against the Jews – or one part of the society against other – e.g. Rwanda – or perhaps the suffering was inflicted mainly upon a minority – e.g. Muslims in Bosnia. What characterizes this situation is the active participation of a great segment of the fabric of the society in continuously abusing a relevant portion of the population. An involvement of this magnitude supersedes those legal responses that underline the rule of law in ordinary times. Equally, the other outcome is the presence of a whole social stratus being affected by the perpetrators. A massive crime generates massive suffering. It comes to no surprise that those who have endured exceptional pain (morally and physically) demand recognition of their suffering during transitional period: an acknowledgement of the negative experiences that disturbed their social condition during the former regime, as individuals but also as a collective[9]. Here enter the demands of justice. If there is no treatment of the gross violations committed during the former regime, there is no chance of reconciliation and the chance of moving forward because the wounds of the past haunt them. The exceptionality of the situation creates a requirement of a contextual justice especially elaborated during the transitional period. “What is deemed just is contingent and informed by prior injustice… legacies of injustice have a bearing on what is deemed transformative”[10]. In this context, the concept of justice shoulders a great importance because it directly leads to dealing with past injustices. As Stahn asserts, there is an intimate relationship between “restoration of justice and security in post-conflict situations”[11]. A failure in bridging the past atrocities with the establishment of a healthy society can lead to the reversal of the transitional justice, but by another collective. To bring justice is to choose one model depending on how backward or forward-looking it is: retributive, deterrent and restorative[12]. Irrespective to which model one leans to, there is a common attribute: prosecution of the perpetrators; normally through trials. And that is where due process comes into action. While it is true that there are other means of punishment, it has generally been understood as a necessary element of any transitional justice to process the prosecution of those responsible for egregious violation of human rights[13] bearing in mind the impact of an existing possibility of duty under international law to prosecute[14].

To begin with, prosecution of criminals through criminal law entails the assumption of individual, criminal liability. This is problematic. Under due process, anyone accused of wrongdoing must be proven guilty beyond certainty. That imposes an extra burden for instance in cases where the prosecuted formed part of the machinery of the state where the responsibility can be diluted except in case of top leadership. To punish them according to a strict understanding of due process could be equated to punishing under criminal law for political liability, eventually challenging the rule of law[15]. Equally, the evidences enough for proving an accused guilty are stringent. A lack of sufficient evidence along with the high threshold of the evidentiary requirements “of due process may make it not only generally more difficult to convict, but also particularly difficult to convict those who are most culpable”[16] because they were in a position to take advantage of the resources available, they could get rid of the evidences and because of their political position. By the same token, to make a veritable case against the perpetrator and demonstrating that he was guilty in taking part of the crime beyond reasonable doubt, is expensive[17]. Each trial requires time and resources to convincingly attribute the offence to someone that can be quite an issue in underdeveloped countries that are forced to spend their scarce resources on the trial of criminals while the victims of the atrocities are victimized for a second time as their basic needs are not fulfilled. Even more damaging, the scarceness of resources together with the lack of evidences and the requirements of due process force the prosecutors to be selective in their efforts. The mass character of the crimes does not help either. This puts the prosecutors in the dilemma against whom to press charges. The upshot is twofold: on the one hand, not all victims will be satisfied as not everyone who tortured, raped or murdered will be judged. On the other hand, the most culpable will not be targeted because those lower-level offenders are easier to prosecute under due process requisites[18]. In a similar stance, Kritz adds the political prism as he writes that “prosecution of every single participant in the planning, ordering or implementation of the atrocities in question – not to mention all those who collaborated with them – would be politically destabilizing, socially divisive, and logistically and economically untenable”[19]. The phenomena of “limited criminal sanction” come then to no surprise. This concept is espoused by Teitel, to whom this

constitutes compromised prosecution processes that do not necessarily culminate in full punishment…Depending on just how limited the process, investigations may or may not lead to indictments, adjudication, and conviction. Convictions are often followed by little or no punishment. In transition, the criminal sanction may be limited to an investigation establishing wrongdoing[20].

She ascribes this situation to the difficulties in subsuming systemic wrongdoings during the former regime in individual criminal liability. In other words, that the limited criminal liability is based on a thorough understanding of the complexities of crimes of a mass scale[21]. Although it is a valid assertion, the influence of due process in conjunction with the dire economic situation of a country in transitional justice also cannot be discarded.

