The Issue of Consent in Rape Prosecution: International Tribunals and Indian Courts

Written by Garima Tiwari

(  http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/ptsd)

While India struggles to make amendments to the existing rape laws a brief look into how the International Criminal Court (ICC) and International Tribunals have dealt with rape would be interesting. A look at the Indian position in the same context would help understand how the process differs particularly with reference to the issue of ‘consent’.

Nicolas  Poussin’s  famous  painting the “Rape of the Sabine Women” depicts women  walking  away  arm-in-arm  with  their  rapists,  suggesting “that  the  abducted  women  soon  accepted  their   assailants  as husbands.” It is  not surprising  then,  that rape  and  other  forms  of sexual violence  emanating  from  war  have  historically  been undocumented  and unpunished crimes.  Rape has been viewed as a reward or “spoil of war.”‘[i]

The first international treaty implicitly outlawing sexual violence, the Hague Convention of 1907, did not end impunity for these crimes: after World War II, for instance, the International Military Tribunal at Nuremberg did not expressly prosecute sexual violence, and the Tokyo Tribunal ignored the Japanese army’s enslavement of “comfort women”. In 1949, the landmark Geneva Conventions stated: “Women shall be especially protected … against rape, enforced prostitution, or any form of indecent assault.” [ii] It was the two  ad hoc International Criminal Tribunals for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY) and Rwanda (ICTR), which, for the first time, dealt comprehensively with the crime of rape.

Position taken by ICTR

The Akayesu case[iii]  recognised that rape is an extremely grave crime as it can constitute genocide and a crime against humanity, providing that all the other elements for each of these crimes are met. Here the ICTR adopted a very broad definition of the crime of rape, which is defined as ‘a physical invasion of a sexual nature, committed on a person under circumstances which are coercive’. It also dealt with sexual violence, a broader category which includes the more specific crime of rape, whose identifying elements are recognised as ‘any act of a sexual nature which is committed on a person under circumstances which are coercive. Sexual violence is not limited to a physical invasion of the human body and may include acts which do not involve penetration or even physical contact’.[iv] Thus, in  Akayesu coercion was identified as the criteria for rape consent was irrelevant. The Semanza trial chamber[v] held that “the mental element for rape as a crime against humanity is the intention to effect the prohibited sexual penetration with the knowledge that it occurs without the consent of the victim.” In effect, rape went from being a physical act committed on the body of a victim to a psychic act committed in the mind of the perpetrator and the issue of lack of  consent became relevant. Kajelijeli[vi], followed Semanza and focused on non-consent and description of body parts when determining whether Mr. Kajelijeli should be held responsible for rapes committed by forces under his command. He was found innocent of rape and was not found guilty of genocide for the rapes his men committed. In the Muhimana case[vii] ICTR stated that, “coercion is an element that may obviate the relevance of consent as an evidentiary factor in the crime of rape.” In other words, the court ruled that most international crimes will be almost universally coercive—making true consent virtually impossible and therefore irrelevant for international prosecution.

The judgment and sentence in Prosecutor v. Karemera et al.[viii], issued recently by Trial Chamber III of ICTR secured the first international judgment to ever hold high-level government officials responsible for rape in such circumstances unlike as we will see what happened in Lubanga.[ix]

Proving rape in genocide (or other violent conflicts) using the Akayesu criteria would be relatively straightforward. Once the context of the violent conflict has been established, rape occurring within that context is assumed to be non-consensual. On the other hand, many rapes that would be provable under Akayesu would be difficult or impossible to prove under the Semanza definition. This would not only insult the victims but severely damage the credibility of the international tribunals for handling rape cases.[x]

Position taken by ICTY

The Delaliæ et al case aka Èelebiæi case[xi] case confirmed the approach that characterises the ICTR jurisprudence on the matter. In fact, the judges adopted the same ‘conceptual’ broad definition found in the Akayesu judgment. However, the ICTY in the Furundžija judgment[xii], adopted a more technical and specific definition. It qualified rape as an outrage upon personal dignity as provided for in Article 3 of the ICTY Statute (war crimes) and torture.The Furundžija definition (para. 185) represents the result of a peculiar approach followed by the ICTY, which involved looking at national jurisdictions to extrapolate what—due to the international lacuna on the matter—should represent a common perception of the elements of the crime. The outcome of this exercise was the following definition of rape, which is divided into two parts:(i) the sexual penetration, however slight:  (a) of the vagina or anus of the victim by the penis of the perpetrator or any other  object used by the perpetrator; or (b) of the mouth of the victim by the penis of the perpetrator; (ii) by coercion or force or threat of force against the victim or a third person. Thus, here coercion and lack of consent both were needed. This amounted to reintroducing the relevance of consent for rape prosecution. In the  Kunarac et al case [xiii]it was held that rapes that occurred in a brothel-like setting in Foca were a form of enslavement. The court drew on the Furundzija decision and concluded that “sexual penetration will constitute rape if it is not truly voluntary or consensual on the part of the victim.” It put forward a definition whose elements could be generally recognised as essential by the most representative countries in the world. Therefore, once again, an in-depth research of national jurisdictions was carried out and the conclusion is a step beyond the Furundžija definition. Sexual acts are forbidden when perpetrated against the free will of a person, and the ‘use of force-threat’ element is reduced from the status of an element of the crime to a being evidence of the lack of consent of the victim to the sexual intercourse. The judges confirmed rape as a war crime and crime against humanity. Moreover, the act of rape was considered as one of the underlying acts for the crime of enslavement. Instead, in defining the elements of rape, the Foca Trial Chamber included a consent paradigm, permitting defendants to use consent to sex as a defense, which had been considered and excluded from previous Chambers. While the ICTY’s definition of consent laudably incorporates the notion of sexual autonomy, and is a liberal standard relative to consent requirements globally, the consent paradigm is inappropriate in conflict situations where rape is used as a weapon of war.

