Freedom from fear, expressly recognized in the foundational human rights treaties, has been forgotten in human rights discourse. Fear can have profound behavioural impacts. Without recognition of the importance of freedom from fear, the fulfilment of many human rights is compromised, particularly physical security. Politico-legal thought, from Montesquieu and Blackstone, has long identified the significance of security of the person and the tension between liberty and security. Comparative exploration of contemporary case law reveals disparate approaches to the recognition of security of the person as an individual right which the State is obliged to protect. Increasing the salience of security of the person and the dimension of freedom from fear in human rights decision making raises the difficult issue of balancing conflicting rights.

After the Court of Appeal decision in Radmacher v Granatino, the question whether English law should introduce enforceable pre-nuptial or marital property agreements came into focus again. Taking the decision as a starting point, the article argues in favour of introducing such agreements. Adopting a comparative approach, the article explains how such agreements are used in Germany and demonstrates that the idea of private autonomy, which has been regarded as the basis of pre-nuptial property agreements in Germany since the 19th century, can explain why couples should be allowed to make their own decisions with respect to the financial consequences of the breakdown of their relationship. Analysis of the different notions of contract in German and English law as well as comparing marriage with partnerships and other long-term contractual relationships illustrates not only the historical reasons why such agreements have not been allowed so far, but also helps to understand what safeguards the legislator and the judiciary could apply to ensure that parties do not abuse their freedom.

International soft law as a legal metaphor has become part of legal discourse. The author argues not only that the term itself is misleading and contradictory, but that the terminological problem indicates deeper doctrinal difficulties which soft law theories should overcome. Identifying two main streams of these theories, the article provides a short review of the fundamental arguments for the existence of soft law. It distinguishes between two lines of arguments, ie functional arguments and proximity arguments, evaluates their coherence and explanatory power, and finds that these arguments fail to lay a coherent and persuasive foundation for international soft law. The author concludes by pointing out that non-legal norms may have essential regulatory functions in international relations but the law and non-law distinction should be maintained, and separating soft law as a distinct category is unwarranted.

As the global financial crisis threatens to manifest in enhanced protectionism, the economic irrationality of dumping, countervailing, and global safeguard measures (so-called ‘trade remedies’) should be of increased concern to the Members of the World Trade Organization (‘WTO’). Long tolerated under the WTO agreements and perhaps a necessary evil to facilitate multilateral trade liberalization, elimination of trade remedies is far from the agenda of WTO negotiators. However, a small number of regional trade agreements offer a model for reducing the use of trade remedies among WTO Members in the longer term, consistent with WTO rules and broader public international law.

This article draws attention to an important but neglected story about the dissemination of German and Swiss state-theories among English-speaking scholars in the second half of the 19th century and the influence of these ideas on those who designed and drafted the Australian Constitution. In particular, the article focuses upon the theories of federalism developed by the Swiss-born scholar, Johann Caspar Bluntschli, and the Saxon-born Georg Jellinek, and explains their influence, via the British historian, Edward A Freeman, and the American political scientist, John W Burgess, upon the framers of the Australian Constitution. The story is important because it illustrates the way in which constitutional ideas can be transmitted from one social and political context into a very different one, undergoing significant, though often subtle, modifications and adaptations in the process. The story is also important because it sheds light on the way in which the framers of the Australian Constitution came to conceive of the kind of federal system that they wished to see created. The story seems to have been overlooked, however, not only due to a general neglect of the intellectual history of the Australian Constitution, but also due to the assumption that prevailing Australian political and legal ideas were of Anglo-American provenance. While this assumption generally holds true, a closer examination of the intellectual context of Australian federalism reveals a surprisingly significant German influence on the framers of the Australian Constitution.

The global financial crisis has served to highlight serious weaknesses in global governance, revealing fault lines in the international financial architecture and its accompanying regulatory apparatus. Most glaringly, the spotlight has fallen on Credit Rating Agencies (CRAs)—key governance agencies in the pre-crisis domestic and international regulatory structures, and ones directly linked to the subprime mortgage debacle. The aim of this article is to provide a critical appraisal of CRAs as a mechanism of global governance in the light of their role in the subprime mortgage debacle and to evaluate the case for stricter regulation of CRAs. In this respect, special emphasis is placed on the recent EU attempt—by way of a new Regulation on Credit Rating Agencies—to bring rating agencies within the regulatory fold. It is argued that while the EU Regulation has serious implications for the operation of CRAs within the Community, the reform measure is potentially illustrative of a growing dissonance between EU and US responses to global governance issues more generally.

‘[Securitisation led to the belief among many that] poor quality assets … assembled as a portfolio … could somehow by alchemy be converted into something stronger than they were’.1

‘The crap had become cake.’2

‘In January 2008, there were 12 triple A-rated companies in the world. At the same time, there were 64,000 structured finance instruments, like CDO tranches, rated triple A.’3

For over 15 years, the reports of the EEA Agreement's imminent demise have proven to be greatly exaggerated. In this article it is argued that a great deal of the credit for this accomplishment is due to the EFTA Court. Through a distinctly dynamic approach to the Agreement, the EFTA Court has been able to convince an initially sceptical ECJ that the goal of extending the internal market to include the EFTA States is actually achievable. For the EFTA States, the consequence is a more ‘supranational’ EEA Agreement than originally conceived. Further, it is shown that the EFTA Court appears, in hard cases, to lean even further towards teleological (ie integrationist) interpretation than the ECJ. It is suggested that this may be due to to structural imbalances between the two EEA courts, the EFTA Court's desire to prove its independence from the EFTA States and its quest for recognition from the ECJ.

