The "double punishment" of transgender prisoners: a human rights-based commentary on placement and conditions of detention.

As is well known, different countries may have a different attitude toward the formal rank of international human rights law in domestic legal order. In those countries that qualify the ratified international human rights law merely as statute, the formal rank of international human rights law is often used as an argument against the binding force of international human rights law on domestic constitutional law. Through a comparative analysis between Germany and Taiwan, though, this paper shows that, despite similar determinations on the formal rank of international (human rights) law, the German and the Taiwanese Constitutional Courts have developed quite different views on the normative significance of international human rights law to their domestic constitutional orders. The different constitutional practices in Germany and Taiwan thus not only reflect Taiwan’s unique international status, but also indicate that the formal rank of international human rights law does not have much to do with its normative binding force on domestic constitutional law. Those who use formal rank as an argument against the binding force of international human rights law on constitutional law presuppose the absolute dichotomy of international and domestic law and thereby overlook the potential compatibility between international human rights law and constitutional law. From a human rights perspective, I argue that international human rights law should not be regarded as an “external” law, but rather as a framework order which delegates domestic constitutional orders to concretize international human rights law according to their own needs or interests so as to fulfill their international task of human rights protection on national level. Viewed this way, the determination on the formal rank of international human rights law in domestic legal order matters only because it has to do with the determination of a certain constitutional order on the way in which it concretizes international human rights law.