The Kvocka et al case [xiv]  reintroduced the requirement of the use of force as an element of the crime, together with the lack of consent. The Kunarac et al Appeal Judgement[xv] confirmed the previous definition given by Trial Chamber II in the same case. The Appeals Judges confirmed that the lack of consent is conditio sine qua non of the definition of rape and that the requirement of the use of force is not an essential element but rather a symptom of lack of genuine consent (para. 129).[xvi] The Appeals Chamber leaned toward the need to “presume non-consent” in contexts like genocide. In situations like Foca where women were held in rape camps, “such detentions amount to circumstances that were so coercive as to negate any possibility of consent.”

As Catherine MacKinnon notes : No other crime against humanity, once other standards are met, requires that the crime be proved to be non-consensual. In fact, using victim’s consent as a defense would be bizarre. Consider a trial for murder within a genocide. How plausible would it be if a defendant claimed that, even though the act of killing took place within a setting of genocide, the victim had really wanted to be killed, so the perpetrator simply obliged? The reason that consent is not relevant for prosecuting rape in international crimes is that the crime takes place within a context where what we normally think of as sexual autonomy (at least for women) does not exist. Given the context of radical force, there is no true choice and so no consent in international crimes.[xvii]  Thus, ICTY and ICTR are both trying to presume non-consent in coercive situations which I think is very positive.

Position taken by ICC

The Statute of the International Criminal Court proves that the achievements of the ICTR and ICTY with regard to the prosecution of the crime of rape have been generally accepted by the international community. Article 7(g) of the ICC Statute specifically prohibits rape and, in addition, includes ‘sexual slavery, enforced prostitution, forced pregnancy, enforced sterilization or any other form of sexual violence of comparable gravity’ within the notion of crimes against humanity. Moreover, paragraph (h) of Article 7 confirms persecution as a crime against humanity and includes gender as a new discriminatory ground. At paragraph 3 of the same Article it is further specified that the term gender is general in nature, thus referring to both sexes. Rape is also listed in Article 8 (b) (xxii)-1 as a war crime.     In the Elements of Crime annexed to the ICC Statute, the crime of rape requires the penetration of the anal or genital opening of the victim with an object or otherwise the penetration of any part of the body with a sexual organ, thus recalling the analogous first part of the Furundžija definition. Similarly, a reference to coercive situations capable to vitiate the genuine consent of the victim of rape is provided for in Article 7 (1) (g)-1 of the Elements.Thus, both coercion and consent have been discussed.

But the first judgment delivered by the ICC failed to give any help in this regard. In the Lubanga case, despite evidence pointing to wide spread rape and other forms of sexual violence against in particular girl child soldiers, the Prosecutor did not include crimes of sexual violence in the charges. The charges were brought under Article 8, war crimes, and as such could have included charges of torture, rape, sexual slavery or outrages upon personal dignity. The Trial Chamber noted that they chose not to amend the charges. The Prosecutor could have amended the indictment at any time prior to trial or even at a reasonable moment during the presentation of the prosecution case.

Judge Odio Benito, in her dissent, differed from the majority’ decision not to use the evidence of sexual violence as a means to define the legal elements of enlistment, conscription of children or use of children in hostilities as innate to their status as child soldiers. Judge Odio Benito’s reasoning related to the interpretation of the war crime charges at hand and, thus, was not conditioned upon the submission of further amended charges. Evidence or information certainly did come out during the trial concerning the widespread nature of the sexual violence that occurred when these children were conscripted and enlisted. To that extent the case highlights the sexual violence even though it has not been charged.[xviii] Various groups suggested later on that a failure to add more serious charges would run the risk of offending the victims and strengthen the growing feeling of mistrust of the work of the ICC and of the work of the prosecutor especially. [xix]

