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News Roundup 12 July – 18 July

July 21, 2021

Aid access to Tigray remains stalled, despite ceasefire

UN appeals for faster passage for aid convoys to Ethiopia’s Tigray

Afghanistan stunned by scale and speed of security forces’ collapse

Afghanistan on brink of humanitarian crisis-UN refugee agency

U.S. condemns retaliatory attacks against civilians in Ethiopia’s Tigray region

EU agrees to send military training mission to Mozambique

Colombia peace process at critical juncture: UN envoy

Colombia’s ‘ghost towns’ threatened by new wave of violence

Attacks by armed group displace 20,000 civilians in eastern DRC

U.S. Slows Anti-Terrorist Campaign in Somalia as It Considers New Policy

Call for Papers – Conference on Religious Actors & Humanitarian Norms Compliance

July 12, 2021

The Generating Respect Project invites paper submissions for the conference Religious Actors & Humanitarian Norms Compliance in Armed Conflict: Roles, Influence, Engagement that will take place online between 8 and 10 December 2021.

The conference will take stock of important developments relating to the engagement between humanitarians and religious actors aimed at generating greater respect for humanitarian norms in times of armed conflict. It seeks to serve as a platform for exchange and reflection among scholars from across various disciplines, humanitarian practitioners, and religious actors.

The call for papers provides information about the thematic foci of the conference, its format, guidelines and deadlines for submission of abstracts and selected papers, and publication plans.

Please submit paper abstract of up to 500 words & a short CV with your current affiliation to generatingrespectproject@york.ac.uk by 1 September 2021.

News Roundup 21 June – 27 June

June 30, 2021

Child soldiers carried out Burkina Faso massacre, says government

Northeast Nigeria conflict killed more than 300,000 children: UN

Time running out to prevent ‘worst case scenario’ arising in Afghanistan

More than 8,500 children used as soldiers in 2020: U.N.

Grave violations against children in conflict ‘alarmingly high’, latest UN report reveals

Dozens of Congo’s rebels lay down weapons in the east

Slow progress, stubborn cycles of violence, as South Sudan turns 10

Myanmar militias vow to take on army after city firefight

Famine fears and fresh fighting: A humanitarian primer as Ethiopia heads to the polls

Regional Force in Mozambique Should Prioritize Civilian Protection

News Rondup 14 June – 20 June

June 23, 2021

Sudan to form new joint force to ‘crack down on insecurity’

Switzerland Finds Liberian Rebel Leader Guilty of Wartime Atrocities

Guterres: Bring crimes of sexual violence in conflict out of ‘the shadows’, punish perpetrators

Death of Boko Haram leader doesn’t end northeast Nigeria’s humanitarian crisis

Israeli air raids target Gaza for second time since ceasefire

From global cause to forgotten crisis: A reporter’s diary from Darfur

Uncovering the civilian toll of France’s anti-jihadist war in Mali

New ICC prosecutor vows to take “stronger cases” to trial

Sexual Violence and the War in Tigray

‘Our only option’: Myanmar civilians take up arms for democracy

News Roundup 7 June – 13 June

June 16, 2021

UN warns of ‘mass deaths’ in Myanmar after 100,000 flee fighting

The Appeals Chamber of the International Residual Mechanism for Criminal Tribunals delivers judgement in the Mladić case

World reacts as UN court upholds Mladic genocide conviction

Gaza’s vicious circle of war, truce, and reconstruction

Outgoing ICC Prosecutor urges Security Council to keep focus on justice in Darfur

Child kidnapping being used as warfare tactic in Mozambique, aid groups say

Iraqis suffer as US-Iran shadow war shifts gear

U.S. and UK envoys urge Yemen peace after blast kills at least 17

Fragile democratic gains at risk in Central Africa as violence by armed groups escalates

Former Colombia leader asks pardon for army killings of civilians

News Roundup 31 May – 6 June

June 9, 2021

West Africa’s Islamist insurgency: Fight at a critical stage

Caught in the middle: Peace activists in Cameroon try to end a brutal war

Will Israel be held accountable for war crimes?

