It is the greatest honour for me to be invited to give the Wilberforce Lecture this year, on Lord Wilberforce's ninetieth birthday. In my generation, he has provided an inspiration for us all—an example which we may strive, but never succeed, to emulate. His brilliant intellect the modernity of his outlook, his capacity to look beyond the immediate problem to the more fundamental issues, his readiness to innovate—all coupled with a disarming informality of address—make him at the same time one of the most profound lawyers, and one of the most attractive men, of his generation. It is a privilege for me to have known him. I am his admiring, but still struggling, disciple.

In December 2004, Parliament's Joint Committee on Human Rights added its voice to the call for a greater parliamentary role in the making of treaties. In its report on Protocol No. 14 to the European Convention on Human Rights, the Joint Committee included a one-page chapter on ‘Increasing Parliament's involvement in the adoption of human rights treaties’, expressing the view that it was desirable for Parliament to become more involved prior to ratification on the grounds that effective parliamentary scrutiny would serve to ‘enhance the democratic legitimacy of human rights obligations incurred… by the Executive pursuant to the prerogative power.’1 Motivated by this concern, the Committee has undertaken, on its own initiative, an extensive review of the UK's treaty commitments in the human rights field with a view to securing greater parliamentary support for these obligations through the mechanism of public scrutiny.2

Since many offensive and defensive wars or acts of terrorism, such as the atrocities of 11 September in the United States and the July 2005 bombings in London, are committed under the banner of Islam and the duty of jihad, it is important to shed some light upon the Islamic laws of war in general, and the controversial concept of jihad in particular. This article traces the origins of, and rationale for, the use of force within the Islamic tradition, and assesses the meaning and evolution of the contentious concept of jihad within its historical context. Following an analysis of the opposing doctrinal views on the potential implications of jihad, the study argues that the concept of jihad should not be interpreted literally, but be adjusted in accordance with new historical and international conditions, and conducted by peaceful means, rather than by the sword.

This article proposes a model of treaty-based veil piercing for civil liability claims by victims of human rights harm inflicted by businesses. The primary inspiration for this model comes from investment treaty provisions dealing with corporate investors. Our examination of investment law for this purpose exposes the double standard in the treatment of the corporate veil between these two remedy regimes, and offers a way to address this. The test we propose for lifting the veil in order to allow victims to claim against the parent company in a corporate group is one of ‘legal control’. It aims to capture cases where the parent did not necessarily take an active role in the subsidiary's business, but it is still treated as being in control of the subsidiary by virtue of its direct or indirect ownership or ability to appoint management.

This article examines the applicability of the European Convention for Human Rights (ECHR) when a State loses control over parts of its territory. It argues that the jurisprudence of the European Court for Human Rights, which insists on residual positive obligations based in sovereign title over territory, is problematic and needs to be rethought. The Court's current approach is not only likely to provoke backlash, since it requires it to decide politically explosive questions of sovereign title, but does so for very little practical benefit for the protection of human rights. The article therefore explores more preferable alternatives.

The restoration of the pre-war property fights of displaced persons and refugees is critical to restore the peace.

This is particularly true for Bosnia and Herzegovina. The devastating impact of the war which ravaged Bosnia from 1992 until 1995 has left a third of the housing stock destroyed or otherwise uninhabitable. The systematic practice of ethnic cleansing forced Bosniacs, Croats and Serbs to seek shelter in areas of Bosnia and Herzegovina where their ethnic group was in the majority or to seek refuge abroad.1 More than half the 4.5 million the pre-war population of Bosnia and Herzegovina fled their homes in search of safety during the course of the war. According to recent estimates from the UN High Commissioner for Refugees, over 800,000 refugees from Bosnia and Herzegovina are still abroad today.2 Within Bosnia and Herzegovina, more than 800,000 people remain displaced from their pre-conflict homes.3

Recent international jurisprudence has shown considerable uncertainty with regard to the delimitation of the territorial sea. While international tribunals endorse a two-stage approach to territorial sea delimitation, there is a lack of judicial consensus on the practical implementation of such an approach. This article argues that the rule-exception relationship between equidistance and special circumstances, as reflected in the drafting history of LOSC Article 15 and in jurisprudence prior to 2007, should inform the delimitation of the territorial sea. Cases since 2007 which have strayed from the earlier jurisprudence on LOSC Article 15, should be seen as a misconstruction of the law applicable to territorial sea delimitation.

The concept of sovereignty plays too large a part in contemporary discussion. No nation is sovereign in the sense that it is free to do what it wants within its own borders and not subject to influences from outside. It is not self evident either that political systems have to be hierarchically organized or that there should be one final arbiter of law for all decisions. There are advantages in having different centres of power for decisions affecting differing matters. There is a case for the co-existence of overlapping power centres and for sharing in decision-making and being prepared to live with a decision which does not in itself reflect the wishes of your State. There are advantages in being part of a larger conglomerate. The State can then have some influence and control over what goes on outside its boundaries. There is no reason why that conglomerate should itself be a large sovereign State. The European Union offers the hope of transcending the sovereign State rather than simply replicating it in some new superstate. It may prove to be a model and an inspiration.

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.

[I]t is the transformation of custom into customary law—into something that State courts will recognize, enforce and require—that disrupts the continuity of the indigenous systems. In pre-colonial times … [the settlement of disputes] … depended … on the mutual processes of negotiation and compromise. There is no need to romanticize these processes…. But the important point in this context is that norms play a very different part in negotiations to that which they play in legal processes. They may be used to stake out negotiating positions as a starting point from which to proceed or as a sounding board as to the correct procedure in the cultural and symbolic sense, but they cannot be cited as rules or conditions that will be imposed.1

This article considers whether the 2005 Comprehensive Peace Agreement for the Sudan (the CPA) gives rise to binding obligations for the parties under international law. The legitimacy and effectiveness of the CPA, and the avoidance of a return to bloody civil war, depends significantly on the Agreement giving rise to legal obligations. While it has been held in arbitration that the CPA is not a treaty, this article suggests that it is a binding international agreement and further that there are obligations concerning the outstanding referendum for the people of the Abyei region. The legal issues of the CPA are more complex than they at first appear and they engage deeper and broader questions of the role of international law. The article will suggest among other things that the Sudan situation demonstrates it is difficult to draw immutable general rules in abstraction about the international law relating to peace agreements and to self-determination.

Taxonomy, as a methodological tool introduced from natural science, brought the categorization of legal systems to comparative law.1 The term ‘legal family’2 is normally used as a metaphor, because it recognizes that within each grouping there are many variations. Each of the legal families is regarded as a combination of fundamental features of legal systems which have certain similarities. As an analytical device, taxonomy renders the comparison of different laws and legal institutions manageable by means of simplifying or abstracting the diverse and complicated realities of a myriad of legal systems. As a result, the concept of legal families acts as a support for legal borrowing and transplantation, as well as comprising an inevitable part of most comparative law works. Even where as few as two jurisdictions are involved, the categorization of legal families is still a useful tool for most comparative legal analysis. Assisted by the notion of legal families, comparativists can readily understand and explore an unfamiliar legal system.3 Normally, such scholars tend to accept the conventional or widely accepted categorization of a particular legal system as belonging to a certain legal family. However, without detailed scrutiny of the first-hand material, distortions may arise as a result of preconceptions held at the beginning of the comparative study.4