Regional human rights courts like the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR), the Inter-American Court of Human Rights (IACtHR), and the African Court of Human and People's Rights (ACtHPR) have become popular sites of mobilization for victims and activists who seek justice when justice fails at home. Besides being platforms for individual remedy, human rights courts increasingly shape social norms and state policy within countries, making them attractive avenues for rights advocates to develop new norms or to push domestic authorities to reform legislation. The judges of these courts can decide, for example, whether same-sex couples have a right to be married, if prisoners have the right to vote or receive HIV/AIDS treatment, or when a state can deport illegal immigrants to a country where they will likely be tortured. As these courts pass their judgments, they often find themselves in conflict with states that are violating human rights of marginalized groups on a large scale and are unwilling to implement international rulings. Although international human rights courts have become increasingly popular venues among victims and activists who seek justice when justice fails at home, we are only beginning to understand how activists play roles in shaping the development of regional human rights courts' case law—the body of judgments that shapes how judges will make their decisions in the future. We now have plenty of international relations and international legal research on the interactions between states and international courts: how judges in these courts wrestle between deferring to the interests of member state governments whose actions are on trial and sticking closely to the conventions' fundamental yet evolving principles (Alter et al., 2019; Helfer & Voeten, 2014). As some states begin to resist international courts' authority, scholars have begun to examine the dynamics of this backlash (Hillebrecht, 2022; Madsen et al., 2018; Sandholtz et al., 2018). Recent studies have also demonstrated that human rights advocates—whether NGOs or individual lawyers—have a significant impact on shaping the jurisprudence of international courts and the impact judgments have in concrete locations (Kahraman, 2018; Sundstrom, 2014; van der Vet, 2012; Kurban, 2020; Conant, 2018; Harms, 2021; Cichowski, 2016; Hodson, 2011; Haddad, 2018). Meanwhile, these advocates themselves have been subject to repression and stigmatization by governments as part of the backlash phenomenon. Without an adequate understanding of the factors shaping activists' engagement with international courts, we risk undervaluing their strategic impact on the expansion of case law, the human rights protection of marginalized groups who cannot find remedies at home, and the domestic implementation of these judgments in an age of state backlash. In this section, we summarize the three papers contained in this symposium and their original contributions to these themes. Over the last decade, dozens of countries have erected legal barriers or started vilifying campaigns to stymie the work of NGOs (Buyse, 2018; Chaudhry, 2022). One tactic in this toolkit is the enactment of burdensome regulation on NGOs that receive funds from foreign donors as they allegedly promote foreign agendas (Christensen & Weinstein, 2013; Dupuy et al., 2021). States that frequently abuse human rights are especially prone to target NGOs that engage in strategic litigation (Hillebrecht, 2019). Most NGOs depend on foreign funding, and NGOs that litigate international cases fall disproportionately in this category, but do funders affect the selection of cases? In “Foreign Agents or Agents of Justice? Private Foundations, NGO Backlash, and International Human Rights Litigation,” Heidi Haddad and Lisa Sundstrom examine the extent to which Western donors, particularly private foundations, have encouraged NGOs in Europe to litigate at the ECtHR as a human rights advocacy strategy. They examine overall patterns of donor funding and NGO litigation records, and look in more detail at the case of Russian NGOs' foreign funding and litigation records. The analysis is extremely timely, as the Russian government's criminalization of independent civil society actors, especially in the human rights field, and their accusation that foreign funding turns NGOs into “foreign agents” have been crucial elements of the Russian regime's autocratization. This claim has also provided fuel for Russia's disenchantment with the ECtHR in recent years, contributing to the assessment of many observers that Russia's full-scale attack on Ukraine was the last straw in an inevitable collision course leading to its exit from the Council of Europe. Haddad and Sundstrom debunk the idea that foreign donors are pushing NGOs toward strategies of human rights litigation. Instead, they argue, there is more evidence that NGOs themselves promoted the mechanism of international litigation as a strategy that donors later adopted. This article is a poignant reminder of the advocacy tools that Russian human rights activists and citizens have lost as a result of their government's departure from the Council of Europe, including ECtHR jurisdiction. Yet it also provides insight into the likely roles of foreign donors in other country cases where NGOs are using international court litigation as a human rights advocacy strategy, which is often a target of the ire of national governments, as explored in the next article in the symposium. When states attack human rights NGOs within their borders and/or international human rights courts themselves, how does this affect the willingness of those NGOs to take cases to international courts, and the ways in which they do so? De Silva and Plagis ask this question in their article about state backlash against NGOs in the case of Tanzania and the African Court on Human and Peoples' Rights. A fascinating empirical question they pose is: does state backlash against NGOs increase NGO litigation at international courts (to contest state repression at those courts and use international mechanisms when domestic ones are not available), roughly in line with Keck and Sikkink's famous “boomerang pattern” (Keck & Sikkink, 1998), or decrease it due to heightened fear and restricted NGO capabilities that state repression creates? Employing a process-tracing analysis of NGOs' involvement in three cases before the African Court at different stages of the Tanzanian government's backlash against the Court, De Silva and Plagis find that “two-level backlash” by states can result in both phenomena, either promoting or deterring NGO legal mobilization at international human rights courts, depending on certain conditions. The three selected cases concerning the death penalty, the rights of persons with albinism, and the rights of pregnant schoolgirls and mothers, which took place at different time periods, demonstrate a number of patterns of state backlash interacting with NGO strategies. The authors find that domestic-level state backlash deterred domestic NGOs from partnering with international