Another inconvenience is the search of truth of past egregious violations. A trial’s primary role is in elucidating the defendant’s guilt. This is a direct consequence of due process demands of knowing under what charges one is being prosecuted. This restricts the story to the specific accusation brought up by the prosecutor. Truth then becomes a legal truth which covers only a small proportion of the narrative. Evidences that would aid in construing the story of past abuses are not deemed relevant if they are not related to the charges. They are discarded and not included in the discourse. Needless to say, this affects the victims as there is no space for expressing the abuses committed to them.

Last but not least, the turn to a legal response for former abuses has the drawback of the accused taking advantage of the process, and subverting further the right to due process[22].

IV. Conclusion

This essay noticeably exhibits the inconveniences of using a guarantee designed for ordinary times and essential in democracy as due process in extraordinary times and its inadequacy when coping with mass crimes where the state as a whole or a relevant part of the community has participated in their commission. If prosecution remains as one of the primary tools as a response in transitional justice, it is advocated a sui generis reading of due process. This is not tantamount to a complete disrespect of the human right, but an attempt to take victims into consideration. Based on Teitel’s, it is submitted that this distinctive reading does not endanger the foundations of the newly liberal democracy because, as its name suggests, transitional justice refers to a specific moment. A community is trapped between two regimes, thus the transitional period is by definition limited, which gives rise to a contextual notion of justice based on past grievances but with the purpose of remedying the victims[23].



[1] M. Freeman and D. Djuckic, “Just Post Bellum and Transitional Justice” in C. Stahn & J.K. Kleffner (eds.), Just Post Bellum – Towards a Law of Transition from Conflict to Peace 213, 214 (2008).

[2] UN Doc. S/2004/616, The Rule of Law and Transitional Justice in Conflict and Post-Conflict Societies, Report of the Secretary General, 4 (2004).

[3] Definition given by the International Center for Transitional Justice. Available at http://www.ictj.org/en/tj/ (last time checked on 20th October 2009).

[4] See S.W. Daniel Han, “Transitional Justice: When Justice Strikes Back-Case Studies of Delayed Justice in Argentina and South Korea”, 30 Hous. J. Int’l L. 653, who argues in favour of delayed transitional justice, giving priority first for the economic development of the country.

[5] P. Clark, “Establishing a Conceptual Framework: Six Keys Transitional Justice Themes” in P. Clark and Z.D. Kaufman (eds.), After Genocide – Transitional Justice, Post-Conflict Reconstruction and Reconciliation in Rwanda and Beyond 191, 191 (2008).

[6] Id., 195-204.

[7] M.J. Aukerman, “Extraordinary Evil, Ordinary Crime: A Framework for Understanding Transitional Justice”, 15 Harv. Hum. Rts. J. 39, 49 (2002).

[8] R. Teitel, “Transitional Jurisprudence: The Role of Law in Political Transformation”, 106 Yale L.J. 2009, 2014 (1996-1997).

[9] F. Hadelmann, “Another Kind of Justice: Transitional Justice as Recognition”, 41 Cornell Int’l L.J. 675, 678-680 (2008).

[10] Teitel, op. cit., 2014.

[11] C. Stahn, “Justice Under Transitional Administration: Contours and Critique of a Paradigm”, 27 Hous. J. Int’l L. 311, 315 (2004-2005).

[12] See Clark, op. cit., 197-198.

[13] See R. Teitel, “Transitional Justice Genealogy”, 16 Harv. Hum. Rts. J. 69, 72-74 (2003).

[14] See D.F. Orentlicher, “Settling Accounts: The Duty to Prosecute Human Rights Violations of a Prior Regime”, 100 Yale L.J. 2537 (1990-1991).

[15] Teitel, op. cit., 2038.

[16] Aukerman, op. cit., 51.

[17] Id. 52.

[18] Id. 61.

[19] N.J. Kritz, “Coming to Terms with Atrocities: A Review of Accountability for Mass Violations of Human Rights”, 59 L.& Cont. Prob. 127, 138-139 (1996).

[20] R. Teitel, “Transitional Rule of Law” in A. Czarnota, M. Krygier and W. Sadurski (eds.), Rethinking the Rule of Law after Communism 279, 281 (2005).

[21] Id. 282-283.

[22] Teitel, op. cit., 848.