Rape Law in India

India’s current definition of rape is steeped in outmoded traditions, dates from 1860, and  has been amended only twice since then, in 1983 and 2003. In India,it is defined as intentional and unlawful sexual intercourse with a woman without her consent. According to section 375 of the Indian Penal Code, an allegation of rape has to satisfy the either of the following criteria: sexual intercourse between a man with a woman in the following circumstances: (a) against the will of the woman; (b) without her consent; (c) under duress; (d) consent obtained by fraud; (e) consent obtained by reason of unsoundness of mind or intoxication. If the woman is below the age of 16 years, sexual intercourse is deemed to amount to rape.  Even if the woman has consented, it would be considered rape under the law. There is however, an exception to this definition of rape.  Un-consented sexual intercourse between a man and his wife would not amount to rape if the wife is 16 years or older. According to section 376 of the Indian Penal Code, the minimum sentence for a convicted rapist is seven to 10 years, while the maximum sentence is life imprisonment. Gang rape carries a punishment of 10 years to life imprisonment. However, in certain situations a convicted rapist can get away with serving less time since the law allows the judge discretion to award a lesser punishment in special cases such as an aged person or a person of unsound mind. Under section 354 of the Indian Penal Code, sexual assault is described as “outraging the modesty of a woman” – a description considered archaic, subjective and limited by legal experts. Currently sexual assault crimes carry a maximum punishment of two years. [xx]

Thus, issue of consent and coercive situations both have been incorporated in the Indian law, but the application of law is not in tandem with the requirements of justice as what is consent is linked with various social, cultural and moral annotations along with the character and sexual history of the prosecuterix. In 2011, only 26% of rape trials ended in conviction. In Delhi for instance, there’s only been one conviction out of 635 cases of rape reported in 2011.[xxi] This is also because, various social elements like the stigma attached to pre-marital sex, stereotyping as well as virginity play in the mind. This presumption of consent was embodied in Section 155 (4) of the Indian Evidence Act, which allowed defendants to offer evidence about a victim’s character and sexual history and remained there till altered as recently as 2002.  Changing law does not change much, since various practises and notions surrounding rape still stem on the character of the victim, like use of the “two-finger test” being a sufficient testament of the history of sexual intercourse of the victim. Indian law is still based on the colonial times and ironically while Britain changed its rape law with time, we are still caught in the web of antiquity. Another important aspect is the mindset. According to a survey by Sakshi, an NGO active in gender issues, 74% of judges surveyed a decade ago believed that “preservation of the family” should be a principal concern for women even in the event of violence in the home. And 51% believed that women who stay with abusive husbands are “partly to blame” for their plight. Some 68% felt that “provocative attire was an invitation to rape” and 55% felt that the “moral character of the victim” was relevant.

In the Mathura Rape case [xxii] the Supreme Court acquitted the two policemen who raped a sixteen year old girl on the grounds that the victim had no visible marks of injury and that she did not raise an alarm. Here consent has been implied from no resistance. In Mohd. Habib v. State [xxiii] the Delhi High Court acquitted a man who raped a seven year old girl, asserting that there were no marks of injury on his penis. The Court refused to take cognizance of the bite marks on the victim’s person and the fact that she suffered a ruptured hymen on account of the sexual assault. Even the eye- witnesses who witnessed this ghastly act, could not sway the High Court’s judgment.  In State of Punjab vs. Gurmit Singh[xxiv] , the Supreme Court has advised the lower judiciary, that even if the victim girl is shown to be habituated to sex, the Court should not describe her to be of loose character. The Supreme Court has in the case of State of Maharashtra Vs. Madhukar N. Mardikar [xxv] , held that “the unchastity of a woman does not make her open to any and every person to violate her person as and when he wishes. She is entitled to protect her person if there is an attempt to violate her person against her wish. She is equally entitled to the protection of law. Therefore merely because she is of easy virtue, her evidence cannot be thrown overboard.” Thus, character, and prior sexual history does not imply consent. In some cases the Supreme Court has also observed that sex with the consent of the girl on a promise to marry her will not constitute rape unless it was shown that such consent was obtained by the man under coercion or threat.[xxvi]

The Mathura case is relevant because a minor change in the law did take place in 1983, focussing on custodial rape in which it would no longer be necessary to prove lack of consent. This is similar to the situation of coercion as used in the International tribunals for the situation is such, wherein the victim is unable to retaliate, consent would not be needed. This has been provided under Section 114A of the Indian Evidence Act 1872 as presumption of no consent.

Justice Verma Committee, formed as a response to the Delhi Gangrape incident, recommends inclusion of marital rape thereby highlighting marriage does not given unequivoval right over the body of the other, and consent remains relevant. The Criminal Law (Amendment) Bill, 2012, widens the ambit by replacing the word rape with sexual assault .While earlier, the definition of rape under the Indian Penal Code was sexual intercourse with a woman without her consent, courts have confined it to penile penetration of the vagina. The new amendment though brings under the ambit of this offence penetration of “vagina, anus, urethra or mouth with any part of the body including the penis, or any other object for a sexual purpose”. The definitions are also making the law gender neutral. Thus, consent in all such cases would be looked into.

Conclusion

As seen above, both in Indian law and international law, two criteria are used to identify rape: Coercion and non-consent.[xxvii] Indian law includes both in some way yet, consent is sometimes judged with eyes of stereotyping. Some countries, may adopt either of the two. The trend of ICTR and ICTY more towards looking at the situation as coercive, because of the nature of events and placing consent irrelevant in such circumstances of war and conflict.

There are several ways that the international crime of rape may be different from some national definitions of rape. There are a important legal and procedural protections offered to rape victims by most international courts which are mostly absent from national courtrooms, such as permitting in camera testimony and not permitting attacks on the victim’s credibility through probing their sexual relationships. The tribunals have also taken positive steps to ensure victims of sexual violence can testify without retribution or fear for their safety. Through the development of its rules of procedure, the ICTY has sought to protect the victims of sexual violence from abusive lines of questioning during testimony. Witnesses can also testify under a pseudonym, with face and voice distortion in video feeds, or in closed session. Thus, the procedural  rules  in  the ICTY  and ICTR,  and  ICC,  allow  for  judicial  discretion  in  granting  witness anonymity. Again, in wartime rape  crimes,  identity  does  not become  a  crucial factor,  as  it  does  in  regular  domestic  rape  cases. Furthermore, as is clear from above discussion, international criminal law does not revolve around the issue of consent to the same extent as it does in many national settings.

Even though a lot can be learnt from the various procedural and legal protections offered by international tribunals, the issue of consent has to be studied differently in different national systems whose national, religious, cultural and political ideologies infuse the laws.


[i] Patricia H.  Davis, Comment, The  Politics of Prosecuting Rape as a  War Crime, 34INT’LLAW 1223,1226  (2000)

[iii] Case No. ICTR-96-4-T, 2 September 1998

[iv] Akayesu, para. 688,Musema, case No. ICTR-96-13, at para. 965

[v] Prosecutor v. Semanza, Case No. ICTR-97-20-T, Judgment and Sentence (May 15, 2003)

[vi] The Prosecutor v. Juvénal Kajelijeli (Judgment and Sentence), ICTR-98-44A-T, International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR), 1 December 2003, available at: http://www.unhcr.org/refworld/docid/404466007.html %5Baccessed 30 January 2013]

[vii] The Prosecutor v. Mika Muhimana, Case N° ICTR-95-1B-T

[viii] The Prosecutor v. Édouard Karemera et al., Case No. ICTR-98-44-T (issued on 2nd February 2012)

[x] MacKinnon, Catherine A. 2006. “Defining Rape Internationally: A Comment on Akayesu.” Pp. 237-246 in Are Women Human? Catherine MacKinnon. Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press.

[xi] Case No. IT-96-21-T, 1998

[xii] Case No. IT-95-17/1-T, 10 December 1998

[xiii] Case No. IT-96-23 and IT-96-23/1, 22 February 2001)

[xiv] Case No. IT-98-30/1, 2 November 2001; ( paras. 177-178).

[xv] Case No. IT-96-23 & IT-96-23/1 A, 12 June 2002 paras. 125-133),

[xix] “Obtaining further charges in the opening case against Thomas Lubanga”, Statement by women’s rights and human rights NGOs of the DRC on the prosecutions by the ICC, Beni, September 16, 2006

[xxii] 1978) CrLJ 1864 SC

[xxiii] (1989) CrLJ 137 Delhi

[xxiv] (1996) 2 SCC 384

[xxv]  AIR 1991 SC 207

[xxvii] Supra Note 10

The ICC: Protection for the Rohingya?

Written by: Regina Paulose

In November 2012, the Office of the Prosecutor (OTP) of the ICC released its Report on Preliminary Examination Activities 2012, which examines situations in various countries for acts which could potentially amount to crimes against humanity and/or war crimes. Some of the countries mentioned in this report are North Korea, Columbia, and Afghanistan.[1] While one could question some of the cases the OTP is currently investigating,[2] this author takes the position that there are other atrocious human rights situations which need the immediate attention of the ICC.  In particular, the OTP should begin to make efforts to investigate and address the continued persecution and abuse of the Rohingya population in Burma.[3]

The Status Quo Conflict and Response

According to some scholars, the Rohingya’s origins are not entirely clear.[4] Setting aside this debate, the Rohingya mainly reside in Burma on the western side. The Rohingya are a Muslim minority in Burma where the majority of the population is Buddhist. It is estimated that there are currently 800,000 to 1 million Rohingya living in Burma. Since the 1970’s the regime in Burma has been trying to drive out or restrict the Rohingya.[5] This sentiment was put into law in 1982 when it created a Citizenship Law, which mandates that a person must prove their Burmese ancestry dating back to 1823 in order to have freedom of movement and access to other basic rights such as education in the country.[6] (Recall: Armenian Genocide and Nazi Germany). This law is one of the prime reasons why the Rohingya have become “stateless.”

The Rohingya have been the target of violence and recent clashes, which has left “dozens dead and tens of thousands internally displaced.”[7] One does not have to look further than the last 8 months to truly see how the regime continues to treat the Rohingya. In June 2012, an outbreak in communal violence between the Buddhist and Muslim Rakhine and the Rohingya lead to massive sweeps resulting in detention of Rohingya men and boys. (Recall the massacre at Srebrenica). Reports indicated that these groups were subject to ill treatment and were held “incommunicado.”[8] In October 2012, satellite images showed that homes of the Rohingya were being destroyed by security forces. The security forces then overwhelmed and cornered the Rohingya to drive them out of the area. This destruction is on top of the gruesome reports of beheading and killing of women and children.[9] (Recall: Rwanda).  The violence has continued in spurts, but is clearly directed at the Rohingya and motivated purely by hatred.

Faced with no other alternatives and with no access to justice in their country, the Rohingya have begun to flee only to be met with rejection from other countries. On the first day of 2013, some members of the Rohingya group were intercepted by Thai authorities and were deported back to Burma.[10] The Thai Navy is under orders to send them away from Thailand. Bangladesh has also expressed that it is not willing to accept Rohingya into their country.

Some countries however are reaching out to the Rohingya. For instance, Malaysia does accept the Rohingya as refugees. Iran recently sent humanitarian aid in order to help and has called upon the UN to take action.[11] Regionally, ASEAN offered to conduct “talks” but that was “rejected.” The regime explained that it sees the escalating violence as an “internal problem.”[12]

After a close examination of these events, the U.S. Presidential visit in November 2012, made the waters murky. President Obama felt that Burma was “moving in a better direction” and that there were “flickers of progress.” During the visit the President met with an advocate of the Rohingya population. While President Obama stated that his visit was not an endorsement of the current government, simple questions arise as to what the U.S. would be willing to do (or not do) to prevent this sectarian violence from escalating.[13] Not surprisingly, after the visit, Thein Sein made 2013 human rights news, when his regime admitted to using air raids against the Kachin rebels who are battling the government for control over certain territories.[14]

Rohingya Refugees

The ICC and its potential involvement

There are two interesting points of discussion that this scenario creates. The first is how the Office of The Prosecutor (OTP) would be able to meet jurisdictional requirements if it were to seriously consider prosecution. The controversial propio motu powers of the Prosecutor would allow her to investigate this situation. Articles 13, 15, and 53 of the Rome Statute require temporal jurisdiction, territorial or personal jurisdiction, and material jurisdiction. In addition, there are requirements in the Statute concerning admissibility. Burma is not a state party to the Rome Statute. The real challenge with this case would be with meeting the territorial or personal jurisdiction elements. Of course the easiest way to meet this requirement would be if the UN Security Council (UNSC) would be willing to refer the case as it did with Bashir of  Sudan.  As stated above, the U.S. Presidential visit does not make clear at this time what the U.S. position would be, especially considering the U.S. also eased sanctions, perhaps as a symbol of new relations, on the regime in November.

Another interesting point of discussion also concerns the potential charges. This author believes that this is a strong case for various charges under crimes against humanity against the Government. Another added dimension to this is that there are also civilians who target the Rohingya and seek to remove them from Burma. Since the posting of this article in January, there has been a recent increase in violence between Buddhist monks, civilians, and the Rohingya.  As previously noted, the regime has continuously called the situation with the Rohingya an “internal problem.”  The situation with the Rohingya can be distinguished from the conflict with the Kachin rebel/soldiers who are fighting for territory and independence.

Some other kind of action is now necessary besides dialogue and commentary from high level UN officials. Our cries of “never again” have become hollow.  The purpose of the ICC should be to facilitate deterrence in addition to punish perpetrators of grave crimes. The international community waits for these situations to become so grave that every action becomes too late. We cannot say we are students of history, when we continually are faced with the same situations over again and repeat the same mistakes. Our ability to ignore tragedy has come at the expense of hundreds of thousands of lives.

Interested in reading more or the full length analysis? Check out: A Road Well Traveled: Religion, Just War, and the Rome Statute, 2(2) A38JIL (2013) 178.

http://www.athirtyeight.com/2013/06/volume-2-issue-2.html


[1] A copy of this report can be found at ICC Coalition website which keeps an excellent record of documents pertaining to the ICC and the OTP: http://www.iccnow.org/?mod=browserdoc&type=14&year=2012

[2] This author questions some of the potential charging decisions being made by the ICC – for instance – the case involving North Korea and South Korea, is a clear act of aggression, but is under examination as a war crime. The death toll in this case is 22 people. The OTP is spending resources in Colombia, to assess whether the government is prosecuting the FARC properly. The author concurs that these cases are worthy of ICC attention, but questions why the ICC wont deal with situations that are ongoing which need immediate intervention. (Besides financial reasons).