NGOs in litigation, but that such backlash, when it repressed domestic political and legal mobilization opportunities, actually encouraged both Tanzanian and international NGOs to turn to the African Court more frequently to seek remedies. International-level backlash in turn only deterred NGOs from international litigation when such backlash consisted of state efforts to restrict NGOs' ability to engage in litigation, and not when the international backlash was in the form of routine noncompliance with African Court rulings. Importantly, the authors find that NGO responses to state backlash were significantly shaped by their degree of legal consciousness and expertise with the rules, proceedings, and workings of the African Court. Those NGOs with less knowledge and experience were more likely to back away from engaging with the Court under the pressure of state backlash. De Silva and Plagis conclude that “NGOs' persistent human rights advocacy in the face of state backlash is a double-edged sword,” in the sense that they may not be deterred by state backlash initially, but there is a danger that their continued determination to engage in international litigation could prompt governments to engage in even more severe forms of backlash, with critical impacts on international courts and already vulnerable human rights defenders. Rights advocates have a growing menu of institutions and courts available to them. How do activists choose at which institution to lodge their cases in a world where legal remedies have diversified, or as some have argued, fragmented (Koskenniemi & Leino, 2002)? In “What Makes an International Institution Work for Labor Activists? Shaping International Law through Strategic Litigation,” Filiz Kahraman goes beyond the tendency of legal mobilization studies to only examine how activists interact with a single court or institution. Instead, Kahraman opens up how rights advocates imagine which institution is most receptive to their claims. Drawing on a comparative interview study of British and Turkish trade union activists and their legal mobilization campaigns at international courts and quasi-judicial institutions like the International Labor Organization (ILO), Kahraman examines how activists first probe and then strategically identify which court or international institution is most susceptible to their primary goals of influencing structural reforms and setting new norms. Through this probing process—or dynamic signaling game between courts and litigants—activists push a court's jurisprudence and case law into new issue areas. For instance, at the ECtHR, Turkish trade unionists challenged domestic courts' ruling that public sector workers did not have the right to establish unions, even though the ECtHR had no established case law on labor rights in 1990s. They won the case, with the ECtHR finding that Turkey violated the right of public sector workers to unionize. These cases not only had an impact within Turkey, but over the next decades, similar cases brought by British unionists would spin off the early precedent set by the Turkish legal mobilization efforts. Kahraman argues that they ultimately pushed the ECtHR to recognize the basic trade union rights as fundamental human rights. Kahraman sheds light on the often hidden strategies behind international litigation. Activists litigate not just for the immediate impact on the current case they work on, but how they envision that all the cases they work on may shape norms and domestic structural reforms further in the future. Whether an institution is perceptive of claims lies in the eye of the beholder. Kahraman finds that besides targeting institutions with high compliance rates, they also take cases to institutions with low rates of compliance, especially “if these institutions have extensive judicial authority to create new international norms.” So, it is not the de jure protection set by an international courts, but rather how activists perceive the juridical responsiveness and judicial authority of courts—or, how judges adopt either an activist approach or restraint in response to incoming cases and how willing states are to implement cases of a court, respectively—that determines why activists select certain courts or quasi-judicial institutions (like the ILO). Kahraman gives us new tools to interpret how activists perceive authority and receptiveness and respond to opportunities. Rather than static external legal remedies, courts and quasi-judicial institutions are opportunity structures that are malleable to the strategic vision of the activist or litigant. The articles in this symposium together reveal a number of key overlapping insights. At the broadest level, they demonstrate that activists' behaviors and strategies influence international courts' jurisprudence, politics within states, and the human rights outcomes of everyday citizens—and these influences have often been hidden in our existing canon of research on international courts. In addition, all of these articles show that, while activists may face challenges in their efforts, often including significant backlash from their home state governments, they also continue to retain significant agency through their creative efforts to develop legal strategies and circumvent state repression. Activists perennially innovate: sparking the ideas that inspire donors who fund them; calculating how to continue their litigation work when government actors threaten them; and taking risks in litigation to push courts to expand how they define human rights. However, along with these uplifting conclusions, there are worrying patterns that demand future research. States are increasingly pushing back against the powers of international courts to bind them to costly measures, and as this symposium has shown, national governments often point to activists as contributors to this “problem” of invasive international human rights standards. A growing body of research has tracked how human rights defenders of all kinds globally are under threat from actors like governments and corporations who disagree with their contentious actions. We need more studies that gather comprehensive data and systematically track these threats, specifically with regard to activists who engage in international human rights litigation. We suspect that such activists are likely disproportionately targeted due to the international visibility of their complaints. We also desperately need research into possible innovative responses to these threats to activists—responses from activists, funders, governments of countries that support human rights, and international courts themselves. Freek van der Vet is a University Researcher at the Erik Castrén Institute of International Law and Human Rights, Faculty of Law, University of Helsinki and the principal investigator of the Toxic Crimes Project. Lisa McIntosh Sundstrom is Professor of Political Science at the University of British Columbia. She is the director of the ActinCourts network at UBC and conducts research on legal mobilization by Russian activists.