The Revised Treaty of Chaguaramas (‘the RTC’) is an attempt on the part of a group of Caribbean States to respond in a collective manner to the pressing challenges posed by the forces of globalization and liberalization. The RTC seeks, inter alia, to deepen regional economic integration through the establishment of a Caribbean Community (‘CARICOM’) including a CARICOM Single Market and Economy (‘CSME’). The States in question—Antigua & Barbuda, The Bahamas, Barbados, Belize, Dominica, Grenada, Guyana, Haiti, Jamaica, Montserrat, St Kitts and Nevis, Saint Lucia, St Vincent and the Grenadines, Suriname and Trinidad & Tobago—are for the most part former British colonies that gained their independence in the 1960s and 1970s. The RTC signals yet another important step in the tortuous path taken by these Anglophone Caribbean States ‘to avoid the looming threat of marginalization’1 following the failure in 1962 of the West Indies Federation.2 Significantly, this latest step is being taken side by side with the non English speaking civil law States of Haiti and Suriname thereby adding a new and interesting dimension to the integration process.

A rule of customary international law is binding upon all States. One controversial question is whether a State should be permitted not to be bound by such a rule in the event that it objected to it in the early stage of its formation and did so constantly thereafter. This is the theory of the ‘persistent objector’. Articles recently published about the theory focus on its specific application in different areas of international law, including international investment law,1 international humanitarian law2 and human rights law.3 The present article intends to examine the concept of persistent objector in general international law.4

As a precursor to the United Kingdom's ratification of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (ICC) in 2001, the respective Parliaments in the UK adopted two Acts to implement the obligations that treaty imposed on the UK, and to implement the international crimes, as defined in that treaty, into the law of the UK. When the International Criminal Court Act (ICC Act) was being debated in 2001, Baroness Scotland, speaking for the Government, explained that part of the raison d'etre of the Act was that the UK ought not to be seen as a safe haven for international criminals. However, in line with article 11 of the Rome Statute, the jurisdiction of UK courts over such offences, insofar as they were not already covered by the Geneva Conventions Act 1957 and the Genocide Act 1969 (the latter of which was repealed by the ICC Act) only applied prospectively.

This short article considers the two primary legal frameworks that can operate to control decisions by a State, in this case the UK, to deploy troops to conflict or post-conflict zones—British constitutional law and international law, and how they have both been thrown into sharp relief by the continuing debate about the possible adoption by the House of Commons of a non-statutory war powers resolution.

The last two years have witnessed a flurry of diplomatic activity on climate change. In addition to the 16 weeks of scheduled inter-governmental negotiations under the auspices of the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (FCCC), meetings, many at a Ministerial level, were convened by the G-8, the Major Economies Forum, the UN Secretary General, and Denmark, the host of the 15th Conference of Parties (COP-15) to the FCCC. Notwithstanding regular and intense engagement at the highest-level many fundamental disagreements remained in the lead up to COP-15, including on the future (or lack thereof) of the Kyoto Protocol, the legal form and architecture of the future legal regime, and the nature and extent of differential treatment between developed and developing countries.

What happens when a European State breaches its international obligations and then ceases to exist? Does its obligation to repair the harm caused by the breach devolve to a new state that occupies part of the territory of an old state? When will a new European State be held accountable for violations that took place before the entry into force of a human rights treaty? This comment examines the European Court of Human Rights' (hereinafter ‘the Court’ or ‘the ECtHR’) encounter with the law of state succession, specifically succession to treaty obligations and succession to responsibility for the wrongful acts of a predecessor state. In Bijelic v Montenegro and Serbia the Court held that Montenegro was to be automatically regarded as a party to the Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms (hereinafter ‘the Convention’), as well as Protocol No 1 thereto, from the date of its declaration of independence from the State Union of Serbia and Montenegro (hereinafter ‘the State Union’), and that Montenegro alone could be held responsible for violations of these instruments occurring in the territory of the State Union that began before March 2004 (the date of ratification of the Convention and Protocol 1 by the State Union) but continuing through 2009. Bijelic is not the first time the Court has been called upon to decide a question of succession to treaty obligations or responsibility, but the judgment is noteworthy for the unique approach the Court adopted to deciding both of these issues. This comment will place the decision in the larger context of Court practice with respect to both of the implicated succession issues, identify the aspects the Trial Chamber's analysis that distinguish it from its predecessors and discuss the decision of the Court in light of general and emerging trends in international law. In the process, this comment will provide a uniquely thorough examination of ECtHR practice with respect to succession to responsibility and identify the trends, to the extent that such trends exist, that characterize the Court's approach to this area of law.

On 29 March 2010, the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR), sitting as a Grand Chamber, delivered its Judgment in the Medvedyev v France case, which involved the interdiction and the exercise of enforcement jurisdiction over a drug smuggling vessel on the high seas. The case was referred by both the applicants and the Respondent State to the Grand Chamber, following the Judgment of a Chamber of the Fifth Section of the Court, on 10 July 2008. The Grand Chamber accepted this referral and the public hearing took place on 6 May 2009. This decision is of considerable importance as one of the very few decisions of the Strasbourg Court which has touched upon issues pertaining to the law of the sea, let alone to interdiction of vessels on the high seas, and the only case to have found a violation of the Convention on the part of the interdicting State, namely France.