[23] Teitel, op. cit., 2013-2014, 2019-2020.

jueves, 9 de abril de 2009

The ICJ advisory jurisdiction: the "wall" case

 

The advisory jurisdiction is different from the contentious. The most relevant difference is that the Court – any - does not have to solve a problem between two parties. It has to give on opinion about a question. Nonetheless, it has been an option which has had more success in the international legal order.  The application of the advisory function has encountered more problems in the national sphere, the own nature of what is the function of the courts has impede its proper implementation[1]. But a reflection of those difficulties can be traced back in the ICJ. Despite using the advisory function, the Court has used the procedure rules of the contentious process, maintaining the jurisdictional nature of the Tribunal[2]. This can be showed in article 68 of the Court’s statute:

“In the exercise of its advisory functions the Court shall further be guided by the provisions of the present Statute which apply in contentious cases to the extent to which it recognizes them to be applicable”.

But the own particularity of the international legal framework has allowed its development and, because of the Court, it has had an important impact. This is done in a two-step process. The first thing judges have to see is if they have jurisdiction for hearing the case and then, if that is the case, they have to analyze if there are not compelling reasons to not giving the opinion.

The two relevant articles are article 96 of the UN Charter, which allows the General Assembly or the Security Council to request an advisory opinion on any legal question, and to other organs of UN and specialized agencies only if this arise within the scope of their activities, and article 65.1 of the Statute which says that the Court may give an advisory opinion on any legal question.

The purpose of this assignment is to analyze the application of that jurisdiction, paying more attention to the legal nature of the question, in respect with the Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory[3] case.

 

2. JURISDICTION

 

In order to give an opinion the Court has to see if there is jurisdiction. There are two requisites: rationae personae, that is, that the organ who requested the opinion was competent to do so and rationae materiae, which means that the judicial organ can only answer those questions of legal character[4].

 

2.1. Rationae Personae

 

The General Assembly, which was the organ who requested the advisory opinion of the Court in Resolution ES-10/13, had the competence to ask for an opinion in the Wall case. As the ICJ stated in the Legality of the Threat or Use Nuclear Weapons case “the General Assembly has competence in any event to seize the Court. Indeed, Article 10 of the Charter has conferred upon the General Assembly a competence relating to ‘any questions or any matters’ within the scope of the Charter”[5]. The Court would repeat the same in the Wall case, namely, that the construction of the wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory was considered a threat to international peace and security, which is part of the General Assembly’s functions according to article 11 of the Charter[6]. The Court also concluded, despite the contentions, that it did not exceed its competence because of requiring an opinion and in spite of the fact that the Security Council was also treating the issue[7].

 

2.2. Rationae Materiae

 

Maybe the organ who submitted the question had the competence to do so, but the Court can only answer legal questions otherwise it will not have jurisdiction. It was expressly stated in Certain Expenses case that if “a question is not a legal one, the Court has no discretion in the matter; it must decline to give the opinion requested”[8]. But the terms alone does not help to comprehend what is a legal question. According to Visscher is about any problem susceptible of receive an answer based in law[9], but let’s observe how the Court has treated the matter and in the Wall case.

 

2.2.1 Any legal question?

 

The Court will answer any legal question within the realm of International Law. That is a limitation in accordance with the limits of the system[10].

 

2.2.2 Only Law?

 

As we can observe, the expression any legal question can be interpreted in the sense that excludes any legal question entangled with facts. The problem was solved in the Namibia case. The Court established that “the contingency that there may be factual issues underlying the question posed does not alter its character as a ‘legal question’”[11]. So there is no need for a pure legal one[12].

 

2.2.3 The Abstract Nature of the Question

 

Due to the different nature of the advisory procedure, the Court has answered any type of question it did not matter if it was an abstract one or related to a factual situation[13]. This was one of the issues raised by Israel objecting the Court’s jurisdiction, which rejected it stating its own jurisprudence. The Court said that “to contend that it should not deal with a question couched in abstract terms is a ‘mere affirmation devoid of any justification’ and that ‘the Court may give an advisory opinion on any legal question, abstract or otherwise’”[14].

 

2.2.4 A Political Question

 

Another recurrent argument used by States against the Court’s jurisdiction is that the question posed is political, not a legal one and, therefore, the Court cannot treat it. As a jurisdictional organ and according to its statute can only solve those problems limited in the legal sphere. However, the Court has never rejected a request on these grounds. Quite the contrary, it expressed that “as, in the nature of things, is the case with so many questions which arise in international life, does not suffice to deprive it of its character as a ‘legal question’ and to ‘deprive the Court of a competence expressly conferred on it by its Statute’”[15]. “Whatever its political aspects, the Court cannot refuse to admit the legal character of a question which invites it to discharge an essentially judicial task (…) an assessment of the legality of the possible conduct of States with regard to the obligations imposed upon them by International Law”[16]. This would be the constant attitude of the Court about these allegations, including in the Wall.