Economic Sanctions Against Human Rights Violations

Reviewed by: Gender Stereotyping: Transnational Legal Perspectives Zanita E. Fenton (bio) Rebecca J. Cook & Simone Cusack, Gender Stereotyping: Transnational Legal Perspectives (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2010), 288 pages, ISBN 9780812242140. I have focused on domestic law almost the entirety of my career.1 I was recently confronted, however, with how intimately the domestic law and international law might interact when I examined the United States case of Town of Castle Rock v. Gonzales,2 regarding the enforcement of protective orders in domestic violence contexts. The facts of this case are also the basis for Jessica Gonzales v. United [End Page 243] States,3 submitted to the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights. Human rights Conventions, such as the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR)4 or the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW),5 may provide new insights and avenues to address the injustices presented and permitted by US domestic laws and the interpretations of these laws. Although the United States Supreme Court found no due process violation in the failure of the state to protect6 or even to follow up in the instance of a validly issued state protective order,7 international conventions could provide greater protection by requiring “due diligence” in fulfilling the state’s obligation to protect its citizens. Writing about this case enlightened my perception of the divergences and commonalities between International Human Rights law and the domestic laws of the various nation states. Plainly, Gonzales is a case where the United States would benefit from an account of alternative norms. The US should be a leader in creating new norms that better diminishes gender stereotypes rooted in concepts of women as property,8 instead of reaffirming those stereotypes. Gender Stereotyping9 by Rebecca Cook and Simone Cusack directly addresses the global uses of gender stereotypes that perpetuate the subordinated status of women. The wisdom and guidance within its covers is of great value and relevance to the Gonzales case: The general obligation to protect requires States Parties to take appropriate measures to address violations by non–state actors, such as the family, the community, and the market. The obligation to protect women against wrongful forms of gender stereotyping by non-state actors includes undertaking ongoing awareness-raising regarding biases and prejudices against women, applying sensitizing, preventive, and other appropriate legislations, policies, or programs, introducing effective procedures in response to complaints against non-state actors, and implementing [End Page 244] appropriate remedies to redress wrongful forms of gender stereotyping.10 Gender Stereotyping is especially timely in that my “epiphany” is not unique. There seems to be a growing trend amongst lawyers trained in the United States, as well as in other nations, to make that connection not only apparent, but one that is effective for facilitating change. For example, there is an increasing number of lawyers, from a variety of locations, who work with the “Bringing Human Rights Home Lawyers’ Network.” 11 This project encourages United States compliance with international human rights law, including through the United Nations and Inter-American Human Rights systems and the development of strategies to use human rights law in US courts and legislatures. Gender stereotypes are ecumenical and entrenched in astoundingly consistent ways across locations. They have had an integral role in the enduring nature of all forms of gender discrimination and subordination. Stereotypes may have different content in accordance with the relevant country and context, as well as pervade a cross-section of national life, in education, employment, health, family relations, or other areas of life. With this in mind, the elimination of gender discrimination and the role of state actors in this process is the central purpose of Gender Stereotyping. Gender Stereotyping draws on both domestic and international law, and uses the judgments of the courts and human rights treaty bodies to suggest ways to eliminate gender stereotypes and, ultimately, women’s inequality by utilizing the transnational legal process. Gender Stereotypes makes the connection and relevance between domestic law and international law in a fluid and productive manner. Its approach is one that attempts to fully address the complexities of global realities as international law tries to navigate differences...