UN calls on Sudan to move more swiftly on peace agreement

Pressuring junta, France suspends joint military operations with Malian forces

UN chief condemns deadly attacks targeting displaced people in DR Congo

Rise of armed civilian groups in Myanmar fuels fears of full-scale civil war

Mali: Military must ‘scrupulously’ respect human rights and free civilian leaders  

News Roundup 24 May – 30 May

June 2, 2021

Tools to protect civilians in conflict exist, but not the will to apply them, Lowcock tells Security Council

UN rights chief calls for inclusive peace process to end Palestine occupation

Biden urges ceasefire, end to ‘large-scale abuses’ in Tigray

Grave concerns over ‘dire’ and deteriorating situation in war-torn Tigray region

U.N. launches investigation into whether Israel, Hamas committed crimes

The young are key to avoiding old mistakes in Central African Republic

UN peacekeeper withdrawal leaves security vacuum in Darfur

Israel’s Gaza strikes may constitute ‘war crimes’: UN’s Bachelet

UN envoy warns of possible civil war in Myanmar, seeks talks

Tensions rise in Baghdad after arrest of militia commander

‘Lawmaking under Pressure’ Book Symposium – An Initial Response to Commentators

May 28, 2021

Giovanni Mantilla is University Lecturer in the Department of Politics and International Studies (POLIS) and Fellow of Christ’s College, Cambridge, and of the Lauterpacht Centre for International Law. His research investigates the politics of international lawmaking through multinational archival research, with emphasis on the international law of armed conflict and human rights law. It has appeared in leading academic journals, including International OrganizationEuropean Journal of International LawInternational Studies Quarterly, European Journal of International Law, and Journal of the History of International Law. Mantilla’s recently published book “Lawmaking under Pressure: International Humanitarian law and Internal Armed Conflict”  traces the origins and development of the international humanitarian treaty rules that now exist to regulate internal armed conflict and explores the global politics and diplomatic dynamics that led to the creation of such rules in 1949 and in the 1970s. The book was recently awarded the prestigious annual 2021 Francis Lieber prize from the American Society of International Law as the best book in the field of the law of armed conflict.

I am humbled by the generous comments of nine excellent readers of my book, Lawmaking under Pressure. Having worked on it for many years, to see this wide range of scholars and practitioners use superlative words to refer to it, is just thrilling. I can only hope that the book will eventually be seen as a “landmark history” and treated as an “indispensable source” across various fields.

This is an initial response to the readers’ comments. I cannot fully do them justice in this short format, but I aim to reach wide coverage by addressing some recurring themes.

As noted in my introductory post, I wrote Lawmaking under Pressure in the hopes of making interdisciplinary contributions across the fields of International Relations, International History, and International Law. For a junior scholar like me this was a gamble, took effort to achieve, and required deliberate choices and compromises.

Most obviously, despite my best interdisciplinary intentions, the book is clearly anchored in one discipline, International Relations (IR), and as some of the readers intuit, that choice brings with it virtues as well as vices.

From my perspective, the virtues of an IR anchoring are multiple. They include the ambition to develop a theoretical framework to explain the process of international humanitarian lawmaking for internal conflicts while envisioning a wider reach. Another is the fact that IR offers a clear set of plausible explanations through which I could organize the project at the start, and later use as foils (or platforms) to build my own argument.

A third virtue is methodological: increasing standards of evidence in IR historical/qualitative research compelled me to find as large and detailed a documentary corpus as I could in order to build  a precise and well-supported argument. This impetus (quite happily) sent me into several archives around the world.

The commentators’ general assessment indicates that the book succeeds on these fronts. That is, the central concepts and dynamics I theorize appear as useful for explaining not just humanitarian lawmaking but a larger array of lawmaking exercises, past and present, international and as domestic, even if doubts might remain as to the singular operation of social pressure (Boyd van Dijk) or of “forum isolation” (Verity Robson) in the production of particular legal outcomes.

Similarly, all readers praise the book’s thorough treatment of the historical process, even when, as discussed below, they are left wanting more.

Which brings me to the potential “vices” that may come with the IR lens: assuming rather than historicizing, a partial silencing of the voices of certain important actors, and a narrowing of the analytical focus, leading to important blind spots.

On the first point, in his illuminating post Alonso Gurmendi expands on a key question which my book largely treats as given: why exactly were states so allergic to internal violence, particularly in the nineteenth century? Rightly, Gurmendi reminds us that rather than “natural” this stance resulted from concrete historical experience, some of which he recounts. I cannot but agree with this observation, and thank him for elaborating historically on something that to IR scholars appears essentially as a self-evident. Note, however, that Chapter 2 of the book does address this theme to some extent by discussing the sociopolitical context of sovereignty in nineteenth-century Europe, including its imperialist, nationalist, and militarist tendencies. Still, I appreciate that more could be said about this, including, as Gurmendi explains, regarding guerilla warfare, levée en masse, or states’ attitudes against franc-tireurs.

For their part, Alejandro Chehtman, Kathryn Greenman (and Neta Crawford to a lesser extent) identify another important partial issue: the voices of non-Great Power or “peripheral” states are relatively muted in my explanatory narrative, well despite their importance for the production of the social pressure I underscore.

This is fair. I agree with Chehtman in attributing it to received inherited practices of theorizing from mainstream IR, particularly in the US. In a nutshell: given the predominance of “realism” in the post-World War II era, IR theory debates have since the 1960s tended to foreground (to treat as centrally important) the role of major powers in the making and running of the international system. This focus shaped the field subsequently, including by compelling theoretical alternatives to legitimate themselves (at least initially) by demonstrating the incompleteness or inadequacy of realism.

Luckily, writing in 2021 one can appreciate how much the field has changed — interparadigmatic debate is no longer the steering force in IR that it was before — yet vestiges of the above remain, including in how we “spin” our research for publication in high-ranking journals. Research does tend to appear more intriguing when it contradicts baseline expectations of major power protagonism or predominance. Being trained and socialized in US IR academia, I inherited this “framing” habit, and have benefitted from it.

Note, though, that the problem is not necessarily with the intrinsic merits of this framing. Instead, the issue is that even work (like mine) which theorizes the importance of peripheral actors in world politics in practice may end up giving Great Powers the analytical centerstage.

In the book, the states doing the social pressuring came from Latin America, Africa, Asia, the socialist bloc, as well as parts of Europe. Yet when analyzing some central moments before and during diplomatic negotiations, I zoom most deeply into the attitudes and strategies of powerful states, particular Britain, France, and the United States. Although other states and actors remain present and centrally important, their voices become muted in the narrative.

All this to say, I agree! And I admit as much in the book’s closing line. Viewed positively, this partial weakness presents an opportunity for future scholarship to continue granting attention to the critical importance of the “Global South” or the “Third World” in the making and operation of international law, norms, and institutions. Fortunately, this now appears to be a trend across fields, with no sign of stopping.

It should be said that this type of transnational research takes huge amounts of time, effort, and luck. Constraints of funding and time certainly influenced my choices. And as Chehtman suggests, so did archival availability. Having looked through the government archives of Mexico, Colombia, and Ireland, I found only very few sources relevant to IHL lawmaking, which may either say something about these countries’ substantive interests or about the politics of archiving.

Nevertheless, the little material I found proved the effort was worthwhile: evidence from Mexico for example revealed that country’s delegates in 1949 were explicitly instructed to pressure the European empires to accept the inclusion of internal conflicts in the Geneva Conventions, refusing to let them get away with their colonial attitudes.

Broader research may not just give us a “global history” of IHL. It may also help untangle some of the remaining puzzles Boyd van Dijk highlights in post regarding the origins and negotiation of Common Article 3, or uncover concrete evidence regarding the ulterior political motives adduced by Greenman. My book certainly does not address every interesting angle or potential negotiating motive, though I believe I have given robust answers to the puzzles I do raise.

At least for the case of Common Article 3, archival evidence across five states overwhelmingly pointed to its being perceived as a check on sovereignty, and only for the case of the Soviet Union did I seriously suspect an ulterior motive to lie behind its supportive stance. I now hope to learn more from other scholars, including Van Dijk and Greenman themselves, who may be able to harness an even wider range of sources, potentially contradicting my view.

This brings me to the last potential “vice”: a narrowing of my analytical lens, with its associated blind spots. Several readers note this in different ways: Charli Carpenter, Greenman, Chehtman, and Verity Robson all rightly comment that the book’s tight focus on historical treatymaking misses the posterior life of the law after codification, particularly the ways in which the rules’ meaning, application, and development eventually expanded and unfolded since the 1970s.

Separately, van Dijk, and Katharine Fortin remark upon two further blind spots: a partial inattention to important precedents (the ICRC’s involvement in colonial settings before 1949), and the early importance of human rights ideas in the development of IHL since the 1940s.

Here again I agree: although I labored to present a well-contextualized and historically-rich narrative, considerations of research design, as well as more practical ones of readability, colored my choices and produced omissions.

In terms of research design, I chose to keep my eye as closely as possible on question of the emergence of the fascinating and complex treaty instruments that make up this branch of IHL. Explanation of these treaty rules was uncharted territory in IR scholarship, and given enduring debates about them among historians and lawyers, I felt they merited my central attention. My research later confirmed this to have been wise: the sheer amount of previously-unexplored archival material on treatymaking ballooned its way into a 420-page-long PhD dissertation!

This narrowing choice also entailed organizing my research specifically around theories of normative emergence and lawmaking. Much though I wanted to, incorporating the “after-codification” period would have meant bringing in additional conceptual tools, inevitably complicating and elongating my framework. In the end, I followed the sage advice that no book could do everything and that leaving other aspects of the process for future examination made good sense. 

My other reason was more straightforward: as a first time author hoping to reach as many readers as possible, I worked to keep the book relatively tight and trim, featuring just enough material to appeal to (or avoid turning off!) the interdisciplinary audience I sought to reach.

In short, I could not explain or include everything that seemed interesting and relevant. A lot of fascinating evidence ended up on the cutting floor.

With that in mind, I warmly thank Carpenter, Greenman, Chehtman, as well as the ICRC’s Iris Mueller, for expanding upon these various aspects of the “post-codification” history in their thoughtful responses. As they all make clear, well beyond the politicking of treaty negotiations, the IHL applicable to internal conflict has over time transformed in important ways.

A process of “normative pull-forward”, as Carpenter calls it, has certainly taken place, both to positive effects (expanding the protective aspects of the law, highlighted by Carpenter and Mueller) and negative ones (governments instrumentalizing IHL partially to neutralize human rights law, as Chehtman notes for the Colombian case). A discussion of these crucial moves of interpretation, litigation, and advocacy is no doubt essential for achieving a fuller understanding of the law’s possibilities and limits.

On the connection between human rights and IHL, again I issue a partial mea culpa. While Chapter 5 of the book does feature their crucial interconnection around 1968, I generally overlook their ideational imbrication and politicized relationship before then, and after. These sibling regimes’ complicated relationship and entangled histories deserves the scrutiny that scholars like van Dijk and Fortin are granting it. Again, I hope to continue learning from their excellent work.

I close by agreeing with Robson – compromise through lawmaking is certainly an art, though in my view it is a deeply political art, rooted in concrete global and localized histories and struggles and borne out of complex motivations and shrewd diplomatic moves. I hope to have made those points clearly visible for the treaty IHL “humanizing” internal conflict in Lawmaking under Pressure. To what extent and how such political compromising actually limited or enhanced the law’s eventual influence remains fertile research terrain; Fortin, Carpenter, Chehtman, and Greeman all remind us of it. International lawmaking surely is political, yet as the last few decades demonstrate, international law and politics always allow for some unexpected surprises.

“Lawmaking Under Pressure” Book Symposium – A retelling of the history of internal conflicts: political fireworks, a post-script to the ‘dreaded article 1’ of API and an agenda for future research

May 28, 2021

Katharine Fortin is an Assistant Professor at Utrecht University where she teaches international humanitarian law and international human rights. Before joining Utrecht University, she worked at the ICTY, ICC and Norton Rose Fulbright. She is the author of The Accountability of Armed Groups under Human Rights Law (Oxford University Press, 2017) which won the 2018 Lieber Prize. Katharine has written widely about the framework of law that applies to armed groups in non-international armed conflicts and she is one of the editors of the Armed Groups and International Law blog. She has recently started a 3-year NWO-Veni research project called ‘Dangerous Liaisons: civilian agency, armed groups and international law’.

Lawmaking under Pressure is a fascinating chronicle of the drafting history of the treaty provisions that apply to non-international armed conflict. Starting in 1863, the book asks why and how states, commonly concerned with their sovereignty – particularly regarding internal security affairs – have adopted legally binding international rules to constrain their ability to counter organized violence within their borders. Rather than focusing on the substantive provisions of the articles, the book takes the reader backstage into the diplomatic world behind global lawmaking, highlighting the pressures, compromises, face-saving and political maneuvering that dominate the treaty-making processes.

Drawing on archival records relevant to the drafting conference for the Geneva Conventions and Additional Protocols, Mantilla shows how the drafting States conducted a complex juggling act during the Diplomatic Conferences, weighing and re-weighing different but interconnected goals and priorities on a daily basis, paying just as much heed to political dynamics relating to the power relations in the negotiating room, as to the substance being debated (i.e. the legal regulation of armed conflict). The book provides a fascinating insight into the political history behind the changing text of common Article 3, Article 1, 43 and 96  of API and Additional Protocol II. In this post, I will briefly focus on what I find particularly valuable about the book and some issues on which I would have liked a little more detail.

High tensions and political fireworks

One of the great pleasures of  this book is the engaging manner in which it is written. Particularly in chapter 3 and 5 which deal with the drafting of common Article 3, Additional Protocol I and Additional Protocoll II, Mantilla vividly brings the backstage diplomatic atmosphere to life by peppering his writing with quotes from diplomatic sources that betray rising anxiety (‘our delegations worst forebodings…. Have come true….”) (p87), a weary pragmatism (”half a loaf is better than no bread”) (p95) and emotion (the Swiss…. thought the session was “deplorable” and declared that they were ready “to do what they can to pick up the pieces”, the French delegation was “depressed”) (p149). A lavish employment of these kinds of quotes, combined with enjoyable sub-titles like ‘Living to Fight Another Day’, ‘The Moment of Truth’ and ‘A Crucial Meeting’, ‘Pressured Empires Strike Back’, brings the high drama of the Diplomatic Conferences to life. Mantilla gives the reader a sense of the tensions and political fireworks going on both behind the scenes and in the negotiating rooms. As the drafting process goes on, Mantilla also feeds these emotions back into the narrative itself, amusingly starting to call Article 1 of API ‘the dreaded Article 1’ in his own text.

For scholars who have worked with the drafting papers of these treaties a lot, the value of this book is that it tells the story that we already know using completely new materials, in a narrative moulded from the concerns and priorities from a mix of different disciplines e.g. international relations, social psychology and international legal history. It brings to light chilling and elucidating backstage utilitarian calculations, hypocrisy, manipulation and racism by the Western group of States, who schemed to make sure that – wherever possible – what they gave with one hand, they took away with the other (a dynamic Mantilla calls ‘covert pushback’). For example, the book shows that the vague scope of application of common Article 3 was a deliberate attempt to provide States with a means to refuse its application. It also tells how the insertion of Article 96 in API was a unequivocal attempt to undo the ‘damage’ some States saw to have been done by Article 1.  Yet, the book also makes clear that the political process was too complex to identify good players and contrast them with bad players. Indeed, Mantilla shows how many of the Third World states who were pushing for national liberation movements to be treated as international actors with rights and obligations akin to States under API, were utterly allergic to any provisions implying that armed groups involved in (nonliberation) internal conflicts should have legal personality under APII. Equally, it shows how the few drafting States who were pushing for the text of APII to retain its full range of humanitarian provisions were seen by other States to be in effect threatening to sink the entire instrument. In other words, Mantilla shows that the final treaty texts are not a compromise that emerged out of a battle between two opposite forces (e.g. military necessity v humanitarian, sovereignty v communitarianism) but instead compromises that emerged out of a complex combination of eddying, unpredictable and sometimes contradictory forces relating to backstage politics, coalition building, normative wagering and social anxiety.

What was at stake?

Perhaps due to the book’s focus on procedure and politics, there are places in the book where one has the feeling that the analytical lens Mantilla employs is not wide enough to take account of the international legal universe in which international humanitarian law has its place. For example, one small critique is that the book little attention is given to the intertwined fates of international human rights law and international humanitarian law. As a result, when reading about the high drama that accompanied the drafting of the Additional Protocols and the heightened tension that arose from States’ anxieties about international norms infringing upon their sovereignty, a reader might be forgiven for concluding that IHL was the only legal framework that would apply in internal armed conflict. If Additional Protocol II not survived, there would have been legal vacuum except for CA3. Yet, of course, this isn’t true. The complementarity between international humanitarian law and international human rights law can be traced back to 1948-9, when ICRC delegates attended the drafting of the UDHR. Indeed, long before the famous Tehran Declaration of 1968, it was regularly recognized by the United Nations that human rights law applies to the kinds of situations that are under study in Mantilla’s book i.e. situations of internal unrest and internal conflicts (Fortin, 2012, van Dijk 2018). When this perspective is recalled, it becomes interesting to ask whether the application of human rights law to internal armed conflicts was in the drafters’ minds during the drafting of the Additional Protocols? Indeed, now that we have all this fascinating detail regarding what was in their minds regarding IHL, it would be interesting to know more about this aspect too.

It is also interesting to look back at these debates with the benefit of hindsight, which is a perspective that is not adopted by the book. Indeed, when we look back on this drafting history – in the knowledge of how the law on NIAC targeting has developed in subsequent years with increased acceptance of a membership criteria for armed groups –  it becomes interesting to consider how States might feel about some of the issues relating to the ‘threshold’ of IHL today. One has the impression that Mantilla sees IHL as being a purely restrictive framework for the parties to the armed conflict, but increasingly we see that just like Rubin’s vase – that famous image where the same lines can produce two faces and a vase at the same time – IHL can be both permissive and restrictive at the same time. As a result, its application often brings both advantages and disadvantages to States.  

A postscript re dreaded Article 1

Another detail in the story that we can add with hindsight is a small but significant postscript to Mantilla’s telling of the story of the ‘dreaded Article 1’ of API. Indeed, Mantilla ends the story of Article 1 of API with the rather gloomy prognosis that the insertion of Article 96 ensured that ‘API was unlikely to ever apply to such wars’. Yet, he does not note that in fact Article 96 was in fact used with success in 2015. Indeed, in June 2015 the Polisario Front made a unilateral declaration under Article 96(3) of API which was accepted by the Swiss Federal Council, acting in its role as the depository. While the Polisario Front was not the first national liberation movement to try and make use of this provision, it was the first national liberation movement to have its declaration accepted by the Swiss depository. As a result, it can be seen that the last-minute Article 96 insertion that so ‘pleased’ its actors did not completely stymie the application of API to liberation wars.

Avenues for future research and final reflections

In the conclusions, Mantilla reflects on several social and legal developments since the 1970s, some very recent, that may be relevant to future thinking on the issue of lawmaking and armed conflict. When reflecting on the role that social pressure and fear of social opprobrium played in the drafting processes in the 1970s (generally pushing the text towards a more humanitarian outcome), he questions – clearly with the Trump administration in mind –  whether social opprobrium would play a similar role in any drafting process today. He also mulls over the move towards ‘custom’ in international humanitarian law, a law-making process that evades the fraught political maneuvering and compromise required by treaty law.  While it is sometimes argued that custom is a less legitimate source of law to treaty law due to its unwritten character (d’Aspremont, 164, and for a recent discussion, Hakimi 2020), Mantilla expresses cautious optimism about the expansion of custom in this field pointing to the ‘prolonged, haphazard and fragile’ (my emphasis) outcomes of treaty rule codification for internal conflict. In making this conclusion on ‘fragility’, one catches a glimpse of a new research question that is clearly brewing at the back of Mantilla’s mind, that is articulated more fully later in his conclusions. The question is this: do socially pressured, prolonged and contentious treaty drafting processes such as those that produced the Additional Protocols create the same strength of norm – from a compliance perspective – as treaty norms that emerge out of a less fractious process? Most lawyers would be quick to say ‘no’, pointing out that the ‘bindingness’ of the resulting provisions is the same, no matter how fractious the process and arguing that those responsible for a treaty’s implementation would tend to be oblivious to the drama that went into its drafting, but it would be fascinating to see further research on this question.

At the end of the book, Mantilla identifies some of the book’s limitations with a view to identifying avenues for future research. Most importantly, he points out that the story the book tells is based mainly on archival material from the ICRC, France, Switzerland, UK and US. He rightly argues that there is a need for new histories of the same issue written on the basis of a review of archives located in the Global South. It is hoped that in these new histories, there might be more details also on the participation of the national liberation movements in the drafting of Additional Protocol I. Not only would it be interesting to learn more about their (perceived) contribution to the Diplomatic Conference, but their presence at the drafting conferences also raise interesting questions relevant to Mantilla’s theories regarding social pressure during drafting processes. For example, do the dynamics of ‘social pressure’ and ‘forum isolation’ rely on the actors in the room being members of the same ‘club’? What happens when actors outside the club enter such a process? Are outsiders also affected by social pressure and able to apply social pressure that is meaningful to States? These are intriguing questions that are presumably relevant not  only to the participation of armed non State actors in drafting processes but also any other non State actor, such as civil society organisations.

Lawmaking Under Pressure Symposium: International Humanitarian Law Governing Non-International Armed Conflicts–Treaty Law and Customary International Law

May 27, 2021

Up on Opinio Juris, you can find latest post by Iris Mueller, ‘Lawmaking Under Pressure Symposium: International Humanitarian Law Governing Non-International Armed Conflicts–Treaty Law and Customary International Law‘ in our co-hosted book symposium on Dr Giovanni Mantilla’s book ‘Lawmaking under Pressure’. Check it out here.