We can say then that the Court “regards all questions submitted to it as ‘legal’ regardless of their political implications as long as the requested question can be answered by the application of legal rules”[17].

 

2.2.5 The Clarity of the Question

 

Another requirement about the legal question is that it has to be drafted with enough clarity. Article 65.2 of the Statute clearly states that the written request must contain an exact statement (en términos precisos in spanish) of the question. That is why one of the reasons laid down against the jurisdiction of the Court was as regards the lack of clarity thereof. Despite that the Court rejected the argument[18]. It has been a normal pattern of the jurisdictional organ to reformulate or to ascertain the relevant legal question. Despite the request being, in Judge Kooijmans’ words, “phrased in a way which can be called odd, to put it mildly”[19] there was no reason to dismiss the request in these grounds.

 

We can observe, therefore, that the Court applied correctly the requirements for having jurisdiction. The arguments against it were not strong enough in the light of the previous jurisprudence.

 

3. PROPRIETY REASONS

 

In the Court’s own words:

“When seized of a request for an advisory opinion, the Court must first consider whether it has jurisdiction to give the opinion requested and whether, should the answer be affirmative, there is any reason why it should decline to exercise any such jurisdiction”[20].

That means that after analyzing its own jurisdiction the Court maybe has found that it has it, but that does not mean that there will be automatically a discussion of the request. As article 65.1 points out, the Court may give an opinion, so it leaves up to the organ whether to render a decision or not. Since saying in 1950, in the Interpretation of Peace Treaties with Bulgaria, Hungary and Romania, that “Article 65.2 of the Statute is permissive. It gives the Court the power to examine whether the circumstances of the case are of such character as should lead it to decline to answer the request”[21], the Court has maintained the same approach.

As a result, the Court has argued that, because of its “responsibilities as the principal judicial organ of the United Nations (Article 92 of the Charter), the Court should in principle not decline to give an advisory opinion. Only due to compelling reasons could the Court disregard a request[22]. More difficult is to ascertain what those reasons are by which the Court would decide not to render an opinion because until now it has never rejected one. That has not stopped the Court to explain when would that occurred and to States to convince the jurisdictional organ not to continue.

 

3.1 The consent of the parties with regards to an advisory opinion related with the controversy

 

In order to explain it is unavoidable to refer to the Eastern Carelia case, where the PCIJ refused to give an advisory opinion. The relevant paragraph is the following:

“It is well established in international law that no State can, without its consent, be compelled to submit its disputes with other States to submit its disputes with other States either to mediation or to arbitration, or to any other kind of pacific settlement”[23].

States have relied on that paragraph in order to avoid an opinion of the Courts for matter related to disputes between States. The clearest example is the Western Sahara case, and similar to the Wall case. Spain argued that because the Court would give its opinion about an issue that was contentious between Morocco, Mauritania and Spanish itself and because it did not consent to the Court hearing the case. The ICJ would reject the argument stating, quoting the Peace Treaties case that:

“The consent of States, parties to a dispute, is the basis of the Court's jurisdiction in contentious cases. The situation is different in regard to advisory proceedings even where the Request for an Opinion relates to a legal question actually pending between States. The Court's reply is only of an advisory character: as such, it has no binding force. It follows that no State, whether a Member of the United Nations or not, can prevent the giving of an Advisory Opinion which the United Nations considers to be desirable in order to obtain enlightenment as to the course of action it should take. The Court's Opinion is given not to the States, but to the organ which is entitled to request it”[24].

And that the lack of consent could in some circumstances “constitute a ground for declining to give the opinion requested if, in the circumstances of a given case, considerations of judicial propriety should oblige the Court to refuse an opinion”, especially when the effect would be the circumventing of the consent of the State[25].

Based on that, the Court would reject Israel’s contention, considering that the judicial organ should assistance the General Assembly and that it was not circumventing Israel’s consent. But we could add that here the problem was also that the issue was not between two States, because Palestine is still not one, and therefore not a subject of International Law which would mean that there is a contentious issue as such, due to Palestine’s lack of subjectivity[26].

 

3.2 Lack of Information

 

In this case, the Court might not render an opinion because of the lack of information, which would impede to have all the facts and thus would lead to an invalid decision. This requirement is a subjective one; there is no standard definition that can help to dilucidate if there is enough information. Moreover, this has to be linked with the principle of equality. Because if all parties are not hear that would mean that the Court would only decide by the facts and arguments presented by one party.

