I remember reading that it’s possible for babies to ‘inherit’ a susceptibility to stress from their mothers, if their mothers are suffering from PTSD while the baby is in the womb.

I’m wondering whether the massive over-use of fire-doors in London has a similar cause.

In virtually every building I’ve been in here in London, there has been an over-abundance of large, swinging doors – confusingly some are designed to operate in either direction, whilst others are fixed. In fact, I can’t move more than 10 metres at university before running into an oversized and heavy door, reminding there that it is there “in case of fire”.

While these doors made me feel a tad safer while reading World War Z (I’m sure my apartment in the Barbican is perhaps the safest place to be when the zombies attack), I’m wondering why Londoners are so worried about fire doors while we in Melbourne are so naive as to have entirely open-plan offices and doorless corridors festooning our office buildings.

Maybe 340 years just isn’t enough time for London to forget its Great Fire, or maybe each generation has inherited a predisposition to fire-door-building. Though I could be entirely incorrect, anyone know when fire-doors began springing up in the UK capital?

photo credit: La Niña Graphics

After beginning to understand what transnational law is all about, I guess the next question is why are we bothering to think about it at all.

There are a number of reasons transnational law is relevant for ‘domestic’ lawyers. For example, lawmakers are often inspired by how other countries deal with problems – see, eg, the influence of UK anti-terror legislation around the world. Courts can also use foreign law (though more controversially) in various ways when applying similar domestic/constitutional/internationally inspired provisions – see, eg, the discussion of US norms in Australian constitutional cases.

What I found quite interesting, however, is the increasing need for transnational law and transnational lawyers due to an increase in transnational transactions.

As NGOs, business and civil society spread their operations across countries and into strange legal spaces (crossing borders and jurisdictions), the law has necessarily had to play catch up and work out what law applies and how the law works when applied to these novel (though increasingly less so) transactions.

With companies now ‘based’ in one country, manufacturing goods in another, and selling into yet another, and terrorism increasingly requiring a co-ordinated transnational response, we’ve really had no other choice but to start thinking transnationally – with often quite interesting results.

The judgement isn’t out yet, but EJIL:Talk! reports that Florence Hartmann has been found guilty of contempt by an ICTY Trial Chamber for disclosing information that was protected by an order of an ICTY Chamber.

This was a particularly controversial case – Hartmann used to work as a spokesman for the ICTY Prosecutor, there were some issues involving the rights of States, and the information that she disclosed, in a book and an article, was argued to be already in the public domain. The Chamber seems to have disagreed – finding that the information was not in the public domain and fining her €7,000.

From the looks of the summary of the judgement, it likes like the ICTY is continuing down a very strict reading of the Rules in relation to contempt, that lowers the bar for contempt prosecutions. While, as noted by Kevin Heller at Opinio Juris, “There is no question that Hartmann knowingly violated Tribunal rules”, should this be enough to justify a finding of contempt?

Rule 77 of both Tribunals states that “The Tribunal in the exercise of its inherent power may hold in contempt those who knowingly and wilfully interfere with its administration of justice” (it also provides some examples of actions that can result in a finding of contempt, including disclosure of information in contravention of an order).

Following Margetic, Jovic, Haxiu and Nobilo, and mostly recently Nshogoza, the Tribunals have taken a very strict approach to this rule.

Beginning by establishing that a ‘mere’ a violation of a court order is an interference with the administration of justice, Chambers have gone on to say that this means that the mens rea for contempt is satisfied by the deliberate violation of a court order – all the Prosecution needs to prove is that the person committed the act deliberately and not accidentally, this is enough to show the person was also trying to interfere with the administration of justice.

I think that this approach is valid legally, but from a policy perspective is it really fair?

First of all, it is not clear to me that just because someone violates a court order they necessarily are “knowingly and wilfully” interfering with the administration of justice. It is conceivable that while a person knows their action violates a court order (and therefore interferes with the administration of justice), at the same time their intent (or will) was not to do so. For example, Hartmann’s disclosure, while technically in breach of a court order, was arguably not done with an intent to interfere with the administration of justice given she believed the information to already be in the public domain (whether or not it actually was is another question).