Particularly in developing nations, the movement has been toward the articulation of elaborate provisions in constitutions which guarantee the basic human and peoples' rights of the citizenry. In many cases these are reflections of the immediate past history of the young nations which were strewn with ugly spectacles of dictatorships on their path to democracy. The history of Ghana is unfortunately an illustrative example. The Ghana Independence Constitution of 1957—a very brief document—was brief to a fault and bereft of any provision for human rights. It is clear that the experience of years of abuse of human, political, and civil rights in Ghana explains many of the current constitutional guarantees of basic rights spelt out in the 1992 Constitution in order to protect citizens against future abuses.In the past, treaty obligations under municipal laws of Ghana were such that even ratification of human rights treaties did not directly confer enforceable legal rights in the domestic courts of Ghana and implementing legislation was necessary to make a treaty right justiciable. In the 1992 Constitution of Ghana, the provisions of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and of the African Charter on Human and Peoples' Rights, as well as others, are entrenched as constitutional provisions, are to be interpreted as such, and enforceable under the laws of Ghana. To the extent that drafters of the Ghana Constitution relied on the principles of the international human rights law enshrined in treaties and declarations, there are many similarities between the domestic law and some principles of international human rights law.

This collection of essays explores links between the environment and human rights, and responds to the growing debate among activists, lawyers, academics and policy-makers on the legal status of environmental rights in both international and domestic law, and on the proposals for a human right to a satisfactory environment. The collection is an original and timely contribution to the existing literature on this subject, and offers a sustained analysis which addresses both the conceptual and practical problems of environmental rights. The conceptual dimensions are particularly rich, raising fundamental questions concerning the human/environment relationship as well as more general issues regarding the form, content and limitations of international and domestic human rights law. The first part of the book deals mainly with the protection of the environment in international human rights law and EC law, while part two concentrates on problems and experience in developing countries, some of which have already incorporated environmental rights and international constitutional law and from which a growing jurisprudence has emerged. This is where at present human rights approaches seem to be of greatest value. Each chapter is written by an author well qualified in the field. The volume will have a wide appeal to anyone interested in environmental law and human rights.

Since the general framework of international human rights law has been built in the 1960s to the 1980s, a new generation of questions has arisen, which focuses more on the effectiveness of that framework and, particularly, on its impact at national level. The role of national authorities is vital in this respect. International human rights can only be effective on the ground, where they really matter, if national courts, parliaments, and governments rely on them, and if civil society mobilizes in order to hold authorities accountable on that basis (see, e.g. D. Beyleveld, ‘The Concept of a Human Right and Incorporation of the European Convention on Human Rights', (1995) Public Law, 577; C. Heyns and F. Viljoen, The Impact of the United Nations Human Rights Treaties on the Domestic Level (The Hague: Kluwer Law International, 2002); O. Schachter, ‘The Obligation to Implement the Covenant in Domestic Law’ in L. Henkin (ed.), The International Bill of Rights. The Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (New York: Columbia University Press, 1981), p. 311; on the role of national courts in applying international human rights, see B. Conforti and F. Francioni (eds.), Enforcing International Human Rights in Domestic Courts (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1997)).

The Nuremberg tribunal was the expression and the beginning of states' recognition of their duty to prosecute genocide and other gross human rights violations. It was a first step towards fulfillin...

This chapter provides an overview of the means through which international human rights law is translated into domestic law, policy, and practice. To have an influence on public health, international human rights law must be translated into domestic action. As international human rights law is largely state centered, it relies upon national and subnational governments to implement it—to promote and protect human rights and to provide remedies to victims of human rights violations. Based upon international rules on domestic implementation, there are four general approaches to translate international law into domestic action: human rights education, policymaking, judicial actions, and engagement with international human rights mechanisms. National and subnational governments use these four approaches to translate international human rights law into domestic law, policy, and practice for health, while nongovernmental organizations and international human rights mechanisms play important roles in monitoring these processes.

This chapter provides an overview of the means through which international human rights law is translated into domestic law, policy, and practice. To have an influence on public health, international human rights law must be translated into domestic action. As international human rights law is largely state centered, it relies upon national and subnational governments to implement it—to promote and protect human rights and to provide remedies to victims of human rights violations. Based upon international rules on domestic implementation, there are four general approaches to translate international law into domestic action: human rights education, policymaking, judicial actions, and engagement with international human rights mechanisms. National and subnational governments use these four approaches to translate international human rights law into domestic law, policy, and practice for health, while nongovernmental organizations and international human rights mechanisms play important roles in monitoring these processes.

