Transitional justice lessons for the climate reparations debate

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.

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...

After gross violations of human rights, what is one to do? This is the subject of transitional justice, a growth industry for intellectuals and policy makers after the Cold War. Should one prosecute individuals in international courts, or in hybrid or special courts, or in national courts? Should one avoid courts and rely on truth commissions, or bar violators from public office, or just move on to concentrate on building a rights-protective state in the future rather than looking back via criminal prosecution? There are many complexities facing those interested in international criminal justice – meaning those interested in whether to prosecute against the background of international human rights and humanitarian norms. Beyond punishment of evildoers, one needs to keep in mind other possible goals of transitional justice: deterring future atrocities, bringing psychological closure to victims and/or relatives, producing reconciliation among divided communities, building a rights-protective polity in the future, adjusting to the lingering power of elements of the old regime.

This chapter considers the accuracy of interpretations and, to some extent, translations in international and hybrid criminal courts settings and looks at the effects of both linguistic and paralinguistic (nonverbal) misinterpretations on the effectiveness of the international criminal process and, in particular, the effects these can have on the quality of trials, procedural fairness, and ultimately defense rights. Specifically, the rights to seek and expect from international criminal courts and tribunals competent and effective language services, as well as the corresponding right to review translated transcripts and relevant documents, are considered here. As this chapter tries to demonstrate, the protection and further development of these specific rights are essential to the requirements of procedural fairness alongside the rights to equality before the law, equality of arms, and the right to a fair trial. Although statutes and rules of international courts and tribunals assert that equal treatment before the law, as recognized in international human rights law, requires that there be no significant disparity in trial and punishment regimes in individual cases, there remain considerable outcome problems in these complex multilingual and multicultural settings. Right to equality before the law and the right to a fair trial are examined here with a particular reference to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights 1996 (ICCPR) Article 14. Case law reveals in fact that equal and equitable protection of fundamental procedural pretrial and trial rights remains inconsistent and that the determination of the nature of ICCPR provisions is contradictory. Given the complexity of most international criminal trials, some practical interpretation and translations problems may be readily recognized and anticipated. Nevertheless, the responsibility to fully explore reasons and conditions that lead to potentially procedurally and ethically unjust trial outcomes rests on the judiciary. The responsibility to provide effective remedies in individual cases rests on them too. Importantly, these courts and tribunals are based and legitimized on the basis of their legal foundations and principles deriving from the rule of law, such as independence, transparency, and accountability. In turn, the rule of law increasingly requires that international justice is administered by applying norms that promote and protect elevated, and not just minimum, human rights standards and fundamental values of equality, fairness, and justice. By analyzing statutes and rules of procedure and evidence of international courts and their proceedings as well as studying court transcripts and simultaneous translations in different international criminal law jurisdictions (mainly the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY), the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR), and the International Criminal Court), the chapter examines whether the review of court transcripts in the second (translated) language could amount to a procedural right in international criminal law.

