At the moment, alien seamen present problems due to a variety of factors: The inability of Norwegian, Greek, Yugoslav, Dutch, Belgian, and other friendly vessels to return to their home ports under German occupation to replenish their crews with nationals; the dislocation throughout Europe of arrangements for hiring, paying, and attending to the welfare of seamen; the inability of American immigration authorities to force the repatriation of Norwegian, Greek, etc., seamen who overstay their leave in our ports; the wage and other labor difficulties arising from the freedom of seamen to accept or reject any offered job, to quit their jobs and seek better ones; and the operation of our Asiatic exclusion laws upon increasing numbers of Chinese and Lascar seamen.

On July 6, 2017, Pre-Trial Chamber II of the International Criminal Court (the Court or ICC)—composed of Judges Tarfusser, Perrin de Brichambaut, and Chung—held that South Africa violated the Rome Statute of the ICC (Rome Statute) by failing to arrest and surrender to the Court President Omar Al-Bashir of Sudan when he visited the country in June 2015. However, the Court did not refer the matter to the ICC Assembly of States Parties (ASP) or the United Nations Security Council (UNSC) pursuant to Article 87(7) of the Rome Statute. The decision added South Africa to a list of ICC state parties that have failed in their Rome Statute obligations with respect to the incumbent head of state of Sudan. It also marked the first time that the ICC Office of the Prosecutor (OTP), all ICC states parties, and the United Nations (UN) were invited to present their views and argue fully what is perhaps the most legally contentious and politically sensitive issue that the ICC has faced in its history.

In a world in which war crimes, crimes against humanity, and genocide are not uncommon, the institution that was set up to have jurisdiction over them is in danger of being unable to discharge its mandate. Put starkly, the International Criminal Court (ICC) suffers too frequently from an inability to arrest or otherwise detain alleged perpetrators, whether the prosecutor is acting proprio motu or is following a reference to the court by a state party or the Security Council. The situation of Saif al-Islam Gaddafi is a case in point: notwithstanding the Security Council's referral of Libya to the ICC, at least as a member of the public it is difficult to detect any substantial international pressure that has been applied to have Gaddafi transferred to the Court; instead, he has been mooted as a candidate in future presidential elections. In total, the Court has issued thirty-two arrest warrants and nine summonses to appear, yet has held only nine individuals in custody, with fifteen still at large. The fugitives include citizens of the Democratic Republic of Congo, Uganda, Sudan, Kenya, Libya, and the Ivory Coast. Once the present trials before the court have concluded, there is only one case potentially waiting in the wings. A sole outstanding individual, Al-Hassan Ag Abdoul Aziz Ag Mohamed Ag Mahmoud from Mali, has made an initial appearance, and later this year the pre-trial stage of his case should commence; otherwise, there are simply the three trials in progress. However, I urge careful reflection before the Court is blamed for periods in which its docket of cases is lean.

On February 29, 2020, the United States signed an “Agreement for Bringing Peace to Afghanistan” with the Taliban. The agreement provides that the United States and its allies will withdraw all forces from Afghanistan in stages over a fourteen-month period and that the Taliban will not allow actors within its controlled territory to attack the United States and its allies. The agreement contains additional provisions with respect to prisoner exchanges, sanctions relief, and future negotiations regarding a permanent ceasefire and broader political settlement that the Taliban will pursue with the government of Afghanistan. On the same day, the United States and Afghanistan issued a Joint Declaration reflecting some, though not all, of the terms of the U.S. agreement with the Taliban. Over the three months following the signing of the U.S. agreement with the Taliban, the parties have implemented some aspects of its terms. But others remain unfulfilled, despite the passage of deadlines.

Scholars have argued that Senate-approved treaties are becoming increasingly irrelevant in the United States, because their role can be fulfilled by their close but less politically costly cousin, the congressional-executive agreement. This study demonstrates that treaties are more durable than congressional-executive agreements, supporting the view that there are qualitative differences between the two instruments. Abandoning the treaty may therefore lead to unintended consequences by decreasing the tools that the executive has available to design optimal agreements.

After Russia targeted the 2016 presidential election, U.S. government authorities repeatedly warned about the prospects of foreign interference in and influence on the 2020 election. Throughout the fall of 2020, government officials and private companies took a number of actions to address threats to the election, including issuing public warnings, imposing sanctions, and taking down foreign government-linked accounts. In a declassified report released in March 2021, the intelligence community concluded that although Russia and Iran carried out influence operations to affect the election, there are “no indications that any foreign actor attempted to alter any technical aspect of the voting process in the 2020 US elections, including voter registration, casting ballots, vote tabulation, or reporting results.” In December 2020, however, U.S. cybersecurity firm FireEye disclosed that it suffered a breach by a nation-state sponsored actor, and numerous U.S. government agencies soon revealed that they too had been breached in intrusions widely attributed to Russia.

International organizations (IOs) provide space for the exchange of ideas. Particularly since the Cold War ended, many expected that this exchange would inevitably lead to more democratization and liberalization around the globe. Instead, some of the largest non-democratic actors on the global stage have functioned within these organizations for decades without liberalizing, while others joined as full or newly transitioned democracies just to see those qualities slowly erode. As Tom Ginsburg's recent article concludes, today's autocrats might instead use international law—including the legal apparatus of IOs—to further their own authoritarian agendas. This essay engages with Ginsburg's thoughtful piece by suggesting that IOs both enable and resist the emergence of “Authoritarian International Law” (AIL). Creating or joining IOs is a costly but attractive strategy for revisionist states since members equally influence IO evolution. Fortunately for democracy's advocates, IOs are usually status quo entities, and liberalism is deeply embedded in many existing today. Cross-temporal observations of changes in IO membership, members’ regime types, and IO features beyond the founding documents are needed to fully understand how organizations simultaneously perform these paradoxical functions.

There is no corpus of law that is global in nature. Rather, “global” migration law is a collection of legal instruments situated at levels ascending from the subnational to the international levels. International law instruments contribute to the global governance of international migration at the international and regional levels. Two issues arise with respect to the effectiveness of these instruments: voluntary state accession and subsequent enforcement, even when states are parties to them. Domestic law regulates issues of international migration at the national and subnational levels. Enforcement is assumed to be more effective here. But this effectiveness varies according to the power of states, their levels of development and their capacities.

Claims to security are everywhere. They are used by states to justify invading other nations1 and to derogate from international law obligations.2 They are invoked by governments as reasons to exclude foreign nationals from their territory;3 surveil their citizens;4 and kill citizens and foreigners alike by remote control.5 Some experts use security claims to underscore the seriousness of global threats, like COVID-19.6 Security claims are also used by communities to defend their rights and well-being from those threatening them, including the state itself.7 Still others criticize the use of security discourse—in at least some circumstances—describing it as undermining the rule of law.8 Embedded within these claims is a view about whose security matters most—something that is also implicitly reflected in J. Benton Heath's four-part typology of security claims described in his recent article, “Making Sense of Security.”9 This essay explores the importance of whose security matters to Heath's framework. It does so by examining one political movement currently challenging the U.S. national security state. This movement is led by members of groups targeted and disadvantaged by U.S. national security policies—namely, Muslim, African, Middle Eastern, and South Asian communities. In that movement's recently released policy agenda, Abolishing the War on Terror & Building Communities of Care: A Grassroots Policy Agenda for the Biden-Harris Administration and 117th Congress (Abolishing the War on Terror), 10 its leaders call for abolishing the national security state and the War on Terror that it birthed.11

International legal scholars have long been concerned with the transnational lawmaking process, including the development, interpretation, and implementation of international norms. Yet there has been insufficient attention devoted to the micro-level details by which international law operates. Anthropologists can shed unique insights to this process by uncovering power dynamics, disaggregating institutions and actors, and revealing local practices on the ground. In this essay, I will analyze global supply chain governance through an ethnographic lens in order to examine the role of corporate actors as translators of international law. I argue that an anthropological approach can illuminate how corporations shape international law in practice by uncovering technologies of governance, relations of power, and chains of translation in the transnational lawmaking process.

Our contribution to this symposium speaks to the origins of international organization (IO) reputation. The one explored by Daugirdas is agency slack: when people delegated power and authority within an organization—in her example, UN peacekeepers and their surrounding bureaucracy—abuse their privilege and stain the institution's character. We explore another that can spark similar reactions and consequences, but which emanates from the behavior of the principals themselves (rather than their agents): the member states. The company an IO keeps—how members behave—can bolster or stain the organization's reputation. That in turn can have consequences, especially for organizations seeking to provide a venue for members to make credible commitments.

In the past decades, Europe has been the site of multiple drug policy innovations and cannabis policy experimentation. Most of the policy reforms in this area are taking place at the national and subnational levels. They have not resulted from agreements or harmonization initiatives at the EU level, but rather from bottom-up adoption of cannabis policies and practices that deviate from punitive approaches. Cannabis regulation has been only marginally debated by European institutions and is not discussed in depth in any EU document. On the one hand, the diversity of European drug policies is a positive development: it serves as a policy laboratory and reflects adaptations to local contexts in light of drug market-related challenges. On the other hand, a greater EU consensus would be helpful for policy coordination and international engagement.

This essay takes up Karen Knop's challenge to reconstruct the oft-made distinction between private and public law by engaging private international law (PrIL) as a “lost side of international law.”1 To do so we interrogate the changing fortunes (literally) of women's private property rights in the long nineteenth century—a period characterized by the divestment and reinstatement of gendered rights in national law—focusing on the Nordics, Europe more broadly, and the Colonial world. Following Knop and other feminist legal scholars, and by engaging with questions of what Mariana Valverde calls “scale,”2 we bring women's property rights in conversation with international law. In doing so, we point to sites of engagement where the politico-economic structures of international law are lived, negotiated, reconfigured, and made real.3 We use scale to frame and inform our analysis bringing attention to how the “small” (micro) economics and politics of everyday life, women's labor, and gendered legal concerns, underpin and are an intrinsic part of the “large-scale” structures of international law. “All scales shifts,” Mariana Valverde notes, meaning that such “processes . . . br[ing] certain phenomena into focus that had previously been blurred or pushed to the background.”4 Recovering matters of women's history and everyday life, which, as Knop has argued are often “hiding in plain sight,” with a focus on women's property rights, brings to the fore the critical relationship between family/household, market, and the state, and the fundamental role international law has played in implementing a specific economic vision through the organization of gendered power relations.