[3] The great name debate: the U.S. recognizes the official name of the country as Burma.  Myanmar is the name was introduced by the former military regime, 23 years ago, and is preferred by the current regime. President Obama reportedly did refer to the country as Myanmar out of diplomatic courtesy when meeting with Thein Sein, President  in November 2012. See http://www.cnn.com/2012/11/19/politics/obama-asia-trip/index.html

[4] For a comprehensive report on the Rohingya situation, see Human Rights Watch, “The Government Could Have Stopped This” a report released July 31, 2012 and available at http://www.hrw.org/reports/2012/07/31/government-could-have-stopped . Khaled Ahmed, “Who are the Rohingya?” The Express Tribune, July 31, 2012, available at: http://tribune.com.pk/story/415447/who-are-the-rohingya/

[5] Gianluca Mezzofiore, “Myanmar Rohingya Muslims: The Hidden Genocide” August 22, 2012, available at: http://www.ibtimes.co.uk/articles/376189/20120822/burma-myanmar-rohingya-muslims-ethnic-cleansing.htm

[7] UN News Centre, “Independent UN expert calls on Myanmar to carry out latest human rights pledges.” November 20, 2012, available at: http://www.un.org/apps/news/story.asp?NewsID=43550

[8] Amnesty International, “Myanmar: Abuses against Rohingya erode human rights progress.” July 19, 2012, available at: http://www.amnesty.org/en/news/myanmar-rohingya-abuses-show-human-rights-progress-backtracking-2012-07-19

[9] Human Rights Watch, “Burma: Satellite Images Show Widespread Attacks on Rohingya” November 17, 2012 available at: http://www.hrw.org/news/2012/11/17/burma-satellite-images-show-widespread-attacks-rohingya

[10] Human Rights Watch, “Thailand: Don’t Deport Rohingya ‘Boat People’” January 2, 2013, available at: http://www.hrw.org/node/112247

[11] Ahlul Bayt News Agency, “Iran to Send 30 tons of Humanitarian Aid to Myanmar’s Rohingyas” January 5, 2013, available at: http://abna.ir/data.asp?lang=3&Id=378800

[12] ALJAZEERA, “Myanmar rejects talks on ethnic violence” October 31, 2012, available at: http://www.aljazeera.com/news/asia-pacific/2012/10/2012103161130375846.html

[13] Although I thoroughly question the impact of sanctions and their utility, some sanctions were eased on Burma in the days leading up to the Presidential visit.

[14] See Thomas Fuller, “Myanmar Military Admits to Airstrikes on Kachin Rebels” New York Times, January 2, 2013, available at: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/01/03/world/asia/myanmar-military-admits-air-raids-on-kachin-rebels.html?smid=tw-nytimesworld&seid=auto&_r=1&. See also Associated Press, “Myanmar’s Kachin rebels accuse government of artillery attack on headquarter city” January 6, 2013, available at: http://www.washingtonpost.com/world/asia_pacific/apnewsbreak-myanmars-kachin-rebels-accuse-government-of-artillery-attack-on-headquarter-city/2013/01/06/dc668006-57fa-11e2-b8b2-0d18a64c8dfa_story.htm

Reaching Mutual Consensus: ICC, ICJ and the Crime of Aggression

Written by Jan Guardian

International Criminal CourtNone should underestimate the significance of the outcome of the first Review Conference on the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (hereinafter ICC),[1] namely, the adoption of a resolution[2] amending the Rome Statute that includes a definition of the crime of aggression[3] and the conditions under which the Court, in the future, could exercise jurisdiction with respect to the crime.[4] Whereas the definition of the crime of aggression is rather clear and was laid down a while ago by the Special Working Group on the Crime of Aggression,[5] and the preconditions for the exercise of the jurisdiction over the crime by the ICC raise minor concerns, if any at all, there are still some ambiguities in respect to the hypothetical possibility of the ICC and the International Court of Justice (hereinafter ICJ) reaching different conclusions in their decisions regarding the unlawful use of force and, thus, establishing either the presence or the absence of an act of aggression.

Given that the ICC is fully seized with the crime of aggression in any particular situation and that by the time the ICC proceeds to a verdict on a prosecution for the crime of aggression the Security Council has likely already made any conflicting decision possible,[6] the ICC judges are authorized to make their own determinations on aggression, since such, made by an organ outside the ICC “shall be without prejudice to the Court’s own findings” under the Rome Statute.[7] Hence, if the case is subject to simultaneous consideration by the ICC and the ICJ, there is ample risk that this will amount to inconsistent decisions.

The classic example of a similar decisional inconsistency between the judicial bodies of the international legal order is that of the ICJ and the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia in Nicaragua[8] and Tadić[9]cases, largely referred to in the legal literature as one of the inconsistencies leading to the fragmentation of international law.[10] The consequence of such an occurrence in the cases brought before the ICJ and the ICC appears to be particularly problematic given the highly-charged political atmosphere in which the ICC has been operating during the years, its fragile credibility and a lack of a proper institutional hierarchy within the international legal system.[11] Yet, the point is not to take a stand in favor of either of the two bodies, but rather to create a functional and logical system that would eliminate any discrepancies at an early stage of the proceedings in the case of aggression, which is deemed to be especially important in the light of the tensions between the states concerned.

A reasonable suggestion would, thus, be for the ICC to request the General Assembly to seek an advisory opinion from the ICJ pursuant to Article 96(a) of the United Nations Charter (hereinafter UN Charter)[12] and Article 65(1) of the ICJ Statute,[13] or to be so authorized by the General Assembly to request such an opinion proprio motu at any time pursuant to Article 96(b) of the UN Charter[14] as to enable the ICC to use the findings of the ICJ and for such a request to be a precondition for the exercise of the jurisdiction by the ICC.

It is worth mentioning, that this option was included in the Discussion Paper proposed by the Coordinator of the Preparatory Commission for the ICC[15] but was somehow dismissed later on. One of the main arguments against this option was that “because the determination of the existence of an act of aggression is a matter that affects the responsibility of a particular State that it is inappropriate as a subject of a request for an advisory opinion.”[16] However, this is quite arguable in the light of the fact that (1) the issue of an advisory opinion does not trigger state responsibility per se, and that (2) the interstate dispute at stake and subsequent determination of state responsibility will only be subject of consideration of the same judicial body that issued the advisory opinion, namely the ICJ, which is well-known for its consistency. Therefore, the request of the advisory opinion of the ICJ by the ICC in cases concerning the crime of aggression seems to be a logical choice, but the question whether, if at all, this scheme will be put into operation remains.

 


[1]       UN General Assembly, Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (last amended 2010), 17 July 1998, ISBN No. 92-9227-227-6, available at: http://www.unhcr.org/refworld/docid/3ae6b3a84.html [accessed 12 October 2012].

[2]       Rev. Conf. of the Rome Statute, 13th plenary meeting, June 11, 2010, I.C.C. Doc. RC/Res. 6 (advance version) (June 16, 2010)[hereinafter RC/Res. 6].

[3]       Ibid., Annex I, art. 8 bis (1).

[4]       Ibid., Annex I, art. 15 bis, 15 ter.

[5]       David Scheffer, States Parties Approve New Crimes for International Criminal Court. ASIL Insights, Vol. 14, Issue 16, June 22, 2010, p. 5.

[6]       Mark Stein, The Security Council, the International Criminal Court, and the Crime of Aggression: How Exclusive is the Security Council’s Power to Determine Aggression?. IND. INT’L & COMP. L. REV., Vol. 16, Issue 1 (2005), p. 33.

[7]       RC/Res. 6, supra note 2, Annex I, art. 15 bis (9), art. 15 ter (4).

[8]       Case Concerning Military and Paramilitary Activities In and Against Nicaragua (Nicaragua v. United States of America); Merits, International Court of Justice (ICJ), 27 June 1986.

[9]       Prosecutor v. Dusko Tadic (Appeal Judgment), IT-94-1-A, International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY), 15 July 1999.

[10]     Enzo Cannizzaro, Interconnecting International Jurisdictions: A Contribution from the Genocide Decision of the ICJ. European Journal of Legal Studies, Issue 1 (2007), p. 4.

[11]     International Law Commission, Report of the International Law Commission, 58th session (1 May – 9 June and 3 July – 11 August 2006), 2006, A/CN.4/L.682, para. 51.

[12]     United Nations, Charter of the United Nations, 24 October 1945, 1 UNTS XVI [hereinafter UN Charter], art. 96(a).

[13]     United Nations, Statute of the International Court of Justice, 18 April 1946, art. 65(1).

[14]     UN Charter, supra note 12, art. 96(b).

[15]     Preparatory Commission for the International Criminal Court, Definition of the crime of aggression and conditions for the exercise of jurisdiction: Discussion paper proposed by the Coordinator, 9th session (8-19 April, 1-12 July 2002), 2002, PCNICC/2002/WGCA/RT.1, para. 4.

[16]     Crime of Aggression: Statement by the United States, September 26, 2001.

An Assessment of Kampala: Final Comments

 Written by: Professor William Schabas [1]

The Kampala Review Conference of the Rome Statute provides a much-needed shot of legal adrenaline to the International Criminal Court. Several of the achievements at Kampala were relatively minor and inconsequential. Fortunately, they are dwarfed by the stunning accomplishment of the amendments of aggression, adopted in extremis early Saturday morning. Until about 1030 PM Friday night, I could not find anybody prepared to wager a significant sum of money on the likelihood of a positive outcome.

While much credit is due to the impressive diplomatic skills, and determination, of Christian Wenaweser, Prince Zeid and Stefan Barriga, who were the architects of the negotiations, personalities alone do not account for the result. At the Rome Conference, and for some years afterwards, I used to say that the Court was protected by a guardian angel. But this was just a metaphor for the fact that the Court, and international criminal justice, is – to paraphrase Victor Hugo – ‘an idea whose time has come’. And nothing can stop it. For some years, with the Court’s activity in the doldrums, I had lost sight of the guardian angel. But he/she was certainly in evidence last Friday and Saturday.

This time, though, the idea is a narrow one, and it is built around the crime of aggression. One striking difference with the Rome Conference was the relative absence of the NGOs at Kampala. They were there in a formal sense, especially at the beginning of the Conference, when the proceedings looked more like an academic seminar or a political meeting than a treaty negotiation. But many of them were quite indifferent to the incorporation of aggression into the Statute. I am struck by the resemblance of their attitude to the American position, which treats aggression as a bit tangential from the core mission of the Court, which is to promote human rights through the prosecution of the other core crimes, namely genocide, crimes against humanity and war crimes. Even the High Commissioner for Human Rights, who actually attended part of the Kampala Conference, has yet to issue a statement signaling the achievement of incorporating the crime of aggression in the Rome Statute.

Nothing could be more mistaken, however. The wise judges at Nuremberg described aggressive war as the supreme crime, encompassing the evil of all the others. What Kampala does is refocus our attention onto the importance of the prohibition of war – on the jus ad bellum. This is an important and helpful correction, and it is to be hoped that the message of Kampala will slowly percolate through the human rights discourse.

Those who are keen on the aggression issue are very troubled by the seven-year delayed entry into force. It would be a mistake to exaggerate the significance of this. Entry into force of amendments to treaties always takes time. The amending procedure is quite arcane, and even without the seven-year rule this would take a long time in any case. Although the amendment requires thirty ratifications and a positive decision by the States parties, this should not pose a serious problem, and both conditions should be fulfilled by 1 January 2017 or shortly thereafter.

Then, the result will be much better than had the Conference to what many thought was the appropriate amending process. Because the amendment will apply to all States parties, and not just those who have ratified it, provided of course they have not made an opt-out declaration. There may be some of these, but there is no cause for pessimism here. There will be a high political price to pay for any government that considers making an opt-out declaration. It is a price that many will prefer not to pay.

Nor should we lose sight of the incentive that the amendments create for States that have not joined the Court. According to article 15bis, a non-party State is immune from the Court’s jurisdiction over the crime of aggression. The Court cannot punish crimes committed by its nationals or on its territory. Some States will welcome this because it will insulate their nationals, but many will realize that they are being deprived of the deterrent power of the Rome Statute, in that aggression committed on their territory and against them totally escapes the jurisdiction. Hopefully, some of them will appreciate the interest in joining the Court because of this added layer of protection.

I am reminded of the importance that the first President of the Court, Philippe Kirsch, attached to the work on the crime of aggression. My recollection is that he felt it was important not only to show to States that the reference to aggression in article 5(1) had some substance behind it. He also explained that incorporating aggression in the Statute would help convince some States to join the institution. He was right at the time, and his vision has now borne fruit.

Those who are unhappy with the Court’s new mandate will try to pick holes in the legality of the amendments. It is true that they reflect some creative approaches, but everything passes what Roger Clark calls the ‘straight face test of advocacy’. Legal academics who support the Court, and the amendments, can assist judges in the future with reassurances that the amendments actually work. The Statute as adopted in Rome had its share of ambiguities. The Kampala Conference was able to find a workable way forward.

Beyond the adoption of the aggression amendments, there is really not much else to say about the Kampala Conference. It is of course positive to have repaired an oversight in the war crimes provisions. However, the amendment to article 8 is symbolic, and it is doubtful that it will ever lead to prosecutions. There have, to date, never been any international prosecutions for the use of such weapons. It is occasionally pointed out that Saddam Hussein used poison gas at Halabja, but it is absurd to suggest that the failure to recognize the use of such weapons as an international crime means that there is an impunity gap for such atrocities. They can be prosecuted as crimes against humanity and even genocide. Years from now, people will point the prohibited weapons issue at Kampala with irony, noting that the States Parties were able to address the prohibition of relatively archaic weapons that are rarely if ever used in modern combat, but that they could not deal with the important issues: anti-personnel mines, cluster munitions, depleted uranium weapons and, of course, nuclear weapons.

The Conference agreed to leave article 124 alone. The importance of this provision was always exaggerated, especially by the human rights NGOs. Amnesty International called it a ‘licence to kill’, but never attempted to provide evidence that could back up such a hyperbolic claim. Arguably, article 124 helped smooth the ratification of two States parties. If it can do this trick again over the next five years, then it will be worth leaving it in the Statute. And if it cannot prompt further ratifications, then how can it be claimed that any harm was done?

What the Conference failed to do was talk about the Court and its performance. There may have been good policy reasons for doing so. Perhaps Kampala was not the right place for a stocktaking on the activities, results and operations of the Court. But this subject cannot be avoided forever.


[1] Written on June 17, 2010, and posted after the close of the Kampala Conference. The original post can be found at: http://iccreviewconference.blogspot.com/. Professor Schabas regular blog can be found at: http://humanrightsdoctorate.blogspot.com/ 

 William Schabas  is Professor of international law at MiddlesexUniversity in London. He also holds appointments at LeidenUniversity, where he is professor of international criminal law and human rights, the National University of Ireland Galway, where he is emeritus professor of human rights and chairman of the Irish Centre for Human Rights, and the Law Institute of the ChineseAcademy of Social Sciences, where he has the title of honorary professor. He is a member of the RoyalIrishAcademy, an Officer of the Order of Canada, and recipient of several honorary degrees.