This article examines the human rights protections relevant to lesbian, gay, bisexual and/or transgender (‘LGBT’) people in Australian prisons. We commence by addressing some of the inequalities experienced by incarcerated LGBT people, before outlining the relevant international human rights frameworks and their implementation in Australia. We focus on Victoria as a case study, demonstrating that there are limited provisions for LGBT people in prisons, and these provisions are generally not legally enforceable. We conclude by recommending legislative reforms that would increase protections for a particularly vulnerable cohort in the prison environment and promote compliance with Australia’s obligations under international human rights law.

The nature of the relationship between international humanitarian law and international human rights law remains a vexed one. In recent years, human rights lawyers and activists have sought to apply human rights norms to military conduct in international and internal conflicts, and during belligerent occupations. With varying degrees of success, complainants have brought their cases before international tribunals, and to national courts able to apply international human rights standards. This development has occurred largely because forums exist to hear human rights claims, whereas they do not for persons claiming individual redress for violations of international humanitarian law. However, human rights norms have also been seen as more restrictive: as placing greater constraints on States' freedom to conduct hostilities, preventively detain, and administer occupied territories. It is for this reason that some States have resisted attempts to extend the reach of international human rights law into areas traditionally seen as governed by international humanitarian law. This chapter argues that principles have now developed to govern the relationship between the two bodies of law. However, their application to different situations remains a work-in-progress and controversies remain. In particular, despite valient efforts, it remains unclear what what happens in situations where the two bodies of law cannot be read together? There are only few rules of norm-conflict resolution in international law, all of which have limited application in the context of the relationship between international humanitarian law and human rights law. Most inconsistencies between the rules of the two bodies of law are not true conflicts at all, as they do not require States to conduct themselves in different ways. It is simply that international humanitarian law is the more permissive system. In such situations, to argue that the two bodies of law are ‘complementary and mutually reinforcing’ is to do little more than issue a policy prescription. In reality, in such cases States have to make a choice as regards which rules they wish to comply (a choice which is likely to be a political one) and take the consequences. There are fundamental incompatibilities between international humanitarian law and human rights law, not only as regards discrete rules but in their theoretical bases. Attempts can be made to reconcile them, to avoid conflicts, but they can only be provisional and on a case-by-case basis. The legal tools available cannot always provide an answer. Absent legislation, conflicts will remain. And in a world of States with differing interests and values, the adoption of new rules governing armed conflict and belligerent occupation will be difficult, if not impossible. One difference between the two bodies of rules, in particular, remains fundamental. Despite developments over past decades which are said to indicate a ‘humanization of humanitarian law’, international humanitarian law, in contrast to human rights law, is not based on an individual rights paradigm. It is this difference, even excluding the differences in the substantive protections accorded individuals under the two bodies of law, which will ensure that individuals continue to bring complaints regarding their treatment in situations of armed conflict before human rights bodies. And even if human rights bodies take the view that States’ human rights obligations in situations of armed conflict are to be interpreted using the yardstick of international humanitarian law, their interpretations of humanitarian law are likely to differ from lawyers advising States’ defence ministries and armed forces, who are likely to continue to be unhappy with such trespasses into what they see as their chasse gardee.

