This article makes two main propositions about the role of due diligence in international law, in response to recent interest in the topic. First, a legal requirement to exercise due diligence may be a component part of a primary rule of international law, but this can only be determined by referring back to the primary rule in question (eg what degree of fact-finding does treaty provision X require a State party to that treaty to undertake, either explicitly or implicitly, to act consistently with its terms?). In other words, there is no ‘general principle of due diligence’ in international law. Second, States undertake what could be characterised as ‘due diligence’ activity (eg by introducing policy guidance for their officials), some elements of which may be a result of a legal requirement and some of which may not (eg where done solely for policy reasons). Current practice of the United Kingdom and United States is used to illustrate the point. The lack of a distinction between the ‘legal’ and ‘non-legal’ elements of conduct in a given area gives States the flexibility to act without feeling unduly constrained by international law, and at the same time actually promotes compliance with international law and may assist in its development over time. In contrast, pushing for a ‘general principle of due diligence’ in international law is unnecessary, and risks having a chilling effect on this positive legal/policy ‘due diligence’ behaviour by States.

Four years following the entry into force of the EU data protection framework (the GDPR) serious questions remain regarding its enforcement, particularly in transnational contexts. While this transnational under-enforcement is often attributed to the role of key national authorities in the GDPR's procedures, this article identifies more systemic flaws. It examines whether the GDPR procedures are deficient-by-design and, if not, how these flaws might be addressed. The conclusions reached inform our understanding of how to secure effective protection of the EU Charter right to data protection. They are also of significance to EU law enforcement more generally given the increasing prevalence of composite decision-making as the mechanism of choice to administer EU law.

Recent years have witnessed significant developments in international human rights law relating to domestic violence. No longer viewed as a matter ‘essentially within the domestic jurisdiction of the State’, domestic violence now frequently commands the attention of international human rights bodies. The obligations imposed on States include positive obligations of due diligence to prevent, investigate and to punish domestic violence, whenever and wherever it occurs.1 Judicial dialogue across the borders of human rights and refugee law has also expanded access to asylum for women fleeing domestic violence, bringing with it a gradual recognition of the positive obligations that international law now imposes on States. However, as recent cases such as Jessica Gonzalez v the United States2 and Opuz v Turkey3 reveal, significant gaps remain between the rhetoric of human rights law and the reality of everyday enforcement and implementation on the ground. These gaps are most keenly felt by refugee women. While State practice suggests greater gender inclusivity and sensitivity in the practice of refugee law, women fleeing domestic violence continue to face obstacles in making their claims heard.

This article examines the legacy of the ground-breaking judgment in Aydin v Turkey in which the European Court of Human Rights held that rape could constitute torture. Ten years on, it examines jurisprudential developments in the conceptualisation of torture in the specific context of the offence of rape. It is argued that while all rapes should be found to satisfy the minimum threshold for Article 3, rape does not per se satisfy the severity of harm criterion for torture. Nonetheless, where the severity of harm is established, the case is made that the purposive element of torture is satisfied in all cases of rape. Finally, in relation to the scope of State responsibility for rape, particularly by private individuals, the article suggests that while the Court's achievements in recognizing rape as a serious harm are considerable, there remain further avenues for jurisprudential development which would ensure that rape as a form of torture is recognized in a wider range of situations and circumstances than is currently the case.

Though generally uncontroversial in England, the rules on pleading and proof of foreign law are nevertheless of interest from the comparative point of view by reason of the diversity of approaches found in different European countries. There is, moreover, a feeling on the part of some Continental lawyers that the English rules undermine the objectives of international and EU initiatives on conflict of laws and that the United Kingdom does not, therefore, fully carry out its international and EU obligations in this regard. These accusations have been levelled in particular with regard to the Rome Convention.1 In view of this, a comparative study of the different approaches in the main European countries might be timely; it might also provide an appropriate background for an examination of the question whether the Rome Convention requires any modification of the traditional English approach.

This article explores how a procedural approach in the case law of the ECtHR combines subsidiarity and progressive development of international obligations. Rather than constituting a simple retreat from substantive commitments, it renders the obligations of Conventions States more flexible and has the potential to enhance the democratic legitimacy of the Court's rulings. This article first sets out various aspects of proceduralization in international human rights law. This is followed by a discussion of how procedural approaches are linked to subsidiarity. In the case law of the ECtHR, procedural approaches facilitate dynamic evolution, both in the practice of Convention States (analytic or bottom-up approach) or by the Court itself (constructive or top-down approach). This interaction of the procedural approach and arguments based on European Consensus allows the ECtHR and domestic institutions to fulfil their ‘shared responsibility’ for the effective protection of human rights in Europe.