More problematic though, Nshogoza appears to say that even if the person violating the court order believed that their actions were legal, this would not excuse their breach. While ‘ignorance of the law is no excuse’, when a Rule requires knowledge and intent it would appear that the state of mind of the accused is of the utmost importance.

Finally, just as the Appeals Chamber has found that Chambers should be using their power to sanction counsel for frivolous motions cautiously, I would argue that Rule 77 should be reserved only for cases that meet a requisite level of ’seriousness’. While perhaps not a legal argument, though there are some ICTR Trial decisions supporting this idea, it would mean less wasting of the Tribunals’ time and resources, a system perceived to be fairer in regards to punishment and perhaps less allegations of ‘vindictive’ prosecutions (See also Bill Schabas he would prefer national courts deal with these contempt cases as opposed to the Tribunals).

Nshogoza is currently on appeal, and the Hartmann judgement is yet to be issued, so it will be interesting to see how the law in this area is actually developing.

So I’m almost three weeks in to studies at the Centre for Transnational Legal Studies here in London and the question has already come up a number of times – what exactly is that you are studying there?

Things are only just starting, but here’s a brief of summary of how it’s turning out.

First, it’s a lot of comparative law (or at least critiquing comparative law). In the core, compulsory unit, we have delved head first into how legal scholars classify and compare legal systems and how law is ‘transplanted/exported/shared’ between jurisdictions. The big debate has been the appropriateness of using ‘foreign law’ (by judges particularly), when and how it can be used and by whom.

Second, so far at least, it isn’t really about international law. In the subjects I’ve selected, the only convention we study is the Convention on Contracts for the International Sale of Goods (though in the first two days we also did a practice exercise using the New York Convention). It has generally been a lot more about conflict (choice) of law issues and abstract legal theory; a mix between comparing jurisdictions and working out how transactions would across jurisdictions.

Third, a lot of what we are learning is from each other. By throwing 71 different students together from universities all over the world CTLS is hoping to teach us a lot about other legal cultures just by having us work together and argue over different approaches. It is actually quite interesting when students and lecturers from different countries start debating and seeing cultures clash in the class room. The difference in educational culture alone is fascinating.

During my first week here I was distracted by a big essay I had due, I’m slowly now getting used to how things work at Swan House in London. There’s been some thought provoking material so far, so hopefully, some of it will make its way here too.

The Associate Legal Officer (ALO) is the general entry point into Chambers at the ICTR. It is described as a “P-2″ position by the United Nations requires you to be admitted to practice, have two years of experience and a law degree.

Beyond those relatively simple requirements, the ALOs I’ve met have had a variety of different backgrounds here at the ICTR. Some are UN employees fresh from non-legal work in other UN agencies, others are doing post-graduate study and quite a few are ex-corporate (or taking a sabbatical from their firm).

From what I can gather here are a few tips on paid employment in Chambers at the ICTR:

• Internships help. A lot of the ALOs here have previously done an internship at the Tribunal. I’m not sure what the crossover rate is from the ICTY, but doing a good job on an internship at the ICTR can open lots of doors to people and opportunities for paid work. That said, there are also ALOs here who have no experience at international tribunals/courts, so it’s definitely not determinative.
• Corporate experience is great. While at university we can often create a stark divide between “corporate law” and the “non-private sector”, but in Chambers plenty of the ALOs have come from corporate jobs, in areas like IP, dispute resolution or banking, and some are even going straight back to their corporate jobs when they finish here. Corporate law gives you valuable training and experience in dealing with “the law”, even if its not substantive international criminal law. Not to mention being forced to work to real world deadlines and being forced to develop your people skills. So no need to ’sculpt’ your CV to make it look “anti-corporate”.
• Get admitted. One thing that is clear is the importance of being admitted in some domestic jurisdiction. And it’ll make your life a lot easier if you get it done sooner rather than later. Not only is it required for certain legal job opportunities at the ICTR, but it means that you “really are a lawyer” when applying for jobs, even if the job ads don’t specifically mention admission.
• Post-grad study recommended. While its definitely not a requirement to getting a job, it seems that most ALOs, and more senior staff, have either already done some post-graduate study or are planning to soon. International criminal law is one of those areas where post-graduate study is definitely “strongly recommended” as it develops your substantive knowledge of an area of law and you can significantly contribute to the existing scholarship based on your experience of working in the law. So in many ways, study and work at the ICTR are a natural mix.