This was an important factor in the Wall case. Israel, due to its refusal to collaborate, did not participate in the merits of the case. That is why it was argued that the Court should not continue, it would not have listened to all the parties. As with many other issues raised against the proceedings, the Court rejected it. It considered that it had enough information[27]. Judge Buergenthal was the only judge who considered that there was not enough information. He stated that the lack of information vitiated the Court’s findings on the merits[28].

This can be one of the most debatable issues of the case. We need to bear in mind that if one of the parties do not collaborate or do not participate on the process that would lead to a not very legitimate solution[29]. The fact that all the judges except one supported giving an advisory opinion and thus considering that there was enough information could have helped to avoid the undesirable consequence of having an opinion with a lack of legitimacy.

 

3.3. Usefulness

 

The function of the Court, through the advisory opinions, has been to guide the UN organs in several matters, to clarify a situation in order to take action. That is why it was argued that the Court should not discuss the merits because the General Assembly had already declared that the Wall was illegal and as a result there was no need for assistance. This was rejected on the grounds that it was up to the General Assembly to decide what to do with the findings; it was not the Court’s role to decide that[30]. This reasoning is also a debatable one. If we analyze to past opinions we can observe that the organ which requested the opinion did not prejudice beforehand the merits of the case. A clear example is the Certain Expenses case where the General Assembly requested the opinion of the Court about what was consider part of the budget according to article 17.2; it did not say what the interpretation of the precept was. It left it to the Court. Accordingly, it can be argued that it undermines the reasoning if the organ has decided beforehand about the issue.

 

3.4. Political Influence

 

Another argument usually used in order to convince the Court that it should its discretionary power and not rendering an opinion is that it released would impede a political solution; it would interfere with the discussions between the actors. In our case, the Court decided that it was not sufficient. It considered that because of the divergent views of the actors about the opinion it was not possible to really appreciate the impact of it[31].

 

4. CONCLUSION

 

Using Falk’s words we can say, with regards to jurisdiction, that “the advisory opinion seems on extremely solid ground, relying on past patterns of practice and widely accepted views of the institutional role of the ICJ within the United Nations system”[32]. Another conclusion is that the supposedly unfettered discretion of the Court deciding to render an opinion is not that clear. Article 65 is “significantly offset by other Charter articles that oblige the organs of the United Nations to cooperate with each other”[33].



[1] C.D. Esposito, La jurisdicción consultiva de la Corte Internacional de Justicia, at xxvii-xxx (1996).

[2] Id. 103 et seq.

[3] Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Rep. 2004, at 136 (hereinafter Wall).

[4] M.M. Aljaghoub, The Advisory Function of the International Court of Justice 1946-2005, at 38 et seq. (2006); and Application for Review of Judgement No. 273 of the United Nations Administrative Tribunal, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Rep. 1982, 333-334.

[5] Legality of the Threat or Use Nuclear Weapons, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Rep., 1996, at 22.

[6] Wall, 145.

[7] Ibid. 148-150.

[8] Certain Expenses of the United Nations (Article 17, paragraph 2 of the Charter), Advisory Opinion, ICJ Rep. 1962, at 155.

[9] C. de Visscher, Teorías y realidades en Derecho Internacional Público 387 (1962).

[10] Esposito, 82 and note 90.

[11] Legal Consequences for States of the Continued Presence of South Africa in Namibia (South West Africa) notwithstanding Security Council Resolution 276 (1970), Advisory Opinion, ICJ Rep. 1971, at 27.

[12] I. Scobbie, “Issues of competence and procedure in the Wall advisory opinion” available at COMPLETE, at 13.

[13] See Esposito, 89-91 and  Aljaghoub, 61-63.

[14] Wall, 154.

[15] Application for Review of Judgement No. 158 of the United Nations Administrative Tribunal, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Rep. 1973, at 172.

[16] Legality of the Threat or Use Nuclear Weapons, 234.

[17] Aljaghoub, 59.

[18] Wall, 153-154.

[19] COMPLETE

[20] Wall, 144.

[21] Interpretation of Peace Treaties with Bulgaria, Hungary and Romania, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Rep. 1950, at 72.

[22] Wall, 44 and the jurisprudence cited.

[23] COMPLETE

[24] Western Sahara, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Rep. 1975, at 24.

[25] Ibid., 25.

[26] Scobbie, at 9.

[27] Wall, 160-162.

[28] Declaration of Judge Buergenthal, COMPLETE.

[29] Esposito, 100.

[30] Wall, 162-163.

[31] Ibid., 159-160.

[32] R.A. Falk, “Toward Authoritativeness: The ICJ Ruling on Israel’s Security Wall”, 99 AJIL 42, at 44 (2005).

[33] Aljaghoub, 67.