Opinio Juris

A weblog dedicated to reports, commentary, and debate on current developments and scholarship
in the fields of international law and politics

Friday, June 13, 2008

Does Ignoring Precedent Matter?
Perhaps the least persuasive part of the largely unpersuasive Boumediene opinion is its attempt to distinguish the most relevant and binding precedent on the subject: the Supreme Court's 1950 decision in Johnson v. Eisentrager.

In Boumediene, the Court effectively overruled Eisentrager's holding that enemy aliens cannot have the benefit of habeas corpus when held outside the territory of the United States. (This is not surprising, I suppose. In Hamdan, the Court essentially overruled Eisentrager's holding that the Geneva Conventions cannot serve as a basis for a remedy in a civilian proceeding.)

Justice Scalia's dissent, which probably went overboard in some parts, was absolutely right in its evisceration of the Court's analysis of Eisentrager (see pp. 10-13 of Scalia's dissent). The Court did not say it was overruling Eisentrager, but it is hard to see how it could have reached its decision today without doing so. Go ahead. Read Johnson v. Eisentrager and try to convince yourself that the denial of the writ to enemy aliens captured and held overseas during wartime was simply based on practical and functional considerations rather than on territoriality and citizenship.

Does it matter if the Court departs substantially from past precedent? Not to the many commentators (on this blog and elsewhere) who have hailed the decision. But even if one is happy with the result, one has to be worried about a judicial methodology that veers rather dramatically from precedent without admitting that it is doing so. Not only does this further undermine the legitimacy of the Court, but it makes it hard for future decisionmakers to know what is or is not legal? The Bush Administration and Congress can rightly complain that the Court has moved, and continues to move, the goalposts here.

It was totally reasonable for lawyers prior to Hamdan to believe that military commissions were statutorily authorized, the Geneva Conventions were not self-executing, and prior to Boumediene that the writ of habeas corpus and U.S. constitutional rights do not extend outside the territory of the United States to enemy aliens. Indeed, it would have been irresponsible for an attorney advising the President NOT to point out that the legal authority existed.

What now? The unacknowledged departure from precedent represented by Hamdan and Boumediene leave us in uncharted territory. A future decisionmaker has got to assume, and attorneys will have to advise him or her, that the writ of habeas corpus almost certainly extends to wherever the U.S. holds de facto control and where practical considerations do not forego extending the writ (the Green Zone in Iraq and Bagram, Afghanistan come to mind). Further, such attorneys should also advise that enemy combatants there enjoy the protection of at least the Fifth Amendment Due Process rights identified in Hamdi and probably others as well. Nor can congressional action limit or constrain the exercise of these rights in any meaningful way. The entire process of detaining enemy combatants is going to be crafted via a series of federal district court and appellate court decisions attempting to apply the murky judicial methodology the Court provided today (and which is probably going to change tomorrow). If I were in OLC, I would certainly recommend that the President and Congress assume they are totally bound by the Constitution overseas, unless or until the Court tells me otherwise.

Maybe this is all for the good, if all that matters is the result. But how we get to a result is a big part of the Court's legitimacy as a judicial (rather than a policy) decisionmaker. And the Court did itself no favors today on that front.

What Comes Next?
Thanks very much to Opinio Juris for including me in this conversation. I look forward to trading ideas with the terrific group of commentators that Roger and his colleagues have lined up. I should admit from the outset that my instincts here are not exactly neutral: while I now teach national security and international law at Fordham, I was a member of WilmerHale's Boumediene team and one of the principal drafters of our briefs in the case. I hope the result of that background here will be a deep grounding in specifics rather than any unfair bias.

I want to start off with two points, one related to the majority’s peculiar choices about narrative structure and one directed at the bottom-line question we are all struggling to understand: what comes next?

(1) The CSRT Process: It is remarkable that such a favorable majority decision relies on such a colorless description of the CSRT process. This was an absolutely central focus of the litigation, but the majority operates at so high a level of abstraction that some of Roberts’ criticisms take on a rhetorical force that is quite undeserved. The majority notes that detainees could submit “reasonably available” evidence, but doesn’t touch on extensive evidence that this standard appears rarely (if ever) to have extended to anything or anyone besides other detainees at Guantanamo Bay. It spends no time describing the remorseless vise that pinned detainees between a one-sided body of unconfrontable secret evidence on one hand and a legal presumption that all this evidence is accurate on the other. Unless I missed it, the opinion doesn’t even mention the do-overs that were ordered in cases where a detainee was exonerated by his first CSRT proceeding.

Perhaps most conspicuous is the absence of any discussion about the whistleblower revelations from CSRT insiders—people hand-picked by the government, in other words, to participate in this process. One former CSRT administrator described a system in which “no exculpatory information” was ever presented (except accidentally when the government’s allegations were internally contradictory), where forceful pressure from senior command was brought to bear on CSRT panelists, and where overwhelmed legal officers raced through dozens of hearings in a tightly compressed time period. Another described the information gathered from recalcitrant (and sometimes nonresponsive) intelligence agencies as “lack[ing] even the most fundamental earmarks of objectively credible evidence.” And, while this occurred in reaction to a separate legal process, it can’t have escaped the Court’s attention that the former head prosecutor of the Military Commissions resigned his post in public protest against corrupting political influence on that process.

What is particularly surprising about the majority’s colorless approach is that many observers think it was precisely these revelations which led the Court to reverse its initial denial of certiorari in such stunning fashion. Yet they don’t appear even as a defensive riposte by the majority (the Court could have easily achieved much this purpose by acknowledging—without necessarily adopting—these criticisms of how the formal CSRT procedures were actually applied).

So what happened? I suspect three things may be going on. First, the Court is appropriately uneasy about undertaking what would amount to fact-finding on certiorari review. Resting its decision on anything other than the bare text of the CSRT procedures would have provoked a firestorm from the dissents. Second, the Court may have wanted to avoid miring future challenges in factual disputes about how a set of procedures are actually applied—even though such assessments are invited by the Court’s earlier Suspension Clause decisions in Hayman and Swain. Third, the majority may have worried that any extended riff on the full factual context might let opponents of Boumediene cabin the case as primarily focused on faithless application of a potentially valid set of rules.

It’s certainly frustrating from an advocate’s perspective to see Roberts’ credulous praise of the CSRTs go unchallenged in this way. But does all this render irrelevant the practical facts about how CSRT review actually operated? Well, it doesn’t take much of a legal realist to realize that this can’t be true. Kennedy may not have flagged any of these issues in his decision, but they had to have loomed large in driving the results of his flexible analytical structure. It’s the classic problem of conveying the rich fullness of your client’s situation, knowing that “atmospherics” and “optics” can often be outcome determinative. A former colleague liked to remind me that “we’re in the presentation business!” And that’s no less true when key pieces of the presentation don’t make it into the formal judicial outcome.

(2) Preventive Detention: Some commentators have been much too pessimistic about the prospects for statutory preventive detention in the wake of this decision. While there may well be other constitutional problems with such a regime, nothing in Boumediene prevents Congress from devising a comprehensive system of preventive detention—much as Congress devised a comprehensive system of criminal justice in the Military Commissions Act. Under the majority’s opinion, Congress can create procedures governing review; Congress can funnel the cases to a new court to conduct that review; Congress can define burdens of proof; and Congress can define the categories of people who are detainable. Indeed, I’ll argue in a later post that the majority essentially invites Congress to do so—albeit in a more thoughtful way than the 15 lines of statutory text which constitute the sum total of congressional participation on this question to date.

Will habeas corpus still be available for suspected terrorists to challenge the results of those preventive detention determinations? After Boumediene, the answer to that question is almost certainly “yes,” at least in areas where the writ runs. But—and here’s the key point—the question isn’t whether habeas is available at all, it’s what kind of review a habeas court will employ. The majority makes it clear that the scope of habeas review depends both on the detainee’s status and on the procedures that detainee has already received (or can expect to receive in relatively short order). See, e.g., Slip. Op. at 51, 52-53. This is at the heart of the mess that Roberts and Kennedy stumble into as they talk past one another in their discussion of direct vs. collateral review. Where the pre-habeas process is battlefield interrogation by U.S. soldiers, as the Solicitor General came close to suggesting in Hamdi, habeas courts will be searching and skeptical. Where the pre-habeas process offers a legitimate chance for innocent detainees to prove that innocence to an independent decisionmaker, the procedures and standards applied in habeas are likely to be far more deferential

Think of criminal habeas. The post-AEDPA habeas regime mandates heavy deference to state courts, not just on factual questions, but even on questions of pure law. It’s hard to imagine, simply as a predictive matter, that the Court wouldn’t extend even greater deference to a preventive detention regime in the national security context, so long as the basic pre-habeas process offers detainees a meaningful chance to contest their detention. (All of this, I should be clear, brackets the underlying substantive question of whether the Constitution would permit preventive detention as such.)

Is this small consolation for advocates of preventive detention? Well, that depends on your views of the constitutional baseline, because Boumediene certainly leaves no doubt that the grossly inadequate process of CSRT-DTA review can’t suffice to justify the continued detention of people who have been ghosted from the peaceful streets of Sarajevo into indefinite supermax detention in the Caribbean. But so many of the questions about how preventive detention would work involve balancing and calibration that the Court is likely to respect serious congressional engagement with these hard issues—so long as the final product incorporates genuine respect for the broad procedural requirements described by yesterday’s opinion. This all connects to another crucial aspect of Boumediene: its implicit position on how deference to the political branches should operate. I’ll come back to that in a later post.

Boumediene: History vs. Analogy
Chief Justice Roberts is right: Guantanamo is “unique.” [p2] But can that which is unique be analogized? If not, why work by analogy? Yet this is what the justices have generally sought in the past. They ask, what case can I find that looks like today’s? Simple answer? None. To ask this question of the past is to seek what is not there: the present. Approaching the past this way means missing the chance to develop the kind of historical analysis that might help us think our way into the problems we confront today.

Even with over 11,000 people using habeas corpus in the 300 years before 1789, no case can provide the strict analogy the justices seek. That said, many come close: “prisoners at war” in the 1690s; Frenchmen and Indians in Bengal; writs used across centuries in a host of “jurisdictionally quirky” [Roberts, p28] settings from Berwick to both Bostons, and in Barbados and beyond. So what? Looking for a case is to overlook how serious historical explanation might better inform contemporary legal thinking.

What we find in thousands of cases across thousands of miles are patterns revealing principles about habeas corpus. Recovering such principles through historical analysis provides us with ways of thinking not only about the past, but about our present, ways that may surprise and help us—regardless of our partisan or jurisprudential commitments—because they bring us into our questions from unanticipated points of entry.

Consider three principles Justice Kennedy identifies out of the past:
1) habeas corpus rests on a theory of power, not a theory of liberty [p10],
2) it was “an adaptable remedy” [p50],
3) by which “liberty and security can be reconciled.” [p70]

That habeas rests on monarchical power, not proto-liberal ideas, may sound disturbing. But ideas about the prerogative, taken up by royal justices around 1600, built the legal refuge to which later ideas about liberty could resort for safety. A prerogative writ made a legal unity of otherwise quirky places. Place was not the point in habeas litigation. People were: the king, his officers, and their accountability to the king, through his justices, for their detention of his subjects, both “natural” and “local.”

Given early modern jurisdiction’s impressive quirkiness, adaptability was the writ’s essence. Church courts, justices of the peace, conciliar courts, and more: all answered the writ, because the justices accepted no impediment to their adaptation of the writ to new circumstances. Across the 17th century, the judges humbled one quirky place after another: Berwick, the Marches of Wales, Durham, the Channel Isles. Judges in new courts joined those in King’s Bench, issuing the writ in the Caribbean (to which King’s Bench also sent writs in the 1670s), in India, Quebec, and beyond. Adaptability explains the astonishing independence of the court in the 1640s, when the justices used habeas corpus to release those imprisoned by military officers and jurisdictional novelties thrown forth in the maelstrom of civil war.

Because no jurisdictional quirkiness imparted immunity from judicial supervision (see below, for the exception), the writ became the means by which liberty and security might be reconciled. Chief Justice Holt showed powerfully this capacity to reconcile liberty and security between 1689 and 1710. He and his court released hundreds of accused traitors and spies—French, Irish, Scots, and English—during a period of war and threatened rebellion, while always taking care to identify those who might, by law, properly endure all the horrors trial and conviction for treason might bring. Justice Scalia may be right to decry the “judicial supremacy” [p17] judges like Holt seem to threaten. Whether that is a danger, and how it might be addressed, are not questions for historians. But the history suggests nothing if not the capacity of judges, like Holt, to consider the legality of any detention, of any subject, “local” as well as “natural.”

The one exception? Parliament, its imprisonment orders, and the imprisonments made possible by its statutes. This morning’s papers all remark on the “rebuke” the president has received. Perhaps. More notable, viewed from England’s history, is the rebuke given to statutes and to the Congress that makes them. No force has imposed more limits on the ambit of habeas corpus from 1679 forward than statute. The Habeas Corpus Act of that year—always lauded—imposed unanticipated limitations on the writ in later years. Successive statutes suspended bail (though never habeas corpus) in times of national crisis, even when the claim of crisis seemed dubious at best. Statutes made by colonial assemblies made possible slave regimes on the western side of the Atlantic that no triumphant proposition from Somerset’s case could void. Statute impressed thousands of seamen into the stinking bowels of His Majesty’s Ships against their will. If, as Justice Scalia suggests, “history teaches” [p23], what it teaches is that perhaps we must look our elected representatives—and thus ourselves—in the face and ask how we came to this pass.

What's Left of Judicial Deference?
Though the opinion in Munaf and Omar should give us all some pause, I'm still thinking that yesterday's Boumediene opinion comes as close as I've seen the court come to sounding the death knell for broad judicial deference to the executive on matters of national security.

The majority opinion doesn't just embrace a functional approach to resolving questions of the scope of the Constitution's applicability abroad. (When constitutional lawyers talk about functional approaches, they generally mean something that takes into account the practical effects of a particular outcome in resolving questions of constitutional power). In announcing the practical considerations that matter, Justice Kennedy's opinion gives executive claims of security necessity (that is, the executive's view of what's practical) at Guantanamo the back of his judicial hand.

What does matter in determining whether the Constitution (here, the Suspension Clause) constrains U.S. actions outside the territorial United States? Kennedy says three things: 1) citizenship and status of detainee; 2) the nature of the site of the detainee's apprehension and detention; and (3) practical obstacles inherent in resolving entitlement to writ. What about the practical obstacle the administration's been touting all along—that full habeas hearings with consideration of all evidence and so forth would compromise U.S. national security? According to Kennedy: "The Government presents no credible arguments that the military mission at Guantanamo would be compromised if habeas corpus courts had jurisdiction to hear the detainees' claims." Ouch.

Marty's right that the decision leaves open the critical next question of what about the habeas petitioners today held at the United States base in Bagram, Afghanistan. But that's a pretty strong shot across the bow of the executive branch all the same.

[Cross-posted at Convictions]

The Importance of Boumediene
Having consistently benefitted from the high level of dialogue on this site, and conscious that it inhabits a scholarly field in which I do not specialize, I particularly appreciate the invitation to post a response to the Boumediene decision here.

Of course, the ruling raises numerous legal, historical, and practical points that will be the subject of hundreds of thousands of words of commentary in the days and years to come, but I hope that those do not have the effect of obscuring in a welter of detail the truly profound importance of what happened in Washington yesterday morning.

Let me start by pasting in, unedited, a comment posted about the case to the website of the Times of London:

USA has always been a great country, if not the best, this desicion prove it, once again the American democracy, constitution and division of power prove to be the most eficient way of soceity in the world. this is a grreat day for America, and the begining of the healing of this country.

Ernesto, Caracas, Venezuela

Ernesto here makes tersely the two points that I will make only a bit less tersely.

1.

A. In terms of American constitutional law, this decision ranks in the top five of all time. It will in the future appear in constitutional law casebooks right after Marbury v. Madison and right before the Steel Seizure case. Why? Because it implements the structural thinking that permeates the Federalist.

What the Convention's Rube Goldberg creation was supposed to achieve, somehow, was to constrain government power whether in the hands of an aroused public (forestalling the excesses of democracy) or of a single individual (whether King or President because, whether that person's motivations were good or ill or views wise or foolish, the public had the right to set policy) while at the same time getting the needed work of government done.

So we got both:
- checks and balances, dividing power between the branches and then setting them against each other so as to prevent potentially tyrannical concentrations of power, and
- separation of powers, attempting to see to it that governmental tasks (e.g. raising taxes, impeaching the President) would be carried out by the organ(s) of government that could perform them best in light of what we were trying to achieve in the first place: representative non-tyrannical government.

B. In that context, whether an individual should or should not be imprisoned is not in any sense a political question. It is a judicial question. If the executive branch believes that an individual should be incarcerated, it has the burden of persuading neutral adjudicator (a judge, chosen jointly by the an executive-legislative process) of the legal and factual correctness of its view.

Leaving habeas corpus entirely aside, this thinking explains why repudiating the English model impeachment of public officials by the legislature extends no farther than removal from office and is not a criminal conviction, and why private citizens may not be subject to bills of attainders (legislative acts, signed by the executive, convicting individuals of crimes).

C. These are the basic structural premises of the ruling yesterday, and why my paragraph 1(A) above reads as it does.

2.

The ruling yesterday is the best possible thing that could have happened for the position of the United States in the world, and specifically for its efforts to defeat terrorism.

That is a struggle that simply will not be won exclusively, or even primarily, by military means nor yet by economic ones. Leaving idealistic concerns entirely aside, this country simply lacks sufficient resources in either area.

To defeat ideologies opposed to ours we will have to win the hearts and minds of people around the world. That requires demonstrating in deed adherence to our professed ideals, sometimes paying a short-term practical price (just as we do when a guilty person is acquitted in the criminal justice system) in order to preserve what is in fact America's greatest strength: the moral force that comes from being an example to the world, a country that others justifiably want to emulate, one confident enough in its own values that its President wears his amenability to the rule of law as what I have called "a republican crown" rather than casting it aside in times of stress.

If a young person living in an authoritarian nation who is asked to compare the behavior of her government in addressing perceived security threats with that of ours answers*accurately and tragically*that there is not much difference, the future of the American empire is dim at best.

Ernesto's comment on Boumediene with which I began this post encapsulates, I hope, its significance as a burst of sunshine onto this landscape.

The United States and the world have had a very good day.



Boumediene and Choice of Law
As others have noted, the Supreme Court left open a number of pressing questions in its Boumediene opinion. Most intriguing from my perspective is the choice of law issue addressed to the question of which body (or bodies) of law will apply to determine the lawfulness of the detainees’ detentions in the forthcoming habeas proceedings. To this issue, the Court merely noted that: “It bears repeating that our opinion does not address the content of the law that governs petitioners’ detention. That is a matter yet to be determined” (p. 69).

The question of which law governs is not an obvious one. In all cases, of course, U.S. law will govern the question of when and how an individual may be detained by U.S. government agents. In certain cases, however, international law speaks to the same question.

International humanitarian law (IHL) in particular is relevant to those individuals detained while participating in hostilities in Afghanistan prior to the establishment of a new government there (i.e., between October 7, 2001, and June 19, 2002). During this time, the conflict in Afghanistan was an “international armed conflict” within the meaning of Article 2 of the 1940 Geneva Conventions. (According to that provision, the Conventions “apply to all cases of declared war or of any other armed conflict which may arise between two or more of the High Contracting Parties, even if the state of war is not recognized by one of them”). By contrast, individuals detained after June 19, 2002—when the conflict in Afghanistan was no longer an “international armed conflict” as defined by IHL—are only subject to the IHL governing non-international armed conflicts. (From that date onward, the conflict was no longer between High Contracting Parties; although multiple High Contracting Parties remain involved in the conflict, they are aligned on the same side). Individuals detained outside of the theater of war, like the Boumediene petitioners who were detained in Bosnia-Herzegovina, likely fall outside of IHL altogether.

All of these individuals are presumptively protected by human rights law, which applies in times of peace and war. Article 9(1) of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights states: “No one shall be subjected to arbitrary arrest or detention.” The precise relationship between IHL and human rights law remains inchoate, although it is clear that in situations of armed conflict, both bodies of law will apply in a complementary fashion. For example, IHL as the lex specialis can add content to the determination when a detention is “arbitrary” within the meaning of human rights law.

This leads to the question of what substantive standards govern the legality of the detention of individuals under these various bodies of international law, assuming they apply. Under IHL, the specific rules applying to individual detainees depend upon conflict classification, the relationship of such individuals to the conflict, and the circumstances of their capture. In particular, in international armed conflicts, there are regimes for interning prisoners of war as a matter of course and for interning aliens in the territory of the Detaining Power or in occupied territory who present security risks.

By contrast, the rules governing non-international armed conflicts do not create a specific regime for the detention of individuals. Thus, the procedures applicable to their detention are governed by domestic criminal law as tempered by relevant provisions of international human rights law. The International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, while setting forth a general prohibition against arbitrary detention and a right to habeas corpus, does not provide much in the way of substantive standards to determine when a detention is arbitrary. Clearly detentions not in accordance with procedures established by law would qualify (Art. 9(1)).

This choice of law question will also force the lower courts to confront §5 of the Military Commission Act, assuming it applies to pending cases. This provision states:

No person may invoke the Geneva Conventions or any protocols thereto in any habeas corpus or other civil action or proceeding to which the United States, or a current or former officer, employee, member of the Armed Forces, or other agent of the United States is a party as a source of rights in any court of the United States or its States or territories.

Strong arguments exist that this clause—if it indeed applies to situations in which detainees are contesting the validity of their detentions—violates fundamental separation of powers principles by constraining the sources of law and rules of decision courts can invoke in deciding matters before them, as convincingly advanced by our colleague Steve Vladeck in his amicus brief in the cases.

Three Reflections on Boumediene
I have three levels of comments:

1. History. Although Kennedy's opinion spent a lot of time with the history of habeas, it drew only two conclusions with much bite.The first is that the Suspension Clause was passed before the Bill of Rights, so one could argue that the right to challenge one's detention before a court or a judge was treated as the only right sufficiently important to put in the original Constitution. That view makes protection for the "great writ" more important, in the view of the framers, than "due process of law" or protection for "speech," or self-incrimination, or trial by jury. Of course one could also argue that the decision not to include a Bill of Rights was not a judgment about the importance of the rights, and if so, the content of the rights subsequently enumerated gives testimony to their importance. Still, it gives one pause to recall that the only procedural "right" detailed in the original document is the "privilege of the writ of habeas corpus." The second historical conclusion is that the writ ran with the king's dominions. The fact that habeas was available to the "king's subjects" in India and America, which included members of non-English populations and resident aliens, makes it easier to suggest that extending habeas protection to aliens in Guantanamo isn't completely at odds with the "original meaning" of the Suspension Clause. At some point there seems to be something of a historical dispute between Kennedy and Scalia on the scope of habeas jurisdiction, but I read Scalia only to be saying that no historical authority has suggested that if an alien is arrested and detained by a "King's officer" (say, a person in the service of the US armed forces) in a foreign theater of operations, habeas jurisdiction would be concurred. Scalia doesn't agree that Guantanamo is US territory for the purpose of habeas jurisdiction, but he lost on that issue. So being detained in Guantanamo is different, after Boumediene, from being detained in an Iraqi jail, by Iraqi authorities, at the request of the US.

2. Separation of Powers. I find myself unsympathetic to Roberts's arguments about judicial triumphalism and the exhaustion of other remedies. The original purpose of the habeas writ was to test the legality of executive detentions. The concern, at a time when religious and political conflict were closely associated, was with executive officials, ostensibly acting under the name of the king, holding people in custody because of the unpopularity of their religious views. The theory of the habeas writ was that the king would be embarrassed by that conduct, and would thus exert his grace and mercy (the writ is a royal prerogative writ) on behalf of his subjects to ensure that his courts (the original judges hearing habeas cases were King's Bench judges) tested the actions of his officials. So if the point of habeas to ensure the sufficiency of evidence on which a person is incarcerated, the idea that Congress and the Executive should presumptively be deferred to when they seek to limit the access of incarcerated persons to the courts seems quite out of place. Judges are the enforcers of habeas, and they, not the other branches, should determine its scope. As for exhaustion, if it were the case that the Combatant Status Review Tribunals were just being formed, and at least in theory detainees, represented by military counsel, would have opportunity to challenge the evidence against them and otherwise test the sufficiency of their detentions, one might be inclined to encourage their use. But that is not how the CSRTs work, at least for prospective 'enemy combatants' since 9/11. Someone is arrested in Afghanistan or elsewhere, either in actual military operations or in some counter-terrorist context; the person is brought up before a CSRT and characterized as an 'enemy combatant' by a member of the military; some evidence is produced; the tribunal designates the person an 'enemy combatant'; the person is detained, and, before Boumediene, at the pleasure of the military. In that context I am not sure what "adminstrative remedies" there are to exhaust. The very fact that both the Congressional statutes withdrawing jurisdiction from the federal courts were comparatively uncontroversial when they were passed, and the executive was given a great deal of deference on "war on terror" issues for at least five years after 9/11, suggests that Congress and the executive are not inclined to be overly scrupulous about the rights of persons they think are threatening national security in a direct way. One wonders whether Roberts would be equally inclined to be deferential to the executive and Congress if, as was the case in the early 1950s, both were inclined to support the forcible segregation of African-Americans and whites.

3. Practical Application. I suspect that Boumediene may be one of those cases whose aspirational reach and impact turns out to be far greater than its practical effects. It is possible, as some commentators have suggested, that the logic of Boumediene is that anywhere in the world where the United States has de facto sovereignty, a detainee--citizen or alien--may have habeas access to a civil court to challenge the sufficiency of the detention. Under this reading Guantanamo would not be a "quirky" jurisdiction, as Roberts suggests, but a precedent for the proposition that when officials of the United States government exercise custody over a person in a place where the United States government has the equivalent of sovereign authority (a military base, a military prison in an "occupied" territory), that person should be able to challenge custody through a habeas petition. Put that way, Boumediene embodies the principle that when officials of the United States are incarcerating someone in territory controlled by the United States, civil courts of the United States are available for habeas relief. That would be consistent with our aspirations for the "rule of law." But none of this is to say that many detainees would be advantaged by the ability to swear out habeas writs. At least not many detainees of the sort that have ended up in Guantanamo or the CIA's facilities. Recall that the standard of review, on a habeas petition, is whether the evidence suggests that the prisoner was appropriately detained as falling into one or another category of persons eligible for detention. When a person is arrested in a military theater of operations, or in some sort of counter-terrorist operation, that evidence is difficult to counter. Virtually every prisoner in the American penal system is eligible of habeas relief. One doesn't seem a constant stream of such persons being released because they successfully challenged the basis of their detention. The very fact that after Boumediene there is some risk that the federal courts might be clogged with habeas petitions by 'enemy combatant' detainees suggests that a comparatively swift way of disposing of most of the challenges will be developed. Indeed, one might be inclined to think that the only beneficiaries of Boumediene are likely to be persons who can show, with some clarity, that their detentions were dubious in the first place.


Boumediene and the Use of History; Boumediene & Munaf
Thanks to Opinio Juris for inviting me back. These things are always fun. I’m not going to try to systematically address Boumediene, but will instead offer a few thoughts about Boumediene's use of history and the relationship between Boumediene and Munaf.

1. I agree with much of the Chief’s and Scalia’s criticisms of the Boumediene majority opinion’s aggressive assertions of judicial supremacy over detention decisions in the war on terror. But it cannot be accidental that the Court chose to release Munaf v. Geren on the same day. And if Boumediene is a green light for lower federal courts to exercise substantial control over the military’s legal proceedings regarding captured enemies, Munaf is a red—or at least yellow—light. There the Court goes out of its way to emphasize that the relief ordered by the lower court against the U.S. military was wholly inappropriate and that courts should careful to avoid “unwarranted judicial intrusion into the Executive’s ability to conduct military operations abroad” (slip op. 22). I hope Munaf’s cautions will be noted by lower court judges.

2. Although not implicated directly in either case, I bet the Geneva Conventions played an important behind-the-scenes role in today’s decisions. The Executive has of course long taken the position that alleged members or associates of al Qaeda or the Taliban captured in Afghanistan or elsewhere are not covered by the Geneva Conventions, but that all persons detained in Iraq are. Though in 2004 Hamdan held that Common Article 3 protects al Qaeda etc. personnel, that provision is merely a floor to outlaw the worst kind of misconduct by U.S. personnel. So generally speaking, Iraq conflict detainees have pretty comprehensive legal protections under Geneva (and Iraqi law, where applicable), whereas Guantanamo detainees have been perceived to be in a “legal black hole,” to use the popular metaphor.

My sense is that at least three justices (Kennedy, Souter and Ginsburg) simply think it is unacceptable for persons in U.S. detention to be held outside the protections of either the Constitution or a robust international legal regime like Geneva. Recall that Hamdi’s plurality pointed to Army regs implementing Geneva procedures as an example of acceptable due process. And Boumediene suggests that constitutional habeas may be unavailable for some foreigners held abroad if “there are suitable alternative processes in place to protect against the arbitrary exercise of governmental power” (slip op. 65). This seems likely to be a reference to Geneva. Munaf’s unanimous deference to the Executive could well be motivated in part by the comfort the Court draws from the presence of Geneva in Iraq.

Back in the black hole, the government was essentially informed today that procedures and standards devised by the Executive or Congress for Guantanamo will never pass muster with this Court unless Article III courts are involved and able to enforce the Constitution. Rasul, Hamdi and Hamdan invited the President and Congress to create the kind of “non-constitutional” and "non-habeas" framework that Boumediene finds clearly unconstitutional. This is bad news for the advocates (e.g., Jack Goldsmith, Ben Wittes, Neal Katyal) of creative statutory detention and review procedures more appropriate for the novel circumstances of the war on terror.

In light of the significant losses the Executive has suffered in the Court in Guantanamo cases (Hamdi, Hamdan and now Boumediene), as well as the awful prisoner abuse and the diplomatic and public relations disasters, and one wonders whether even the Executive might now think we would have been better off maintaining from the outset that Geneva did not apply to al Qaeda etc. personnel, but that it would be applied anyway as a matter of humanity and good policy.

3. Judges and lawyers are often cautioned that they misunderstand and misuse history when they try to force it to decisively answer current legal problems. According to historian Jack Rakove: “Professional historians should have no problem in admitting ambiguity or uncertainty in our findings, but political and legal disputes leave little room for scholarly hemming and hawing.” Here’s historian Michael Bellesiles: Unlike advocates arguing for a client or judges justifying a decision, “[h]istorians doubt any case for which all the evidence falls consistently on one side and work on the assumption that the past is pitted with ambiguities and paradoxes.” The criticisms of lawyers and judges often seem apt. (I know that I—lacking a graduate degree in history—live in fear that I am getting my history wrong in some way. And I probably am.)

The Boumediene majority opinion appears to handle the complexities of constitutional history and its application to current disputes in a way that should please most historians. The historical question is whether, as of 1789 when the U.S. Constitution went into effect, aliens could have used the common law writ of habeas corpus to challenge in civilian courts on the mainland their detention as combatants by the military in a location under the de facto control but not de jure sovereignty of our country. The Boumediene majority considers the historical evidence but carefully and modestly declines to draw any firm conclusions because the evidence is ambiguous and incomplete and our eighteenth century predecessors did not leave record of having confronted and resolved the precise issues we face today. I have previously concluded much the same thing about the historical evidence, in a 2007 law review article and post for the Opinio Juris symposium about the D.C. Circuit decision in Boumediene.

Before today, the Court had a very different view. The five justice majority in Rasul v. Bush (2004) reviewed English habeas history and concluded that: “Application of the habeas statute to persons detained at the [Guantanamo Bay military] base is consistent with the historical reach of the writ of habeas corpus. . . . In the end, the answer to the question presented is clear.”

But as a detailed and erudite recent article on this topic by Professors Paul Halliday and G. Edward White (cited by the Boumediene majority) notes, “[t]he historical underpinnings of Stevens’ analysis [in Rasul] were slight” (p. 116 of the SSRN version). And lo and behold, the Court has recognized and corrected its error. In Boumediene, all nine justices reject the faulty historical analysis in Rasul. The Boumediene majority opinion correctly notes that the history of the writ provides “no certain conclusions” (slip op. 16). The Court finds “little” historical “support” for the claim that common law courts sitting in England prior to 1789 entertained “petitions brought by alien prisoners detained abroad” (slip op. 18-19). In fact, the Court notes, there is a “lack of historical evidence on point” (slip op. 22). All five justices in the majority signed on the opinion—and these statements—in full. Souter notes in his somewhat odd concurrence that he “join[s] the Court’s opinion in its entirety.” The four justices in dissent reject Rasul’s analysis and conclusions and instead find that the available evidence points the other way. I think they go too far by finding a clear answer, but their historical argument is, in my view, stronger than the Rasul majority's.

By contrast with the Court’s approach today, the Brief of Legal Historians as Amici Curiae submitted in Boumediene argued that the “Court’s conclusion in Rasul is fully supported by the historical record.” Given his vote in Boumediene, not even Justice Stevens, the author of the Rasul majority opinion, appears to believe that anymore. The amici legal historians also wrote that “prisoners of war and alleged enemy aliens could challenge the legality of their detention by way of habeas corpus. Even where in these cases courts ultimately declined to discharge the petitioner, they reviewed the basis of the prisoners’ detention on the merits.” The Boumediene majority correctly notes that whether the key cases’ holdings “were jurisdictional or based upon the courts’ ruling that the petitioners were detained unlawfully as prisoners of war is unclear” (slip op. 17).

Rather than attempt to answer a momentous question of U.S. constitutional law based on an ambiguous and incomplete historical record, the Court today quite properly turns to other sources of constitutional meaning, namely text, structure, the Court’s precedent and functional, consequential and prudential considerations. Well done.

Methodologically, that is. On the substance of many issues, the Court is shaky. It badly misreads key precedents (Johnson v. Eisentrager, Balzac v. Porto Rico). It somehow convinces itself that “separation of powers” principles written by the Founders into the Constitution positively require that the federal judiciary have the final say about the legality of all executive detentions, even those occurring during wartime outside of the United States and involving noncitizens. It utterly fails to answer the Chief's fairly devastating dissent. I am still fond of my textual-structural approach to the territorial scope of the Suspension Clause (in the article and post linked to above), but will not reprise it a third time here.

Notwithstanding these and other disagreements, I applaud the Court’s new-found methodological caution regarding the use of history.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

A Second Take on Boumediene: Habeas Corpus and Military Commissions
It didn’t take long for the media and the commentators to quickly seize on the real question after Boumediene: now what? Let me begin by suggesting there are at least four categories (and probably more) of cases in which we must separately assess Boumediene’s implications:
  1. Non-citizens detained at Guantánamo challenging their detention.

  2. Non-citizens detained at Guantánamo challenging their pending trial by military commission.

  3. Non-citizens detained elsewhere outside the United States.

  4. Non-citizens detained in the United States (i.e., al Marri)
Although there is a whole lot to be said about each of these categories, I want to begin with (2), because in a way, that's the simplest.

Before September 11, it was well established that habeas corpus was an appropriate means through which to mount a collateral attack on the exercise of military jurisdiction. At various points, especially during the 1950s and 1960s, the Supreme Court struggled over whether other challenges to military trials could be litigated via habeas, but jurisdictional challenges were just about always allowed.

Hamdan, of course, reaffirms that idea, especially in one of the more overlooked parts of Justice Stevens's opinion for the Court--Part III, where he rejected the idea that the courts should abstain from deciding Hamdan's habeas petition until the military commission proceedings had been complete. Simple enough to express, the idea is that a jurisdictional defect implicates the defendant's right not to be tried in the first place, and not just the rights that would attach to such a trial. (Double jeopardy case law is somewhat analogous).

Anyway, I suspect the upside of all of this is that habeas petitions mounting collateral attacks on the jurisdiction of the military commissions under the Military Commissions Act of 2006 ("MCA") can now go forward, and Hamdan itself probably will prevent the habeas courts from staying their hand. The question then becomes whether the military commissions will wait for the habeas proceedings to run their course, or whether the habeas courts won't even give them that chance, and will order them to hold off...

But whatever the procedural posture, I wonder if the end result is to actually accelerate the resolution of fundamental questions concerning the constitutionality of the substantive provisions of the MCA? For example, if someone like Omar Khadr challenges his military commission on the ground that, inter alia, he's entitled to combatant immunity, it strikes me that such a claim could get resolved much more quickly now than if he had to raise it as a defense at trial, raise it in a post-conviction appeal to the "Court of Military Commission Review," and then raise it in a subsequent appeal to the D.C. Circuit.

Ultimately, then, I think today's decision ensures that the one set of questions that can now be answered perhaps the most expeditiously are the substantive questions concerning the MCA. And hidden within some of those questions are perhaps the most "meta" questions at stake in these cases -- the substantive detention criteria, the scope of the conflict, and, oh by the way, the applicability and enforceability of international humanitarian and human rights law.... so things may not take quite as long to drag out as we might think, it just might be the military commission cases, and not the challenges to detention without trial, that provide the vehicle.
Primer on Boumediene
Beth Van Schaack has a really nice primer on Boumediene available here. She will join us at Opinio Juris for more detailed discussion and analysis of the opinion shortly.

Good Day in Gitmo, Bad Day in Iraq
While there's much, much more to be said on the Supreme Court's blockbuster decision today in Boumediene, the not-quite-companion case involving U.S. citizens held by the Americans in Iraq also came down today—and the news there is hardly pro-detainee.

In a unanimous decision, the court ruled that while the U.S. federal courts have jurisdiction to hear the habeas petitions of Munaf and Omar (the U.S. citizen detainees), Munaf and Omar would lose on the merits of their habeas claims—and there's therefore no justification for blocking their transfer to the Iraqi authorities for criminal prosecution.

The detainees' key claim was that they were likely to face torture if transferred to the Iraqis for prosecution. The court concludes that this claim is "of concern," but that it is primarily up to Congress and the executive to determine how to handle it. Since the State Department has determined here that the Iraqi detention facilities are good enough, the court decides it is in no position to challenge that determination.

Souter, Ginsburg, and Breyer concur separately in an attempt to limit the scope of the decision—emphasizing that the court is reserving judgment on whether the outcome would be the same in the "extreme case in which the Executive has determined that a detainee [in U.S. custody] is likely to be tortured but decides to transfer him anyway." But given the briefing the court had before it in this case, including this amicus brief detailing all the reasons why torture was likely in this case, it's a little hard to imagine just what kind of exceptional circumstances they have in mind. Among other things, the same State Department had said in its most recent country report that Iraqi jails have "significant human rights problems," including "torture and other cruel, inhuman, or degrading punishment" and "[a]busive interrogation practices" including "rape, torture and abuse, sometimes leading to death."

I'm not sure which is more remarkable about the decision—the fact that it was unanimous or the fact that the court decided to reach the merits of the habeas claims that the men were being held in violation of their rights under U.S. law. I'll say it was the decision to reach out and decide the merits—of a piece, one might note, with Justice Kennedy's paean to the role of the federal courts in such matters in Boumediene itself: "Because our Nation's past military conflicts have been of limited duration, it has been possible to leave the outer boundaries of war powers undefined. If, as some fear, terrorism continues to pose dangerous threats to us for years to come, the Court might not have this luxury." Read: We've been holding back. We're no longer so inclined.

[Cross-posted at Convictions]


What Difference Does Citizenship Make? Even Less, After Boumediene
Roger points to the importance of territory in marking the boundaries of citizenship. The other key element in constitutional cartography has been citizenship status, at least since Reid v. Covert. When it comes to enjoying the protection of the Constitution abroad, as a general matter citizens get it, noncitizens don’t.

Justice Kennedy’s opinion in Boumediene appears to slice at that in both directions. First, he plays up the fact that Black’s absolutist opinion in Reid was a plurality only, and that the case did not overrule In re Ross, in which a citizen’s right to trial by jury was found not to apply in the context of consular court prosecutions outside the territory of the United States. Notwithstanding the lack of five votes, Black’s opinion in Reid is typically treated as representing a pretty absolute rule of constitutional law: for citizens, the constitution is portable. Is Kennedy backtracking from that here? If so, having citizenship now gets you less.

(There is also the decision today in Munaf, in which the Court throws the bone of statutory habeas to citizen petitioners, in part by virtue of their status as such, only to find no relief with a decision playing hard on the retrograde territorialist logic of Schooner Exchange v. McFaddon.)

More obviously, the lack of citizenship may be less of a disability post-Boumediene. It’s still a part of the picture: on page 36 of the slip, where Kennedy lays out the test for determining the reach of the Suspension Clause, citizenship is in effect included as half a factor (and one that’s then completely ignored, for obvious reasons). Citizenship status seems to be one of the elements of formalism that Kennedy has in his cross hairs (the other being sovereignty). This doesn’t mean that noncitizen status is by any means irrelevant — Kennedy concurred in Verdugo-Urquidez, with some language playing up the citizenship factor — but perhaps to the extent “practical obstacles” to the application of constitutional rights don’t inhere, noncitizens now have an opening they didn’t have yesterday.
A First Take On Boumediene: Habeas Corpus and Error Correction
First, my thanks again to Roger, Peggy, and the rest of the OJ crew for the opportunity to share some preliminary thoughts on Boumediene. Obviously, there’s already a lot out there, with much more yet to come. Rather than tackle the big and obvious headline stuff, or try to respond to other points already made, I want to focus on what, for me, was the most fascinating part of Justice Kennedy’s majority opinion—his excursus on the purpose of the writ of habeas corpus.

Consider the following passage, found at pages 55–57 of the slip copy:
Even if we were to assume that the CSRTs satisfy due process standards, it would not end our inquiry. Habeas corpus is a collateral process that exists, in Justice Holmes’ words, to “cu[t] through all forms and g[o] to the very tissue of the structure. It comes in from the outside, not in subordination to the proceedings, and although every form may have been preserved opens the inquiry whether they have been more than an empty shell.” Even when the procedures authorizing detention are structurally sound, the Suspension Clause remains applicable and the writ relevant. . . .

Although we make no judgment as to whether the CSRTs, as currently constituted, satisfy due process standards, we agree with petitioners that, even when all the parties involved in this process act with diligence and in good faith, there is considerable risk of error in the tribunal’s findings of fact. This is a risk inherent in any process that, in the words of the former Chief Judge of the Court of Appeals, is “closed and accusatorial.” And given that the consequence of error may be detention of persons for the duration of hostilities that may last a generation or more, this is a risk too significant to ignore. [alterations in original]
In other words, the constitutional sufficiency of the CSRT procedures is only one small piece of the puzzle. The fact that there is a substantial likelihood of incorrect results, and that such results would cause immeasurable harm, is itself a reason to conclude that the DTA review process is an inadequate substitute for habeas. This may seem like doublespeak, because how can the process be truly constitutionally “adequate” if there is such a high probability of inaccuracy. Chief Justice Roberts certainly seems to think this is nuts in his dissent. But I think Kennedy is saying something else here—that accuracy is the desired end, and procedural sufficiency is but a means thereto.

If so, then such analysis would constitute a potentially sweeping retreat from one of the hallmarks of the Rehnquist Court’s habeas corpus jurisprudence (and the scholarship of the legendary Paul Bator): the idea that habeas corpus is not about error correction; that the “Great Writ” is meant to ensure fair proceedings, but not necessarily accurate proceedings. (For one troubling example of such a case, see Herrera v. Collins).

Kennedy is careful, of course, to note that this discussion is limited to the context of habeas petitions challenging detention by executive order, and not other forms of habeas review where there is less reason for skepticism. As he says on pg. 57, “Consistent with the historic function and province of the writ, habeas corpus review may be more circumscribed if the underlying detention proceedings are more thorough than they were here.” But I wonder if that’s not closing the barn door after the furry little things have already left, for it begs the question whether the “underlying detention proceedings” are “thorough,” and it suggests that habeas review is far broader whenever there are reasons to think that such proceedings are not.

The idea that habeas actually should be about error correction (or, at least, should also be about error correction) when there are reasons not to trust the underlying detention proceeding is reminiscent of the heyday of the Warren Court’s habeas jurisprudence. I’m just surprised to see it re-emerge here, and so prominently, at that...

I hope to have some more later on the relationship between Boumediene and the equally significant decision today in Munaf, but thought I'd pause here, for now.
Israeli Supreme Court Upholds Unlawful Combatants Law
As our Boumediene instant symposium gets underway, I thought it might be interesting to note that the Israeli Supreme Court has just upheld the Incarceration of Unlawful Combatants Law, which permits the indefinite detention of a person who does not qualify for POW status and "who has participated either directly or indirectly in hostile acts against the State of Israel or is a member of a force perpetrating hostile acts against the State of Israel." From Ha'aretz:
The Supreme Court yesterday upheld the constitutionality of the law allowing for the detention of "unlawful combatants," which Israel uses to hold Hezbollah fighters.

Supreme Court President Dorit Beinisch and Justices Edmond Levy and Ayala Procaccia rejected an appeal by two Gazan Palestinians who were detained after their involvement in terror activity on behalf of Hezbollah was proved.

The Unlawful Combatants Law authorizes the state to detain foreign nationals who belong to terror organizations or have participated directly or indirectly in hostile actions against the State of Israel.

Its goal is to prevent their continued activities.

Beinisch wrote in the verdict that although the law involves substantial harm and the suppression of personal freedom through administrative detention, the harm is proportional.

She noted that it was passed in a "harsh security reality" that justifies the violation of to personal freedom.

"The law's harm to the constitutional right to personal freedom, although substantial, is no greater than necessary," Beinisch wrote.

"Therefore, we have concluded that the law meets the criteria of the limitations ruling and there is no constitutional grounds to intervene in it."
The Unlawful Combatants Law requires a District Court to determine every six months whether a prisoner's release "will not harm State security" or whether "there are special grounds justifying his release"; the court's decision can then be appealed to a single judge of the Supreme Court for review. Scholars question, however, whether the Law's review procedures adequately protect prisoners' rights. Here is what Ron Dudai of SOAS had to say two years ago, when the Israeli Supreme Court first upheld the detention of "unlawful combatants":
Yet how powerful can this judicial review be? Not only does the Illegal Combatants law create a new category not recognized in international law, it reverses the burden of proof. Once an order is signed by the Chief of Staff, the burden of proof is on the defendant: he has to prove to the court that he is not an enemy combatant. Moreover, he is expected do this when the charge against him is based solely on classified evidence, which he is barred from examining and is therefore unable to challenge. One of the defendants told the court he was arrested in his house, for no reason, and added that if he were exposed to the evidence against him he would be able to respond. But that, of course, did not happen. After the defense lawyers argued their case, they and their clients had to exit the courtroom, leaving the security services’ representatives to reveal their secret evidence to the judge.
Food for comparative thought.
The Territorial Reach of the Constitution
Just to get the discussion going, I wanted to highlight the Court's analysis in Section IV of the Boumediene decision on the territorial reach of the Constitution. The precise question presented is the geographic question of whether the constitutional guarantee of the writ of habeas applies to detainees at Guantanamo Bay.

Before discussing the case, it is worth highlighting the different models that have been used to address the territorial reach of the Constitution. As Gerald Neuman has noted in his important article "Whose Constitution?" in the 1991 Yale Law Journal, there are four major models: universalism, membership, territorial, and a balancing approach of global due process. Here is how Neuman summarizes the four models:


Universalist approaches require that constitutional provisions that create rights with no express limitations as to the persons or places covered should be interpreted as applicable to every person and at every place. The precise commands of the provisions, especially of those creating rights subject to balancing tests, may vary from place to place, but one can never simply dismiss the provisions as inapplicable....

Social contract rhetoric has played a significant role in American constitutionalism. Social contract theory seeks to legitimate government through the idea of an actual or hypothetical agreement embodying the consent of the governed who have established the state and empowered it to govern. Some accounts of social contract theory identify a limited class of “members” as the proper beneficiaries of the contract. The beneficiaries have rights based in the contract; nonbeneficiaries are relegated to whatever rights they may have independent of the contract....

Under a strictly territorial model, the Constitution constrains the United States government only when it acts within the borders of the United States. Strict territoriality prevailed as dogma for most of American constitutional history, until its overthrow in Reid v. Covert....

This emphasis on the countervailing necessities of overseas action may suggest that all of these models can be collapsed into a brand of harmless universalism: recognize constitutional rights as potentially applicable worldwide, and then balance them away. One might engage in ad hoc balancing in the individual case, or balance more categorically; the balancing process may be intrusive or highly deferential. The concurrences of Justices Frankfurter and Harlan in Reid v. Covert offer an example of this approach as regards citizens' rights abroad, and Justice Kennedy in Verdugo-Urquidez located himself within the tradition of Harlan's concurring opinion. This approach suggests that, ultimately, extraterritorial constitutional rights boil down to a single right: the right to “global due process.”

So where does Boumediene fall among those models? It is difficult to say, because in some respects the question is limited by the Court's determination that Guantanamo Bay effectively is within the territory of the United States. But there definitely is some language in the opinion that seems to suggest a much broader approach than simple territoriality. Here are a few key excerpts:

We therefore do not question the Government’s position that Cuba, not the United States, maintains sovereignty, in the legal and technical sense of the term, over Guantanamo Bay. But this does not end the analysis. Our cases do not hold it is improper for us to inquire into the objective degree of control the Nation asserts over foreign territory.... [F]or purposes of our analysis, we accept the Government’s position that Cuba, and not the United States, retains de jure sovereignty over Guantanamo Bay. As we did in Rasul, however, we take notice of the obvious and uncontested fact that the United States, by virtue of its complete jurisdiction and control over the base, maintains de facto sovereignty over this territory. The Court has discussed the issue of the Constitution’s extraterritorial application on many occasions. These decisions undermine the Government’s argument that, at least as applied to noncitizens, the Constitution necessarily stops where de jure sovereignty ends. (pp. 23-25)....

In its principal brief in Eisentrager, the Government advocated a bright-line test for determining the scope of the writ, similar to the one it advocates in these cases. Yet the Court mentioned the concept of territorial sovereignty only twice in its opinion. That the Court devoted a significant portion of Part II to a discussion of practical barriers to the running of the writ suggests that the Court was not concerned exclusively with the formal legal status of Landsberg Prison but also with the objective degree of control the United States asserted over it. Even if we assume the Eisentrager Court considered the United States’ lack of formal legal sovereignty over Landsberg Prison as the decisive factor in that case, its holding is not inconsistent with a functional approach to questions of extraterritoriality. The formal legal status of a given territory affects, at least to some extent, the political branches’ control over that territory. De jure sovereignty is a factor that bears upon which constitutional guarantees apply there.... The necessary implication of the argument is that by surrendering formal sovereignty over any unincorporated territory to a third party, while at the same time entering into a lease that grants total control over the territory back to the United States, it would be possible for the political branches to govern without legal constraint. Our basic charter cannot be contracted away like this. The Constitution grants Congress and the President the power to acquire, dispose of, and govern territory, not the power to decide when and where its terms apply. Even when the United States acts outside its borders, its powers are not “absolute and unlimited” but are subject “to such restrictions as are expressed in the Constitution.” Abstaining from questions involving formal sovereignty and territorial governance is one thing. To hold the political branches have the power to switch the Constitution on or off at will is quite another. The former position reflects this Court’s recognition that certain matters requiring political judgments are best left to the political branches. The latter would permit a striking anomaly in our tripartite system of government, leading to a regime in which Congress and the President, not this Court, say “what the law is.” (pp. 33-35)....

It is true that before today the Court has never held that noncitizens detained by our Government in territory over which another country maintains de jure sovereignty have any rights under our Constitution. But the cases before us lack any precise historical parallel. They involve individuals detained by executive order for the duration of a conflict that, if measured from September 11, 2001, to the present, is already among the longest wars in American history. The detainees, moreover, are held in a territory that, while technically not part of the United States, is under the complete and total control of our Government. Under these circumstances the lack of a precedent on point is no barrier to our holding. We hold that Art. I, §9, cl. 2, of the Constitution has full effect at Guantanamo Bay. If the privilege of habeas corpus is to be denied to the detainees now before us, Congress must act in accordance with the requirements of the Suspension Clause. (p. 41).

My first blush reading of the case is that the Court is adopting a rule that the Constitution applies abroad provided the United States exercises de facto sovereignty. I'm not sure if that is closer to a territorial model, the balancing global due process model, or something in between. At a minimum it appears that the Court is rejecting the broad universalist and the narrow membership models.


Roberts Summarizes Boumediene: No One Wins
I haven't had time to come up with anything interesting or cogent about the expected but still disturbing result in Boumediene. And we have an all-star cast of guest-bloggers ready to comment, as Roger points out below. But as a place to begin, it is worth checking out Chief Justice Roberts' powerful conclusion to his dissent, which I think accurately characterizes the likely result of this decision: more muddle and more litigation.