Reviewed by: The Culturalization of Human Rights Law by Federico Lenzerini Julie Fraser, Ph.D. Candidate (bio) Federico Lenzerini, The Culturalization of Human Rights Law (Oxford University Press, 2014), ISBN 978-0-19-966428-3, 304pages. I. INTRODUCTION The apparent tension between human rights and cultural diversity is as old as the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. In an effort to ease this tension, Federico Lenzerini uses this book to promote the “culturalization” of human rights: a differentiated understanding of rights based on the specific needs of the people in each case. Lenzerini makes important contributions by setting out the foundations of human dignity and rights in societies around the world, and providing examples of cultural approaches to human rights law by international and regional bodies. The book is a thoroughly researched and well-argued contemporary analysis of the long-standing human rights debate on universalism and cultural relativism. The book proceeds in five chapters, first introducing the universalism debate before turning to sources of human rights and dignity in societies around the world. Lenzerini provides detailed examples of human rights in pre-colonial societies, analyzing, inter alia, the Code of Hammurabi, the Qur’an, Confucianism, the Constitution of the Iroquois Nations, and Aztec and Incan texts. He concludes that from ancient times, ideas of human rights existed well beyond the “West.”1 Chapter Two notes that despite the development of “universal” human rights law at the international level, different parts of the world have retained their specific views on rights through regional instruments.2 Chapter Three sets out the culturally based approaches to human rights evident in international and regional law and practice. The in-depth study, including the African, European, Inter-American, and UN systems, concludes that culture today is recognized as an element to be considered in human rights adjudication.3 The fourth and final chapters articulate the advantages of a culturally based approach to human rights, as well as a methodology for identifying universal standards. The crucial issue Lenzerini addresses is not whether human rights can be interpreted and implemented in a culturally sensible manner, but to what extent. II. CULTURALIZATION OF HUMAN RIGHTS Like others, Lenzerini submits that almost all human rights include a cultural dimension4 resulting from the fact that “culture” includes features that characterize a society or social group, including the modes of life, the value systems, and the traditions and beliefs.5 As culture can [End Page 1110] play such a critical role in shaping the content of human rights for an individual or community, Lenzerini questions the traditional view that human rights are “wholly universal.”6 He subscribes to “moderate cultural relativism,” holding that cultural variations are acceptable to the extent that they do not impact upon the “basic core of fundamental rights which are universal.”7 Lenzerini advocates the “culturalization” of rights, an interpretive process by which the content of rights is made relevant for and tailored to communities around the world. This is necessary as people’s expectations differ, and human rights standards should be flexible to allow different expectations to be met in concrete ways.8 This process sits in contrast to the strict application of rigid international human rights norms regardless of the historical, social, and cultural context of the individual/community in question. Lenzerini’s culturalization can be compared to other culturally sensitive approaches to human rights advocated by scholars including Sally Engle Merry, Eva Brems, Abdullahi An-Na’im, Tom Zwart, and Alison Renteln.9 Yvonne Donders asserts that cultural sensitivity in human rights implementation is now generally accepted.10 In support of his approach, Lenzerini cites a number of benefits, including better community acceptance of human rights, improved effectiveness, and greater state compliance. He claims that culturalization promotes the “cultural acceptance, assimilation, and legitimization of human rights.”11 As a result, human rights are not perceived as “abstract dictates” from the outside, but are “brought down to earth” and seen as a key component of the social dynamics.12 As such, people support human rights as embedded and necessary, which may in turn increase state compliance.13 While this may be the case for nation-states, the process will arguably be more complicated...

The dual constitutionality of human rights, when they are protected through both domestic constitutional and international law, is a well-established dimension of the contemporary practice of human rights. Instead of exploring, as others have done before, how domestic constitutional law has been internationalized by international human rights law, on the one hand, or how international law has been constitutionalized through human rights law, on the other, this chapter addresses domestic and international human rights law together in an integrated fashion. This is what it refers to as transnational human rights law. The transnationality of human rights law corresponds to the complementary processes through which domestic and international human rights laws are made and specified, and hence mutually validated and legitimated. After some clarifications of the concept of transnationality in law in general and in human rights law in particular, the chapter justifies the transnationality of human rights law on democratic and epistemic grounds, before drawing implications for its determination methods, that is, human rights comparison and the transnational human rights consensus it thereby identifies.

Human rights queryfalse are typically presented in terms of entitlements, correlative duties, claims, “trumps,” and remedies. 1 These framings, which draw principally on law and philosophy, emphasi...