These tips are purely based on my personal observations, so let me know in the comments if I’m totally off-base or have missed out on a crucial piece of advice. Also, I have no idea how relevant these are for any institution apart from the ICTR. And don’t forget, with the two ad hoc closing “in the near future…” jobs are hypothetically going to get a lot scarcer with more competition.

I don’t have time to post much at the moment, combination of wrestling with Centrelink over Youth Allowance and university studies are getting me down, but I just wanted to briefly mention Melbourne Op Shop Tours – a new tour company set up by a few friends of mine – Jess, Jenny & Richmond.

It’s a tour company with a difference – they take you on tours around the Op Shop (Thrift Store) hot spots around Melbourne to help you find a bargain in recycled clothing. Op Shop fashion is massive at the moment and a good ‘eco-friendly’ and inexpensive way to shop.

I think this sounds like a very interesting idea and look forward to seeing how they go. First tour starts this weekend (special opening offer of $25 per person) and include a public transport trip around Melbourne’s Op Shops, styling tips from Jess & Jenny and tips on how to maximise your op shopping.

Book via the website if you’re interested.

A quick post because I’m currently sunning myself in southern Italy trying not to think about a university essay that needs writing.

My six months in Arusha are now over, and Clare and I are almost in London (although with nowhere to stay yet). The ICTR was amazing, hopefully I’ll post more on that in the future depending on how crazy school work is. And CTLS looks like it will be very exciting (but busy) – it’ll be nice to be studying again.

Currently we are visiting friends in Lecce, Italy. We get back to London the day before classes (bad planning on my part) and have a few house inspections lined up. Plus I’ve got less than a fortnight to make my paper on frivolous motions at the ICTR shine (any suggestions?).

If you’re in London, let me know and, if I’m not too stressed out, we can meet up for a coffee. We’ll be there until December.

Ciao!

One of the last things I did before leaving Melbourne, all the way back in March, was to get a quick haircut. It was literally a few minutes before heading out the door for the airport that I sat down and got a quick buzzcut – number two all over.

Unfortuneately, due to the rush, it wasn’t exactly the best haircut I’d ever received and so I’ve been wrestling with a head of uneven hair ever since.

image source: willpate
So today I found a local hairdresser (and masseuse according to the sign on the door) and got a haircut.

I walked in, asked “Shillingi ngupi?” and was told it would cost about AU$5 for a haircut. Though I’m a terrible bargainer I had been told that I shouldn’t pay more than AU$3, and around AU$2 is a reasonable price. So I offered AU$3 – which he immediately accepted. I probably could have gone for AU$2, but I’m a terrible bargainer and didn’t want the man holding the scissors to have any feelings of resentment towards me.

When my German friend attempted to get a haircut here in Arusha the lady was too shocked that a mzungu would even ask for a haircut to do anything. She shook her head and told him “No, I can’t!” He offered her money but she still said no and when he asked her where he could go for a haircut she said that no-one in Arusha could cut his hair! He somehow managed to convince her to try and she took out her scissors and warily snipped one lock of his hair. She then returned the scissors to her belt observed her handiwork cautiously before withdrewing them for another attempt.

Needless to say not much of his hair was cut during that expedition (despite it costing him AU$10).

My hair cut was a rather different affair. The barber fluffed up my crazy mixed-race hair and expertly removed the lot of it. It seems that barbers here specialise in the buzzcut – the few mzungus that have gotten their hair cut here have all returned with a faux-military look.

I think my barber might have been a bit surprised when he started cutting my hair as even though my skin is darker then the average mzungu, my hair left Africa a long time ago. Not only are my genes a motely arrangement of German/French/British/Zulu, but my youthful experimentation with hair straighteners hasn’t been too kind on my follicles.

We had a few hiccups as my hair jammed up his buzzer, but, apart from his inability to remove my sideburns, I think it came out looking all right. Although I don’t think I’ll be posting photos anytime soon.

Sitting in the ICTR office for the past six months I’ve got to see a lot of interns come and go, and for all sorts of reasons. I’ve been thinking, and sometimes we fit into some pretty good stereotypes. I’ve listed some of them here: