Watch interview given to Capital FM Radio here and follow the story here
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Al Bashir arrest warrant judgement by Kenyan High Court bad in law
The brief post below appeared as an op ed in the Kenyan daily, Standard on 18th December 2011. See here
The judgement by Justice Ombija issuing an order of arrest against President Al Bashir of Sudan has been subject of contestation for several weeks now. I only offer a brief scholarly critique of the judgement in light of my own reading of the law, which is that the judge erred in law: the judge was wrong to issue the order. To summarise Judge Ombija’s decision, he says that Kenya has an obligation to arrest Al Bashir because we ratified the Rome Statute, passed a law domesticating it and have in any case a Constitution that applies every treaty ratified by Kenya as part of our law.
But, can the applicants, ICJ-Kenya actually apply for an arrest warrant as they did? I have difficulty identifying what basis they were allowed to address the court on substance. Under the International Crimes Act that domesticates the Rome Statute, only the Minister can approach the High Court for an arrest warrant. Under our law, there are only two possibilities for a private citizen to come to court on this matter: for judicial review asking the court to issue orders compelling the Minister to approach the court for a warrant, or rely on the generous provisions on standing in the constitution by alleging that the constitution, in particular the bill of rights has been violated. Neither of this was done by the ICJ. In short, the judge improperly allowed a private citizen to act as the Minister.
According to the judgement, the crucial link between Kenya’s obligations to the ICC and the duty Al Bashir to arrest is universal jurisdiction. According to the judge’s reading of this principle, any state can arrest, prosecute or extradite anyone who commits an international crime anywhere. The problem with this view is twofold. First, with utmost respect to the judge, a discussion of universal jurisdiction on which he bases his decision should never have been conducted because it is irrelevant: the Rome Statute does not include universal jurisdiction. In my view, the judgement can fall on this score alone.
Secondly, although the judge discusses universal jurisdiction at length and he is broadly right on the principle, he does not consider or discuss the fact that current case law — all of it developed by leading Western courts — is that a sitting head of state is immune from arrest or prosecution by national courts abroad. I argue — again with utmost respect to the judge — that he only arrives at the conclusion that Kenya has an obligation to arrest by considering arguments that should not be relevant to the discussion, but more crucially, by not considering the most crucial issue. This central issue, on the basis of which the warrant issue should be resolved — and on which his decision stands or falls — is regrettably not dealt with by the judge.
The issue is: even when there is an ICC arrest warrant, can a sitting head of state be arrested abroad and handed over the ICC? The judge simply says in a couple of lines that no one benefits from immunity in respect of the ICC. Although he doesn’t cite the provision, this position is represented in article 27(2) of the Rome Statute. It is true that the ICC can indict anyone. However, it is not the correct approach to base Kenya’s obligation to arrest on article 27. If the Rome Statute forms part of our law, one must go on to see what else the Rome Statute says. The judge correctly does that, but he stops at article 91 and 92 which regulate procedure for arrest. By doing that, the judge misses the fact that a sitting head of state is subject to a different procedure of arrest, under article 98(1).
My reading of article 98(1) — which is not uncontroversial — is that because under international law of diplomatic relations and state immunity a sitting head of state ordinarily enjoys immunity from the actions of foreign organs of state — including the Judiciary — a Kenyan court can only properly order arrest of Al Bashir if one of three things exist: Sudan waives his immunity (through national law) or he is removed from office or Kenya removes its recognition of him as the legitimate Sudanese President. The cases of Milosevic of the former Yugoslavia, Charles Taylor of Liberia, and former Ivorian strongman Laurent Gbagbo who now sits in a cell in The Hague months after leaving office all support this view. Until there is a new rule of international law — introduced perhaps by an amendment of the Rome Statute, saying a sitting head of state indicted by the ICC can be picked up when visiting a foreign nation, we are stuck with what we have. It is for this reason that I fault the ICC judges’ ruling made several days ago on this issue (a decision involving Malawi’s refusal to arrest Al Bashir), which I will address, in a future post. However, I have serious doubts that a rule allowing arrest of a sitting head of state will emerge soon. The immunity enjoyed by heads of state and foreign ministers when traveling abroad to conduct diplomacy for their nations — is one of a handful of rules that form the cornerstone of the international system. I cannot visualise a different world — other than an anarchic one — where the legal equality of states did not exist.
My interpretation of article 98 of the Rome Statute does not mean a President cannot be tried: we just have to wait until he/she leaves office. Gbagbo is now in The Hague, seven months after his ouster. Too bad if a country is not a democracy or if — as is the case in Sudan – other states are unwilling, because of their national interests, to remove recognition of the sitting head of state that would enable them arrest him without breaching international law. Right now, resolution of the Bashir issue does not lie in the law: it is political.
The judgement by Justice Ombija issuing an order of arrest against President Al Bashir of Sudan has been subject of contestation for several weeks now. I only offer a brief scholarly critique of the judgement in light of my own reading of the law, which is that the judge erred in law: the judge was wrong to issue the order. To summarise Judge Ombija’s decision, he says that Kenya has an obligation to arrest Al Bashir because we ratified the Rome Statute, passed a law domesticating it and have in any case a Constitution that applies every treaty ratified by Kenya as part of our law.
But, can the applicants, ICJ-Kenya actually apply for an arrest warrant as they did? I have difficulty identifying what basis they were allowed to address the court on substance. Under the International Crimes Act that domesticates the Rome Statute, only the Minister can approach the High Court for an arrest warrant. Under our law, there are only two possibilities for a private citizen to come to court on this matter: for judicial review asking the court to issue orders compelling the Minister to approach the court for a warrant, or rely on the generous provisions on standing in the constitution by alleging that the constitution, in particular the bill of rights has been violated. Neither of this was done by the ICJ. In short, the judge improperly allowed a private citizen to act as the Minister.
According to the judgement, the crucial link between Kenya’s obligations to the ICC and the duty Al Bashir to arrest is universal jurisdiction. According to the judge’s reading of this principle, any state can arrest, prosecute or extradite anyone who commits an international crime anywhere. The problem with this view is twofold. First, with utmost respect to the judge, a discussion of universal jurisdiction on which he bases his decision should never have been conducted because it is irrelevant: the Rome Statute does not include universal jurisdiction. In my view, the judgement can fall on this score alone.
Secondly, although the judge discusses universal jurisdiction at length and he is broadly right on the principle, he does not consider or discuss the fact that current case law — all of it developed by leading Western courts — is that a sitting head of state is immune from arrest or prosecution by national courts abroad. I argue — again with utmost respect to the judge — that he only arrives at the conclusion that Kenya has an obligation to arrest by considering arguments that should not be relevant to the discussion, but more crucially, by not considering the most crucial issue. This central issue, on the basis of which the warrant issue should be resolved — and on which his decision stands or falls — is regrettably not dealt with by the judge.
The issue is: even when there is an ICC arrest warrant, can a sitting head of state be arrested abroad and handed over the ICC? The judge simply says in a couple of lines that no one benefits from immunity in respect of the ICC. Although he doesn’t cite the provision, this position is represented in article 27(2) of the Rome Statute. It is true that the ICC can indict anyone. However, it is not the correct approach to base Kenya’s obligation to arrest on article 27. If the Rome Statute forms part of our law, one must go on to see what else the Rome Statute says. The judge correctly does that, but he stops at article 91 and 92 which regulate procedure for arrest. By doing that, the judge misses the fact that a sitting head of state is subject to a different procedure of arrest, under article 98(1).
My reading of article 98(1) — which is not uncontroversial — is that because under international law of diplomatic relations and state immunity a sitting head of state ordinarily enjoys immunity from the actions of foreign organs of state — including the Judiciary — a Kenyan court can only properly order arrest of Al Bashir if one of three things exist: Sudan waives his immunity (through national law) or he is removed from office or Kenya removes its recognition of him as the legitimate Sudanese President. The cases of Milosevic of the former Yugoslavia, Charles Taylor of Liberia, and former Ivorian strongman Laurent Gbagbo who now sits in a cell in The Hague months after leaving office all support this view. Until there is a new rule of international law — introduced perhaps by an amendment of the Rome Statute, saying a sitting head of state indicted by the ICC can be picked up when visiting a foreign nation, we are stuck with what we have. It is for this reason that I fault the ICC judges’ ruling made several days ago on this issue (a decision involving Malawi’s refusal to arrest Al Bashir), which I will address, in a future post. However, I have serious doubts that a rule allowing arrest of a sitting head of state will emerge soon. The immunity enjoyed by heads of state and foreign ministers when traveling abroad to conduct diplomacy for their nations — is one of a handful of rules that form the cornerstone of the international system. I cannot visualise a different world — other than an anarchic one — where the legal equality of states did not exist.
My interpretation of article 98 of the Rome Statute does not mean a President cannot be tried: we just have to wait until he/she leaves office. Gbagbo is now in The Hague, seven months after his ouster. Too bad if a country is not a democracy or if — as is the case in Sudan – other states are unwilling, because of their national interests, to remove recognition of the sitting head of state that would enable them arrest him without breaching international law. Right now, resolution of the Bashir issue does not lie in the law: it is political.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Reflections on Fatou Bensouda's Election as ICC Prosecutor: Is it Good for Africa?
My brief remarks below about Fatou Benouda's election and the next Prosecutor of the International Criminal Court appeared in the , a kenyan daily on 15th December 2011. See here
Fatou Bensouda’s election as the second ICC Prosecutor has received mixed reactions, although the majority of voices have been positive. I add my voice by arguing — as someone who has come to know Ms Bensouda personally, and as a follower and participant in developments around the ICC over the last few years — that her election is good for ICC, and for Africa. However, I suggest that it is precisely the fact her election is good for Africa that could be her undoing. It is no exaggeration to say she is assuming the position not only because of her abilities, but also because the African Union (AU) wanted, and fought hard to ensure an African succeeds Ocampo.
Her election is good for the ICC because it ‘buys’ continued support for the ICC from a large part of the African bloc in the ICC, and the AU, which has shown itself — for good or bad — a major player in the sphere of international justice. Bensouda’s election is also good for ICC simply because she is not Ocampo. While she has been at the heart of operations in the Office of the Prosecutor and in many cases handled the technical aspects of constructing cases (with Ocampo mostly as the PR person), she lacks Ocampo’s much reviled abrasiveness that turned many off the ICC. After the fallout between AU and the ICC (read Ocampo) over President Omar Al Bashir, one heard arguments in African capitals — mostly in boardrooms, but also publicly — that the ICC had ‘marginalised Africa’ while focusing entirely on Africa.
At the time when the ICC’s support was plummeting in Africa (in political circles at least), she became somewhat a ‘poster girl’ for the court. And I don’t mean this pejoratively. Accused by AU of being a ‘Western court’ that prosecuted Africans while at staff level relegating Africans ‘to deputy everything’ as some African leaders would gleefully state, the court had gone on a charm offensive by deploying its senior African staff. I was honoured to share platforms with Ms Bensouda in several African cities — Addis, Kampala, Pretoria, Maputo and Midrand (the seat of the Pan African Parliament) while she travelled the continent to market the court and put out fires. She came across to me as someone who is not only smart, but also one with a genuine belief in the ICC project. More importantly, unlike Ocampo, when some of us took the liberty to criticise her office and ICC constructively for the manner in which certain things were done, she was open to acknowledging these failings, but always referenced the need to do justice for victims.
For Ocampo, you were either unquestioningly with the ICC, or you were ‘with the criminals and killers’. She will win the ICC many friends just by being nice and accommodating. The AU’s triumphant fight to see her at the top must be seen in one of two ways. First, the AU hopes — however strange this may sound — to ‘establish balance’ in the court by gaining a foothold at the highest echelons of decision-making. If the idea is to somehow influence things through her however, there will be disappointment. Save for a limited space where the prosecutor enjoys total discretion (who to charge and largely, the charges), pretty much everything else is subject to judicial control of Pre-Trial Chamber.
Second, but linked to this is that there is a desire — and this is not limited to Africa — that the new prosecutor must expand the focus of ICC investigations beyond Africa. For long-term legitimacy of the ICC, many would agree that there must be a genuine attempt to truly internationalise the ICC. This could be Bensouda’s greatest challenge, one that could prematurely end celebrations. Because of the limits in ICC jurisdiction, some situations (non-state parties like Sudan) can only come to it through the UN Security Council. There is no doubt the AU will watch her every move, and I will not be surprised if some demands are made on her in the Al Bashir matter. She may have no choice but to rebuff these overtures. Her burden clearly is do her job in a way that does not open her to criticism globally for being ‘soft’ on Africa, merely because she is African. My suspicion is that it is precisely for this reason that she could be firmer than Ocampo, although in a more diplomatic and accommodating way. It is a commendable personal victory, but I honestly don’t envy her. She must rethink strategy and re-position the Office of the Prosecutor while remaining on course in existing situations and cases.
The reality is that even though there are proclamations that support for ICC is growing — largely because of new situations opening — in political circles resolve waivers and most doors have closed or near-closed in older situations like Uganda, DR Congo, CAR and Sudan. Even among communities of victims, experience shows that support for ICC reduces sharply as the process advances. This is partly because it becomes evident the ICC — however important — does not deliver quick justice and the promise of reparations from the court remains illusory for the vast majority of victims. Some hard thinking for Bensouda is necessary, but there are limits to what she can reasonably be expected to achieve because some of the problems of the ICC are structural. Only time will tell. She has my best wishes!
Fatou Bensouda’s election as the second ICC Prosecutor has received mixed reactions, although the majority of voices have been positive. I add my voice by arguing — as someone who has come to know Ms Bensouda personally, and as a follower and participant in developments around the ICC over the last few years — that her election is good for ICC, and for Africa. However, I suggest that it is precisely the fact her election is good for Africa that could be her undoing. It is no exaggeration to say she is assuming the position not only because of her abilities, but also because the African Union (AU) wanted, and fought hard to ensure an African succeeds Ocampo.
Her election is good for the ICC because it ‘buys’ continued support for the ICC from a large part of the African bloc in the ICC, and the AU, which has shown itself — for good or bad — a major player in the sphere of international justice. Bensouda’s election is also good for ICC simply because she is not Ocampo. While she has been at the heart of operations in the Office of the Prosecutor and in many cases handled the technical aspects of constructing cases (with Ocampo mostly as the PR person), she lacks Ocampo’s much reviled abrasiveness that turned many off the ICC. After the fallout between AU and the ICC (read Ocampo) over President Omar Al Bashir, one heard arguments in African capitals — mostly in boardrooms, but also publicly — that the ICC had ‘marginalised Africa’ while focusing entirely on Africa.
At the time when the ICC’s support was plummeting in Africa (in political circles at least), she became somewhat a ‘poster girl’ for the court. And I don’t mean this pejoratively. Accused by AU of being a ‘Western court’ that prosecuted Africans while at staff level relegating Africans ‘to deputy everything’ as some African leaders would gleefully state, the court had gone on a charm offensive by deploying its senior African staff. I was honoured to share platforms with Ms Bensouda in several African cities — Addis, Kampala, Pretoria, Maputo and Midrand (the seat of the Pan African Parliament) while she travelled the continent to market the court and put out fires. She came across to me as someone who is not only smart, but also one with a genuine belief in the ICC project. More importantly, unlike Ocampo, when some of us took the liberty to criticise her office and ICC constructively for the manner in which certain things were done, she was open to acknowledging these failings, but always referenced the need to do justice for victims.
For Ocampo, you were either unquestioningly with the ICC, or you were ‘with the criminals and killers’. She will win the ICC many friends just by being nice and accommodating. The AU’s triumphant fight to see her at the top must be seen in one of two ways. First, the AU hopes — however strange this may sound — to ‘establish balance’ in the court by gaining a foothold at the highest echelons of decision-making. If the idea is to somehow influence things through her however, there will be disappointment. Save for a limited space where the prosecutor enjoys total discretion (who to charge and largely, the charges), pretty much everything else is subject to judicial control of Pre-Trial Chamber.
Second, but linked to this is that there is a desire — and this is not limited to Africa — that the new prosecutor must expand the focus of ICC investigations beyond Africa. For long-term legitimacy of the ICC, many would agree that there must be a genuine attempt to truly internationalise the ICC. This could be Bensouda’s greatest challenge, one that could prematurely end celebrations. Because of the limits in ICC jurisdiction, some situations (non-state parties like Sudan) can only come to it through the UN Security Council. There is no doubt the AU will watch her every move, and I will not be surprised if some demands are made on her in the Al Bashir matter. She may have no choice but to rebuff these overtures. Her burden clearly is do her job in a way that does not open her to criticism globally for being ‘soft’ on Africa, merely because she is African. My suspicion is that it is precisely for this reason that she could be firmer than Ocampo, although in a more diplomatic and accommodating way. It is a commendable personal victory, but I honestly don’t envy her. She must rethink strategy and re-position the Office of the Prosecutor while remaining on course in existing situations and cases.
The reality is that even though there are proclamations that support for ICC is growing — largely because of new situations opening — in political circles resolve waivers and most doors have closed or near-closed in older situations like Uganda, DR Congo, CAR and Sudan. Even among communities of victims, experience shows that support for ICC reduces sharply as the process advances. This is partly because it becomes evident the ICC — however important — does not deliver quick justice and the promise of reparations from the court remains illusory for the vast majority of victims. Some hard thinking for Bensouda is necessary, but there are limits to what she can reasonably be expected to achieve because some of the problems of the ICC are structural. Only time will tell. She has my best wishes!
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
ICC Prosecutor Ocampo Admits Double Standards at ICC
One of the most problematic aspects of the ICC is the role assigned to the security council (UNSC) to refer situations to the Court (art 13) and to suspend proceedings before the Court for a year (art 16).
Whatever its justification, it is problematic because it preserves the politicized role of the UNSC in a judicial body and projects the selectivity of the UNSC when acting to create ad hoc criminal tribunals in the past.
From an African perspective, the African Union has cited the role of the UNSC in its accusations against what it regards as selectivity on the ICC's part. One has to note that this accusation against the ICC may appear unfair because in situations where the court cannot act because a matter cannot get to the court either through a state referral or proprio motu initiative by the prosecutor only the UNSC can trigger jurisdiction. The problem however, is not that the UNSC can, and has in fact referred some situations to the court - Darfur and Libya - but that it has acted selectively. Commentators and the AU point for instance to possible war crimes committed during Operation Cast Lead in Gaza within the same time frame. Some go as far as Iraq and Afghanistan.
Until now, the ICC has been mum about the potential political role of the UNSC in the court. The ICC's supporters for their part have been quick to dismiss this as a minor issue, noting that once a matter gets to the court, only legal criteria become relevant. While this is true, it has to be acknow3ledged that the manner in which the UNSC has evolved not only in referrals but also in refusing to defer (esp Darfur) has had an impact on the international legitimacy of the ICC. In any case, the statutorily protected prosecutorial role in charging suspects is another site for potential politicisation but has received but limited attention until now.
In a surprising turn of events, the outgoing Prosecutor Moreno-Ocampo (perhaps emboldened by his impending departure and can now afford to be frank) has admitted that there is a double standard at the ICC.
Read his recent comments reported by Opinio Juris here.
Whatever its justification, it is problematic because it preserves the politicized role of the UNSC in a judicial body and projects the selectivity of the UNSC when acting to create ad hoc criminal tribunals in the past.
From an African perspective, the African Union has cited the role of the UNSC in its accusations against what it regards as selectivity on the ICC's part. One has to note that this accusation against the ICC may appear unfair because in situations where the court cannot act because a matter cannot get to the court either through a state referral or proprio motu initiative by the prosecutor only the UNSC can trigger jurisdiction. The problem however, is not that the UNSC can, and has in fact referred some situations to the court - Darfur and Libya - but that it has acted selectively. Commentators and the AU point for instance to possible war crimes committed during Operation Cast Lead in Gaza within the same time frame. Some go as far as Iraq and Afghanistan.
Until now, the ICC has been mum about the potential political role of the UNSC in the court. The ICC's supporters for their part have been quick to dismiss this as a minor issue, noting that once a matter gets to the court, only legal criteria become relevant. While this is true, it has to be acknow3ledged that the manner in which the UNSC has evolved not only in referrals but also in refusing to defer (esp Darfur) has had an impact on the international legitimacy of the ICC. In any case, the statutorily protected prosecutorial role in charging suspects is another site for potential politicisation but has received but limited attention until now.
In a surprising turn of events, the outgoing Prosecutor Moreno-Ocampo (perhaps emboldened by his impending departure and can now afford to be frank) has admitted that there is a double standard at the ICC.
Read his recent comments reported by Opinio Juris here.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
UK Denies Responsibility for Torture of Mau Mau
The hearing of a case filed by four Mau Mau veterans who waited 50 years for their day in court have commenced in London. The claim by the veterans is that the UK governmnet is responsible for torture they suffered at the hands of the colonial administration. The UK government opened by denying responsiblity, claiming that the UK government was separate from the colonial administration in Kenya which functioned as an autonomous entity. For this reason, the UK government cannot bear responsility for atrocities suffered. Without getting into the merits, the UK argument does not square with the ide of 'Empire': that all foreign possesions were part of the British Empire with London exercising varying degrees of control on the overseas territories. The case may turn on whether sufficient link is established between the two in a manner that infers responsibility for the UK government.
Although it is not clear whether this will feature in arguments, this case raises an interesting question relating to the law of state responsibility. Can governments that take over after the end of colonial rule be hel legally, and morally responsibile for the departed colonial administration?
Two theories are applicable. First, that of universal succession, in terms of which post colonial government inherits all obligations incurred by the departing power. If this were to apply to the instant case, then Kenya is liable to pay compensation to the Mau Mau veterans. The second theory is the 'clean slate' (tabula rasa) approach. This approach holds that the new governmnt starts afresh, and cannot be held liable for the conduct of the departing colonial government. This is most gavoured by newly independent states for obvious reasons. This approach was favoured by Nile basin states that rejected the Nile Water Agreement of 1929, granting Egypt the lion's share of the Nile waters. The Nile Agreement has been replaced with a multilateral one, Nile Treaty of 2010.
On the Mau Mau case, see here
Although it is not clear whether this will feature in arguments, this case raises an interesting question relating to the law of state responsibility. Can governments that take over after the end of colonial rule be hel legally, and morally responsibile for the departed colonial administration?
Two theories are applicable. First, that of universal succession, in terms of which post colonial government inherits all obligations incurred by the departing power. If this were to apply to the instant case, then Kenya is liable to pay compensation to the Mau Mau veterans. The second theory is the 'clean slate' (tabula rasa) approach. This approach holds that the new governmnt starts afresh, and cannot be held liable for the conduct of the departing colonial government. This is most gavoured by newly independent states for obvious reasons. This approach was favoured by Nile basin states that rejected the Nile Water Agreement of 1929, granting Egypt the lion's share of the Nile waters. The Nile Agreement has been replaced with a multilateral one, Nile Treaty of 2010.
On the Mau Mau case, see here
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Kenya's Deferral Request Should Worry the ICC
For some thoughts on this issue, see this short piece published by the Royal African Society. In this article, I argue that the kenyan and Sudan are linked in a number of ways, and that while basic legal criteria are not met to secure deferral, links with Sudanese situation complicates decision-making for the UNSC. I conclude that whatever happens, the ICC is unlikely to re-emerge unscathed.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
No Need For a Referendum to Withdraw from Rome Statute, Treaties and Conventions
Like the contentious Al Bashir visit, the naming of 6 suspects by ICC Prosecutor Ocampo has evoked very disturbing comments about the new constitution.
For Kenyans to reap fully from the new constitution, we must not interpret the constitution in a manner that undermines rights and offends against the naked letter of the Constitution. Judge Musinga’s recent ruling on boundaries is a good example (jurisdicction).
But we must also not interpret it too restrictively, and without much reflection because this would make it difficult for government to perform its functions, including engaging Kenya in international affairs. The suggestion by some MPs and lawyers that we need a referendum to withdraw from an international treaty – in this case the Rome Statute – is a perfect example.
I suspect that these views are largely due to limited understanding of relevant international law and comparative experience.
I have commented before (during the Al Bashir saga) on the place of international law under Kenyan law, in view of our new constitution. I feel constrained to revisit some of my arguments in view of the current furore.
The relevant parts of the Constitution, articles 2(5) and 2(6) respectively read as follows:
The general rules of international law shall form part of the law of Kenya
Any treaty or convention ratified by Kenya shall form part of the law of Kenya under this constitution.
These two provisions simply regulate the relationship between domestic/national law and international law. They have nothing to do with the supremacy of the constitution. The two provisions were placed in the wrong section of the constitution by COE, but it is not fatal. On the naked letter of those provisions, as well as comparative experience, they need not be interpreted differently simply because they are in the section ‘supremacy of the constitution’.
Contrary to views expressed by by Hon Mutula, Karua, Mungatana and Muite and echoed elsewhere, a plain reading of 2(5) and 2(6) shows that both general rules of international law (custom) and treaties (conventions) form part of Kenyan law and NOT part of the constitution.
This is not an academic distinction. This reasoning is in line with major legal traditions in the world, including our own, unless we want to invent a new tradition which would make it difficult for us to engage internationally. There are other serious implications, but the main one is that Kenya can only join or withdraw from any treaty – even minor bilateral treaties – by approval of a referendum! Even as a matter of pragmatism and policy, it is the wrong interpretation, in view of the number of agreements Kenya signs with foreign nations, and the expense of running a single referendum! Our engagement internationally would suffer significant, unwarranted hiccups......
The only difference is between custom and treaties is how the two categories of rules of international law become part of Kenyan law.
General rules of international law in article 2(5) above refers to customary rules of international law. These are rules over which there is widespread, if not total agreement by states eg the prohibition of genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity; the equality of states; immunity of heads of states and foreign ministers when travelling abroad; and the prohibition against use of force.
These customary rules, are superior rules and automatically form part of Kenyan law. No legislation is needed to make customary rules part of Kenyan law. Because some customary rules are contained in treaties, once Kenya ratifies an international agreement ie agrees to be bound by it, only the customary rules in that treaty apply immediately. All other rules of international law ie non-customary rules contained in treaties and conventions (art 2.6 above) only form part of Kenyan law when domesticated ie, applied through an Act of Parliament.
The words ‘under this constitution’ at the end of art 2(6) do NOT mean that treaties like the Rome Statute form part of the Constitution. And this is where the MPs named above get it completely wrong. ‘Under this constitution’ means ‘as provided by the constitution’. In other words, the constitution provides how treaties and conventions form part of Kenyan law. Note the difference with article 2(5) which omits ‘under this constitution’, because custom forms part of our law or is incorporated automatically in Kenyan law when a new international custom emerges.
Our constitution provides how treaties form part of Kenyan law by vesting full legislative powers in Parliament. In terms of our constitution, the executive negotiates, ratifies and withdraws from treaties. Parliament translates treaties into Kenyan law by passing legislation. It also has full powers to repeal or amend any law it makes, including the International Crimes Act.
We can question Parliament’s motives or that of the movers of the motion. We can oppose withdrawal from the ICC for other reasons, including the imperatives for justice. And I understand those opposed to repealing the International Crimes Act or withdrawing from the ICC to be saying that it is not advisable, and that it is in fact duplicitous to make this attempt. But it is very strange indeed to suggest that it is unconstitutional for parliament to do legislative work! Under the old and new constitution, and the constitution of any country, it is the work of Parliament to make and unmake laws! In fact, we would be acting unconstitutionally if we prevented Parliament engaging in lawmaking through various mechanisms, including motions.
Constitutionally, parliament’s powers are limited to legislating, which includes translating treaties into Kenyan law. But they cannot negotiate or withdraw from a treaty. They can only pass a motion asking the executive to do so. This is not unconstitutional. It is up to the executive to take the process forward, or refuse to do so. The new constitution demarcates functions but proposes cooperative engagement between the three arms of government and levels of government: national and county. It cannot be unconstitutional for one arm or level of government – while keeping to its functions – to remind or request another to perform a constitutional function.
While noting that repealing the International Crimes Act does not amount to withdrawing from the ICC, the Rome Statute is clear that any State Party can withdraw (art 127). As an international lawyer, I don’t know of any treaty (including the UN Charter) that would bar a party from withdrawing. I explore conditions of withdrawal in another post.
In conclusion, I must emphasise that there is no need to amend the Constitution because the Rome Statute – just like other treaties ratified by Kenya – does not form part of the Constitution. The argument that the Rome Statute and other treaties form part of the constitution is unsupported by both comparative experience and a plain reading of art 2(6) or any other provision in the Constitution. As argued, to suggest otherwise produces a result that we do not want to live with: making it near impossible for the executive to speedily, effectively engage Kenya internationally through negotiated agreements.
Beyond legal arguments, and while noting that repealing the International Crimes Act neither withdraws Kenya from the ICC nor stops current ICC process, what can be asked of parliament is: what alternatives are we offering for real justice for victims?
I explore the idea of options in another post.
For Kenyans to reap fully from the new constitution, we must not interpret the constitution in a manner that undermines rights and offends against the naked letter of the Constitution. Judge Musinga’s recent ruling on boundaries is a good example (jurisdicction).
But we must also not interpret it too restrictively, and without much reflection because this would make it difficult for government to perform its functions, including engaging Kenya in international affairs. The suggestion by some MPs and lawyers that we need a referendum to withdraw from an international treaty – in this case the Rome Statute – is a perfect example.
I suspect that these views are largely due to limited understanding of relevant international law and comparative experience.
I have commented before (during the Al Bashir saga) on the place of international law under Kenyan law, in view of our new constitution. I feel constrained to revisit some of my arguments in view of the current furore.
The relevant parts of the Constitution, articles 2(5) and 2(6) respectively read as follows:
The general rules of international law shall form part of the law of Kenya
Any treaty or convention ratified by Kenya shall form part of the law of Kenya under this constitution.
These two provisions simply regulate the relationship between domestic/national law and international law. They have nothing to do with the supremacy of the constitution. The two provisions were placed in the wrong section of the constitution by COE, but it is not fatal. On the naked letter of those provisions, as well as comparative experience, they need not be interpreted differently simply because they are in the section ‘supremacy of the constitution’.
Contrary to views expressed by by Hon Mutula, Karua, Mungatana and Muite and echoed elsewhere, a plain reading of 2(5) and 2(6) shows that both general rules of international law (custom) and treaties (conventions) form part of Kenyan law and NOT part of the constitution.
This is not an academic distinction. This reasoning is in line with major legal traditions in the world, including our own, unless we want to invent a new tradition which would make it difficult for us to engage internationally. There are other serious implications, but the main one is that Kenya can only join or withdraw from any treaty – even minor bilateral treaties – by approval of a referendum! Even as a matter of pragmatism and policy, it is the wrong interpretation, in view of the number of agreements Kenya signs with foreign nations, and the expense of running a single referendum! Our engagement internationally would suffer significant, unwarranted hiccups......
The only difference is between custom and treaties is how the two categories of rules of international law become part of Kenyan law.
General rules of international law in article 2(5) above refers to customary rules of international law. These are rules over which there is widespread, if not total agreement by states eg the prohibition of genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity; the equality of states; immunity of heads of states and foreign ministers when travelling abroad; and the prohibition against use of force.
These customary rules, are superior rules and automatically form part of Kenyan law. No legislation is needed to make customary rules part of Kenyan law. Because some customary rules are contained in treaties, once Kenya ratifies an international agreement ie agrees to be bound by it, only the customary rules in that treaty apply immediately. All other rules of international law ie non-customary rules contained in treaties and conventions (art 2.6 above) only form part of Kenyan law when domesticated ie, applied through an Act of Parliament.
The words ‘under this constitution’ at the end of art 2(6) do NOT mean that treaties like the Rome Statute form part of the Constitution. And this is where the MPs named above get it completely wrong. ‘Under this constitution’ means ‘as provided by the constitution’. In other words, the constitution provides how treaties and conventions form part of Kenyan law. Note the difference with article 2(5) which omits ‘under this constitution’, because custom forms part of our law or is incorporated automatically in Kenyan law when a new international custom emerges.
Our constitution provides how treaties form part of Kenyan law by vesting full legislative powers in Parliament. In terms of our constitution, the executive negotiates, ratifies and withdraws from treaties. Parliament translates treaties into Kenyan law by passing legislation. It also has full powers to repeal or amend any law it makes, including the International Crimes Act.
We can question Parliament’s motives or that of the movers of the motion. We can oppose withdrawal from the ICC for other reasons, including the imperatives for justice. And I understand those opposed to repealing the International Crimes Act or withdrawing from the ICC to be saying that it is not advisable, and that it is in fact duplicitous to make this attempt. But it is very strange indeed to suggest that it is unconstitutional for parliament to do legislative work! Under the old and new constitution, and the constitution of any country, it is the work of Parliament to make and unmake laws! In fact, we would be acting unconstitutionally if we prevented Parliament engaging in lawmaking through various mechanisms, including motions.
Constitutionally, parliament’s powers are limited to legislating, which includes translating treaties into Kenyan law. But they cannot negotiate or withdraw from a treaty. They can only pass a motion asking the executive to do so. This is not unconstitutional. It is up to the executive to take the process forward, or refuse to do so. The new constitution demarcates functions but proposes cooperative engagement between the three arms of government and levels of government: national and county. It cannot be unconstitutional for one arm or level of government – while keeping to its functions – to remind or request another to perform a constitutional function.
While noting that repealing the International Crimes Act does not amount to withdrawing from the ICC, the Rome Statute is clear that any State Party can withdraw (art 127). As an international lawyer, I don’t know of any treaty (including the UN Charter) that would bar a party from withdrawing. I explore conditions of withdrawal in another post.
In conclusion, I must emphasise that there is no need to amend the Constitution because the Rome Statute – just like other treaties ratified by Kenya – does not form part of the Constitution. The argument that the Rome Statute and other treaties form part of the constitution is unsupported by both comparative experience and a plain reading of art 2(6) or any other provision in the Constitution. As argued, to suggest otherwise produces a result that we do not want to live with: making it near impossible for the executive to speedily, effectively engage Kenya internationally through negotiated agreements.
Beyond legal arguments, and while noting that repealing the International Crimes Act neither withdraws Kenya from the ICC nor stops current ICC process, what can be asked of parliament is: what alternatives are we offering for real justice for victims?
I explore the idea of options in another post.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)