Article 21(3) of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (Rome Statute)1 provides that the International Criminal Court must consider ‘internationally recognized human rights’ in its interpretation and application of applicable law. This article highlights the difficulty of meaningfully interpreting this reference to ‘internationally recognized human rights’ in accordance with the ordinary rules of treaty interpretation. These interpretative difficulties lead the article to adopt a practical focus, examining the initial jurisprudence of the Court utilizing this aspect of article 21(3), concluding that although such jurisprudence reveals a number of shortcomings, the provision's tremendous potential as a tool of evolution and innovation is evident.

Protection of privacy is one of the areas most often claimed as having the potential for significant development as a result of incorporation of the European Convention on Human Rights (“the Convention”). As is well known, English law lacks a general remedy for infringement of privacy per se: although the courts have lamented the lack of protection for private individuals (notably from the press), they have hitherto left it to Parliament to intervene. After flirtation with introducing either a specific statutory code applicable to intrusive journalistic activities or a general statutory tort of infringement of privacy, the Conservative government abandoned the idea altogether.1 Perhaps because of the lack of legislative concern (politicians, after all, have reasons of strong self-interest not to provoke the press), the judiciary has expressed renewed interest, at least through extra-judicial pronouncements2 and broad hints in one recent House of Lords decision that the time for reconsideration may be fast approaching.3

The use of terror to separate the ethnic groups in Bosnia and Herzegovina was a deeply tragic episode, with devastating effects on the lives of millions of people. Although the Dayton Agreement of December 1995 has brought a fragile peace to Bosnia and Herzegovina, it has done so at the cost of the division of its territory, its population and almost every aspect of civil life along ethnic lines. Two years into the peace process, the progress of return of refugees and displaced persons has been extremely disappointing. More than two million people—almost half the population—are still dispossessed of their homes. Some 600,000 of these are refugees abroad who have not yet found durable solutions, many of whom face the prospect of compulsory return into displacement within Bosnia and Herzegovina in the near future. Another 800,000 have been internally displaced to areas in the control of their own ethnic group, living in multiple occupancy situations, in collective centres or in property vacated by the displacement of others, often in situations of acute humanitarian concern. The fundamental issue for the future of the postwar society of Bosnia and Herzegovina is whether these people can or will return to their homes.

What do we know about the role of legal systems as determinants of the location of foreign direct investment (FDI)? The short answer to this question is: not enough.1 In recent decades, most governments have come to believe that FDI is an important source of the capital and technology necessary for economic development, and to seek new ways to induce foreign investors to locate within their jurisdiction.2 Commentators and development agencies regularly argue or imply that FDI flows are to some extent determined by the effectiveness of the host State's legal system.3 That is, it is suggested that the manner in which laws are implemented in a State can act as a deterrent or an attraction to potential foreign investors.4

This article considers the significance of the UK Takeover Code's non-frustration prohibition. It asks to what extent the prohibition actually prevents post-bid, director-controlled defences that would not have been, in any event, either formally prohibited by UK company law without share-holder approval or practically ineffective as a result of the basic UK company law rule set. It finds that there would be minimal scope for director-deployed defences in the absence of the non-frustration prohibition, and that, in the context of UK company law, such defences have limited scope to be deployed for entrenchment purposes. Furthermore, this minimal scope for board defensive action would, in order to be compliant with a director's duties, require a pre-bid, shareholder-approved alteration to the UK's default constitutional balance of power between the board and the shareholder body to allow corporate powers to be used for defensive effect. In light of this conclusion the article looks for a rationale to justify denying shareholders the right to make this limited and potentially beneficial defensive election. It concludes that no persuasive rationale is available and that the prohibition is unnecessary and without justification.

The protection offered to individuals by remedies in public law and tort law is developing in all jurisdictions. The past few years have witnessed an increasingly important European dimension to the tort liability of public authorities. European Union law and European Human Rights law have added to the constitutional protection of tort claims against public authorities already established as a matter of domestic law in many European countries.

As the European Court of Human Rights has come to qualify the privilege against self-incrimination and the right of silence in recent decisions, this article argues that the Court has failed to provide a convincing rationale for these rights. It is claimed that within the criminal process the right of silence should be distinguished from the privilege against self-incrimination and given enhanced effect in order to uphold the protective and participatory rights of the defence which come into play when a suspect is called upon to answer criminal allegations.

The policy decision to replace the United Nations (UN) Commission on Human Rights (CHR) with a new UN Human Rights Council (HRC) was taken by governments at the September 2005 World Summit and adopted as a General Assembly (GA) resolution on 15 March 2006.1 This brought an end to the CHR's chequered 60-year history.2 The membership, structure and aims and procedures of the new HRC underwent months of intense discussion between States in the lead up to the adoption of this resolution. The purpose of this note is to explain the various proposals explored in the shaping of the HRC and the extent to which the resolution bringing it into being responded to weaknesses perceived in the CHR. Since almost every reference to the CHR came to be prefaced by the term ‘discredited’ since 2005, the question is to what extent the reasons for the loss of legitimacy in the CHR were actually addressed in the crafting of the new HRC.