I want to make three points in connection with David's lecture, looking at his subject from my own perspective, i.e., that of a judge in an international criminal tribunal. First, I want to consider the specific function of international criminal courts and tribunals as finders. Secondly, I will examine how international criminal courts fit into David's theoretical picture of top-down versus bottom-up judicial bodies. Thirdly, I wish to convey some of my concerns arising from the multiplication of proceedings (criminal and civil) arising from the same facts before different international courts and tribunals. International Criminal Courts as Truth Finders A new feature of the international legal order in the past few decades has undoubtedly been the reemergence of international criminal courts, with the ad hoc criminal tribunals of the United Nations (the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY) and the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR)), the regional mixed international tribunals (Sierra Leone, Cambodia, East Timor), and the permanent International Criminal Court (ICC). The driving impulses behind the creation of these institutions may, as David mentioned in his lecture, differ from those behind the classical international courts and tribunals. One of the functions of international criminal law courts is that of providing a historical account and achieving reconciliation of post-conflict societies that have gone through a painful episode of mass atrocities. This is something which they share with another newcomer in the international legal order, and reconciliation commissions (TRCs), which in part originate from the same generating impulses. The latter may even be complementary to international criminal adjudication, as Tom suggested in his Holocaust memorial lecture, wondering whether the post-World War II criminal proceedings in Nuremberg should not have been complemented by a commission that could have examined the greater patterns of the historical behind the holocaust. (1) According to some, international criminal courts have, as far as finding process is concerned, little to add to the truth as it is revealed by journalists or historians, who base themselves on largely the same sources. I beg to disagree with that view. The finding process before criminal courts is of a different qualitative nature, because it is obtained through the specific rules of evidence that apply in criminal proceedings, above all the presumption of innocence and the prosecutorial burden of proof. What has been established by a criminal court following a correct procedure can therefore be said to be more credible in terms of its truthfulness than the produced by journalism or history writing. For example, for those who would wish to deny the Srebrenica massacre, it may have been easier to do so when only journalistic and historical accounts of the 1995 event were available than it is today after the judgments of the ICTY in which two panels of judges (first the Trial Chamber and thereafter the Appeals Chamber) found the facts to be established. This function of finding, and the contribution to history writing that results from this, may be one of the core missions for international criminal courts. In post conflict societies, different versions of the traumatic events often compete with each other. (2) It is extremely difficult for national courts in a post conflict society to make an unbiased assessment of these different versions, especially shortly after the events. This assessment is, however, a crucial factor in the process of transition. Without it, post conflict societies will have little more than annals of these traumatic events, produced by journalists and historians. (3) Through the process of judicial fact finding, international criminal courts help to sort out competing accounts of traumatic events in a conflict situation and to determine the account that will count as the official history that society. …

INTRODUCTION. The practice of modern international criminal courts and tribunals raises serious questions about the proper enforcement of the rights of the accused. Among these rights, the accused's right to compensation is highlighted. Compensation is given to the accused (regardless of the verdict) for violation of his procedural rights and fundamental human rights and compensation to the acquitted person.MATERIALS AND METHODS. The analysis of ensuring the human right to compensation in the event of an unjust sentence is carried out on the basis of international human rights treaties, treaties on the creation of international courts, including appeal to the travaux preparatoires of the Statute of the International Criminal Court (ICC) and the practice of international criminal courts and tribunals, especially the ICC, as well as the International Tribunal for Rwanda and the International Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia. The study was conducted using general scientific methods of cognition (in particular, analysis and synthesis), as well as comparative legal, historical legal and formal dogmatic methods. To achieve the corresponding conclusions, various methods of interpretation of the rule of law are used, in particular, grammatical, systematic, teleological, harmonic, etc.RESEARCH RESULTS. In the activities of international criminal courts and tribunals, a violation of the accused’s right to a hearing within a reasonable time is systemic, including due to the absence of any procedural deadlines on the one hand, and the absence of any rules (or their non-application) to restore the rights of the accused and punishment of the party who committed the violation of these rights. This situation poses serious problems of ensuring the rights of specific accused (including justified), but also the development of modern international criminal procedural law and international human rights law.DISCUSSION AND CONCLUSIONS. National legislation and international human rights instruments provide for the right of an acquitted person to compensation. In international criminal courts, this issue, however, is addressed in different ways. The statutes of international criminal courts ad hoc created by the UN Security Council do not mention the right to compensation for an accused or acquitted person. At the same time, the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda recognized that the absence of a reference to law in the Statute of the Tribunal does not mean that the persons concerned do not have the corresponding right. At the same time, this recognition did not have practical consequences. The Statute of the International Criminal Court recognizes the right to compensation, however, does so to a limited extent. Thus, in international criminal courts and tribunals, the provision of the human right to compensation (primarily compensation to an acquitted person) is performed at a lower level than that established in international human rights treaties.

The third wave of democratization has meant the end of autocratic rule and oppressive state-sponsored practices in many countries around the world. Yet the transition from authoritarianism and state-sponsored terror to more open and participatory societies has its own imperatives. After autocratic rule and protracted conflicts, it is necessary to heal the wounds caused by years, sometimes decades, of mistrust, fear, and violence. Systematic violations of human rights, in the form of oppression, physical and psychological violence, and death, leave lasting individual and collective wounds. Transitional (or restorative) justice is designed to address and (hopefully) mitigate such legacies left by the previous regime. In doing so, it draws on a variety of instruments: criminal prosecutions, special tribunals, amnesties, apologies, memorials, lustrations, and truth commissions (TCs), among others. The end of the Cold War also gave a new impetus to international criminal justice. Special tribunals for the former Yugoslavia, for Rwanda, and for Sierra Leone were established, as was, most prominently, the International Criminal Court, originated in the 1999 Rome Treaty and based in The Hague. For many, this portends a major shift in international relations, one in which the traditional, Westphalian, and sovereignty-centered international system gives way to another, based on more porous units, in which individual and human rights have more sway and human rights abuses trigger a more proactive international reaction. In turn, these developments have given rise to a whole new field of study: transitional justice. This is an interdisciplinary field in which political science, law, sociology, history, anthropology, psychology, theology, and other disciplines converge. Not surprisingly, since transitional justice emerges as a result of the developments described above, it is, much like democratization and political transitions, also marked by contingency and paradox. Transitions are fluid and political action and the uses of the law find themselves under a different set of rules than under ordinary circumstances. Grasping the transformative opportunities presented by the conjuncture becomes a key test of political leadership. (1) Truth commissions have emerged as a popular tool of transitional justice, especially in cases where a delicate balance between the extant remnants of the previous regime coexist with the new dispensation. (2) TCs have come to the fore because of their flexibility, their open-endedness, and their ability to act as a bridge of sorts between an evil past and a democratic present, thus laying the foundations for a future society at peace with itself. At first, transitional justice was mainly concerned with transitions from authoritarian to democratic rule. However, after the large number of internal conflicts that arose in the post-Cold War era, it has also been applied within the wider panoply of nation- and peacebuilding instruments following the end of a war or conflict. This has been especially true for Africa. Some transitional justice tools, like TCs, have shown to be so prevalent and useful for a variety of reasons that they are now deployed in advanced Western democracies, like Canada, to investigate historical human rights abuses as well as to investigate the conditions that led to the breakdown of democracy, as happened with the TC set up in Honduras after the June 2009-January 2010 crisis. Especially in Latin America and Africa, TCs as well as truth and reconciliation commissions have been deployed to come to terms with past injustices while rebuilding trust in government and among social groups, although they have also been deployed in Asia, Europe, and North America. (3) While they share a number of common features, TCs must reflect local specificities to address the crimes of the past amidst the fluid, uncertain, and challenging conditions that are the hallmark of democratic transitions. …

The 2021 edition both updates readers on the important work of long-standing international tribunals and introduces readers to more novel topics in international law. The Yearbook continues to provide expert coverage of the Court of Justice of the European Union and diverse tribunals from the International Court of Justice (ICJ) to criminal tribunals such as the International Criminal Court (ICC) and the International Residual Mechanism for Criminal Tribunals (MICT), to economically based tribunals such as ICSID and the WTO Dispute Resolution panel. This edition contains original research articles on the development and analysis of the concept of global law and the views of the global law theorists such as: a comprehensive analysis of the legal frameworks on Norway, Sweden and Finland in respect of the rights of the Sami people; the philosophical grounds of the human right to environment; the EU's challenge in addressing Member State which reject foundational EU values of the Lisbon Treaty; and how international human rights are present in the law and the practices of international and hybrid criminal courts and tribunals. The Yearbook provides students, scholars, and practitioners alike a valuable combination of expert discussion and direct quotes from the court opinions to which that discussion relates, as well as an annual overview of the process of cross-fertilization between international courts and tribunals.

El presente trabajo pretende dar una respuesta fundamentada al cuestionamiento relacionado con los crímenes acaecidos en el momento que termina un conflicto armado y mediante la forma de la justicia de transición se retoma el camino a la paz; esto analizando en el entorno de Uruguay.
 El tema de justicia de transición es muy amplio porque pretende reparar a las víctimas y dar respuesta a muchas interrogantes sobre la verdad y la justicia, con el objetivo añadido de luchar contra la impunidad y devolver las bases para la pacífica convivencia en sociedad.
 Los procesos de JT, que deambulan entre la política real y los principios de justicia, tienen que resolver: ¿Cómo responder a las más graves injusticias manteniendo un sesgo de justicia en la reacción?
 Los modelos de transición, aunque puedan estar sujetos al control de cortes internacionales de Derechos Humanos, no pueden ser estandarizados, porque ellos varían y dependen de las características de una sociedad y de muchas variables que pueden determinar que en situaciones similares se puedan adoptar modelos de transición opuestos.
 No existe un sistema de justicia de transición aplicable como modelo de solución para todos los casos. El tipo de justicia de transición puede variar con el tiempo, y para ello guarda estrecha relación con las relaciones de fuerza entre la actual y la antigua elite en el poder.
 Sin embargo, la justicia de transición no es solo un hecho local, porque ella está sometida a controles de órganos internacionales encargados de la protección de los Derechos Humanos como la Corte Interamericana de Derechos Humanos y órganos internacionales como la Corte Penal Internacional encargados de la persecución penal de algunos crímenes considerados de especial gravedad (Olasolo / Galain, 2013, pp. 1261-1314).
 Por eso, una sociedad no es totalmente libre para adoptar un modelo basado en el olvido y ausencia de investigación y castigo, por ejemplo, mediante una amnistía general e irrestricta; y por eso, algunos principios adquieren validez universal, como por ejemplo, el deber de reparación de las víctimas, el deber de investigar para conocer lo sucedido (verdad) y el deberde memoria (Reyes Mate, 2011).
 Si analizamos el caso uruguayo, podemos advertir que la justicia de transición no es una instancia exclusivamente local o que pueda ser resuelta por los ciudadanos según principios democráticos de resolución de conflictos graves, sino que ella se enmarca en diversos procesos o procedimientos que permanecen ligados a determinadas obligaciones estatales con la comunidad internacional y a la agenda de los Derechos Humanos.

The jurisdiction of the International Criminal Court (hereinafter: ICC) is limited to the most serious crimes of concern to the entire international community that threaten security, peace, and well-being of the world. This article argues that serious (transitional) economic offences should belong in this group. Ignoring these crimes, which often represent economic violence characteristic of transitional and post-conflict countries, can lead to another cycle of armed conflict and/or physical violence as well as to internal and external insecurity. Responses to globalization are having a significant effect on international law and institutions with a view to protecting economic and social human rights, human security, and human dignity. Sometimes, as in the case of Croatia, national states are not able to and/or unwilling to prosecute serious and systemic economic crimes, which in turn undermines individual and collective security. The same could be said for international criminal law. By ignoring these crimes and violations – unlike what international human rights law, supranational criminology, and transitional justice does – the core international criminal law no longer responds to the needs of societies and individuals. The Rechtsgut in need of protection by prosecuting serious economic crimes that fulfill the threshold of core crimes on an international level is comprised of the “security, peace and well-being of the world.” Therefore, one could argue that the International Criminal Court’s possible involvement in economic violence does have a legal base, without needing to amend the ICC’s Statute (hereinafter: ICCSt). Since one must be aware of the diversity that exists as to the criteria for international criminalization, this article is based on broader grounds in order to argue in favor of international criminalization of these economic crimes. The article therefore emphasizes the importance of connecting narratives of international criminal law, with discourses on international human rights law (based on Art. 21 of the ICCSt), human security, (supranational) criminology, transitional justice, and (economic) criminal law. In the line of (human) security discourse, this approach seeks to find arguments as to whether or not it is necessary to begin prosecuting serious (transitional) economic offences as crimes under international law. First, this article gives a brief overview of the failed experiment in Croatia concerning the prosecution of transitional economic crimes that served as incentive, based on the ICC’s complementarity principle.

The objectives of the paper are to investigate the axiomatic truth and record the human wrongdoings of the past, deliver justice to the victims at present, make perpetrators accountable and initiate generous change in the rule of law for prosperous, peaceful and harmonious nation. The state-of-the-art paper is prepared based upon literature review, exchanging and sharing, and a practical observation approach rather than theoretical-analytical conception, except Generation. An interdisciplinary (politico-legal) word, ‘Transitional Justice’ (TJ) is healing the violations and/or abuses of yesterday, investigating and reconciling today and hoping to protect the tomorrow for not only a few privileged, but for the people of all Generations. The Generation tends to ascertain cause, nature, degree and patterns of identity-based crimes and genocide, determine the role of perpetrators and analyze the impact of the Truth Commission. Generally, Generation refers to the biological age groupings (20 to 30 years) that live together and share similar characteristics – attitudes, behaviors, contexts, sufferings and cultures. The paper reviews over 90 TJ countries in Five Generations (I, II, III, IV and 0), starting from the post-World War II to the present day world. Generation-I presents a genesis of TJ, a notion changed from the holocaust to the retributive justice which comprises the analyses of Nuremberg Trial and Tokyo Tribunal. Rather than making the main perpetrators involved in World War (WW) II accountable, the Nuremberg Trial has been a holier-than-thou betrayal to the Germans by a pseudo trial, and immunity to ‘French, Soviet Union, Americans, British and Japanese Emperor’ and Geneva Convention violators owing to a high political masquerading and retribution. Generation-II reveals a notion changed from internecine war crimes to humanitarian justice. It compares and contrasts the functions of the Truth Commissions that have a direct structural link with perpetrators’ four Ds (viz. delay, deceive, deny and dilute) approaches of TJ. Beyond domestication, TJ is an international human rights law, international criminal law and international humanitarian law. TJ has been more political in nature and less legal in practice. Generation-III tends to a notion changed from domestic criminal jurisprudence to international tribunal justice. The western developed and non-signatory nations of the Rome Statute try hard to establish and control the International Criminal Court (ICC) to their bad relation with post-conflict countries. Generation-IV discloses a  notion changed from sectarian violence to reconcile justice. In such cases, non-state elite actors normally engage against the weak and poor people to prove their superiority conducting communal apartheid and cultural genocide. Lastly, Generation-0 (Zero) refers to a notion changed for justice establishing the Truth Commission. Truth Commissions have been unable to identify and investigate the human rights violations and/or abuses in the post-conflict periods, despite huge national and international pressures. Generally, what for transitional justice: victor (perpetrator) or loser (victim and or survivor)? The answer is: ‘world’s Transitional Justice ironically ensures freedom to the perpetrators further limiting justice to the poor and weak victims and society at large’ in all Generations. On the other, the universe moves towards the identity-based multi-polar new world order setting owing to innumerable interests and practices of the Transitional Justice system.

This book analyses how international criminal institutions, and their actors – legal counsels, judges, investigators, registrars – construct witness identity and memory. Filling an important gap within transitional justice scholarship, this conceptually led and empirically grounded interdisciplinary study takes the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR) as a case study. It asks: How do legal witnesses of human rights violations contribute to memory production in transitional post-conflict societies? Witnessing at tribunals entails individuals externalising memories of violations. This is commonly construed within the transitional justice legal scholarship as an opportunity for individuals to ensure their memories are entered into an historical record. Yet this predominant understanding of witness testimony fails to comprehend the nature of memory. Memory construction entails fragments of individual and collective memories within a contestable and contingent framing of the past. Accordingly, the book challenges the claim that international criminal courts and tribunals are able to produce a collective memory of atrocities; as it maintains that witnessing must be understood as a contingent and multi-layered discursive process. Contributing to the specific analysis of witnessing and memory, but also to the broader field of transitional justice, this book will appeal to scholars and practitioners in these areas, as well as others in legal theory, global criminology, memory studies, international relations, and international human rights.

To better understand the dynamics between states and international human rights courts, international relations scholars must incorporate a systematic understanding of how nongovernmental rights activists influence the decisions of international human rights courts—for instance, the European Court of Human Rights and the Inter-American Court of Human Rights—and the impacts of those decisions on the ground, despite growing state backlash against international human rights courts. To date, several bodies of literature have considered these questions, but none have placed nongovernmental activists’ roles in full focus. The international relations and international law scholarship on judicialization of international politics and state compliance often acknowledges but does not thoroughly examine the role of activists in international law. In contrast, a second body of scholarship, on transnational advocacy networks and legal mobilization, often does theorize the role of activists in international and domestic politics but rarely focuses on activism in international human rights courts. While both bodies of literature acknowledge that nonstate actors influence the practice of international human rights courts, they have not proposed an analytical framework that encapsulates the dynamic relationships among nonstate actors, states, and international human rights courts. By proposing a framework on these relationships, we argue that, beyond simply influencing the outcome of a case in an international court, rights activists—whether NGOs or individual cause lawyers—have multiple reverberating effects upon all stages of case development and political impact. We identify and illustrate three fields in which the strategic efforts of activists play out, with significant consequences for courts’ authority over time. These fields are: (1) strategic litigation activity, (2) advocacy to improve states’ implementation of international human rights courts’ jurisprudence, and (3) responses to state backlash. Taken together, these fields can point us to an analytical path to study the practices of rights activists at international courts.

Although international human rights law establishes the individual right to receive reparations, collective reparations have been considered a common response from judicial and non-judicial bodies to reparations for victims of gross violations of human rights. As such, collective reparations have been awarded within the field of international human rights law, international criminal law and transitional justice. Yet the concept, content and scope of collective reparations are rather unspecified. To date, neither the judicial nor the non-judicial bodies that have granted this kind of reparations have ever defined them.This book presents the first study on collective reparations. It aims to shed light on the legal framework, content and scope of collective reparations, and to the relationship between collective reparations and the individual right to reparations. In order to do so, the book analyses specific case law from the Inter-American Court of Human Rights, the International Criminal Court and the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia. Additionally, the practices of non-judicial mechanisms were examined, specifically those of the Peruvian and Moroccan Truth Commissions and of two mass claims compensation commissions (the United Nations Compensation Commission and the Eritrea-Ethiopia Claims Commission). Finally, it provides an overview of the challenges that collective reparations present to the fields of international human rights law and international criminal law, including in their implementation.

INTRODUCTION. The article discusses the theoretical and practical problems of conducting trials in the absence of the accused (in absentia) in international criminal courts and tribunals.MATERIALS AND METHODS. The article is based on international human rights treaties that regulate the rights of the accused in criminal proceedings, the statutory and procedural documents of these courts, and the practice of interpreting and applying the right of the accused to be present at the trial.RESEARCH RESULTS. International human rights treaties establish the minimum rights of the accused in criminal proceedings. Among these rights is the right of the accused to be present at the trial. However, the practice of interpreting this right by the relevant conventional international bodies and international criminal courts and tribunals imposes significant limitations. A number of such restrictions appear to be both reasonable and justified. However, in many cases the restrictions are arbitrary and their justification is legally flawed.DISCUSSION AND CONCLUSIONS. Universal and a number of regional international human rights treaties, in particular, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights of 1966 contain norms that are binding not only for states in their application of national law, but also establish general human rights standards in international law. Due to this circumstance, the provisions of such treaties bind any institutions operating directly in the system of international law, in particular, international criminal courts and tribunals. Thus, international criminal courts and tribunals are bound by the provisions of these treaties, not only in terms of their implementation, but also in terms of their interpretation. The practice of these courts demonstrates a very inconsistent application and not always convincing interpretation of the rights of the accused in general and the right to be tried in his presence. Currently, this practice is trying to change the previously formed trend towards increasingly severe restrictions on exceptions to the right of the accused to be tried in his presence.