So who has won? Not the detainees. The Court’s analysis leaves them with only the prospect of further litigation to determine the content of their new habeas right, followed by further litigation to resolve their particular cases,
followed by further litigation before the D. C. Circuit— where they could have started had they invoked the DTA procedure. Not Congress, whose attempt to “determine— through democratic means—how best” to balance the security of the American people with the detainees’ liberty interests, see Hamdan v. Rumsfeld, 548 U. S. 557, 636 (2006) (BREYER, J., concurring), has been unceremoniously brushed aside. Not the Great Writ, whose majesty is hardly enhanced by its extension to a jurisdictionally quirky outpost, with no tangible benefit to anyone. Not the rule of law, unless by that is meant the rule of lawyers, who will now arguably have a greater role than military and intelligence officials in shaping policy for alien enemy combatants. And certainly not the American people, who today lose a bit more control over the conduct of this Nation’s foreign policy to unelected, politically unaccountable judges.
.
Boumediene "Insta-Symposium"
The Supreme Court has just rendered its decision in Boumediene v. Bush, announcing that the DTA procedures are not an adequate and effective substitute for habeas corpus and that the MCA operates as an unconstitutional suspension of the writ.

Opinio Juris is very pleased to announce an “insta-symposium” to discuss the decision. We have an amazing line-up of guests, including Geoff Corn (South Texas), Eric Freedman (Hofstra), Paul Halliday (Virginia), Chimène Keitner (Hastings), Andrew Kent (Fordham), Jenny Martinez (Stanford), Julian Davis Mortenson (Fordham), Michael Newton (Vanderbilt), Deborah Pearlstein (Princeton), Patrick Philbin (Kirkland & Ellis), David Scheffer (Northwestern), Beth Van Schaack (Santa Clara), Steve Vladeck (American), and G. Edward "Ted" White (Virginia).

We look forward to the discussion over the next few days.


Will the US Come Into Line on Hate Speech?
Adam Liptak has an excellent front-page story in today's NYT situating the US approach to hate speech in the international context (as part of his series “American Exception"). Together with Jeremy Waldron’s recent New York Review of Books piece on the subject, could this be the leading edge of possible constitutional adjustment?

It would have been mostly unthinkable as recently as 15 years ago. When the US ratified the ICCPR in 1992, everyone was on board with the reservation from article 20, including all the big human rights groups. That would probably play out the same way today, under the categoric rule of Reid v. Covert that treaties can’t trump the Bill of Rights.

But of course there’s a back door to the same result, which is through judicial interpretation. There are the obvious recent precedents for using international law sources in constitutional interpretation, although all in the name of expanding rather than restricting rights. But there’s also a line of less obvious cases (think consular courts, extradition, and foreign claims settlement) under which the courts have shifted rights sub rosa to conform with international realities. Especially to the extent the hate speech prohibition hardens at the international level, I wonder how long the US will be able to go it alone on this.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Major War Criminal Arrested in Serbia
Very encouraging news out of Serbia -- Stojan Zupljanin, the commander of the Bosnian police during the war, has been arrested and will be handed over to the ICTY for prosecution:
Bosnian Serb security chief Stojan Zupljanin, 56, was one of four suspects sought by the tribunal for war crimes in the territory of former Yugoslavia in the 1990s.

Their arrest and handover to the tribunal has been a condition of Serbia's progress towards EU membership.

"There was no resistance during his arrest," said Vladimir Vukcevic, Serbia's chief war crimes prosecutor, who coordinated the operation. "This arrest shows clearly that we are seriously cooperating (with the Hague)."

Zupljanin was found at an apartment about 8 km (5 miles) from the centre of Belgrade by police and security agents and will be extradited within in 72 hours, officials said.

The arrest comes as Serbia, deeply split between nationalists and a pro-EU bloc after inconclusive elections last month, is immersed in intense coalition negotiations.

Officials said Zupljanin had foiled a previous attempt to arrest him in the southern Serbian city of Nis two months ago. His family had publicly called on him to surrender, to spare them further notoriety and financial collapse.

[snip]

The EU welcomed the arrest.

"It is an important step towards full cooperation with (the tribunal), which is key to bringing justice and lasting reconciliation in the Western Balkans region," EU Enlargement Commissioner Olli Rehn said in a statement.

In Washington, the State Department also praised Serbia.

"His arrest is another positive step towards insuring those responsible for war crimes committed in the former Yugoslavia are held accountable," said State Department spokesman Gonzalo Gallegos.

The U.S. hoped the arrest of Mladic, Karadzic and Hadzic, would follow, and "we call on authorities in the region to bring them to justice," he said.

Analysts said Wednesday's arrest may indicate that a pro-European coalition was the most likely outcome of Serbia's month-long government negotiations.

"It might also be seen as an announcement that it's more realistic to have a government that will follow a pro-European path," said political analyst Zoran Stojiljkovic.

The Democratic party leading the pro-Western bloc said the arrest signalled Serbia may gain EU candidate status by the end of the year. The Radical party, spearheading the nationalist grouping, slammed it as a black page in Serbia's history.
Hat-Tip: Una Hardester of USCRI.
Liberian Truth and Reconciliation Commission Comes to the United States
For the first time, a truth and reconciliation commission has picked up stakes and moved to a foreign country to take public testimony: The Liberian Truth and Reconciliation Commission began its first extraterritorial session in St. Paul Minnesota this week.

The Star Tribune has the full story here. One remarkable aspect of the story is the size of the Liberian expat community in the twin cities, and what it says about how the international becomes local -- and vice versa:

Minnesota is home to about 30,000 Liberians. It is one of the largest Liberian communities in the nation, and most have never told their stories publicly, said Jennifer Presthold, deputy director of the Minneapolis-based Advocates for Human Rights. The organization, which does work around the globe, has been a partner of the truth commission, sending dozens of Minnesota attorneys into the community here and nationally to take written testimony about Liberians' war trauma and its effects years later.


We can add the ability to travel to take testimony in foreign countries to the list of distinctions between TRCs and national prosecutions for war-time atrocities. It would also appear to have at least one important advantage over prosecutions in that it permits the participation of victims who are too traumatized to ever be able to return to their home country and/or groups that are too long exiled to be considered active participants in politics back home.

For those in the St. Paul area who are interested, the public hearings are taking place at Hamline University (full press release here):

The hearings will take place Tuesday, June 10 through Saturday, June 14 from 9:30 a.m.-5:30 p.m. (CST) in Sundin Music Hall, located at 1536 Hewitt Avenue on Hamline University’s Saint Paul campus. The hearings are free, and the public is welcome to sit in and observe the proceedings.
Big picture, fine lens: A response to Mohsen al Attar
My thanks to Mohsen al Attar for his comments on my Article, and to the editors of Opinio Juris and the Yale Journal of International Law for organizing this symposium.

Mohsen al Attar’s comments bring the historical critique of global capitalist arrangements to the contemporary project of human rights, particularly the under-recognized “sub-set” of economic and social rights. He responds to the conceptual micro-study of the minimum core idea, demonstrated in Parts II to IV of my Article, by emphasizing its final conceptual step. This analysis moves upwards and outwards, into the heart of debates about the future of the world economy. Yet my Article suggests the importance of combining this step with a grounded analysis of economic and social rights, as well as the basic background ideas – of market exchange, their distributive consequences and their economic and political justifications – in which they operate. It is only by taking into account the full spectrum of analysis – of both the global market framework and the contours of individual rights claims – that the formidable challenges of economic and social rights, as outlined in the concluding part of my Article, can be addressed. As al Attar notes, I advocate, in large part, a return to more explicit claims of responsibility, causality, and benchmarking, rather than the use of a minimum core proxy. In areas no less complex than the international regimes of trade, aid, security and development, as well as the structures of national economies, such an analysis is as difficult as it is necessary.

As a subject of historical critique, the minimum core concept may be mapped, as I suggest in Part I, on to developmentalist prescriptions of a minimum threshold for national and global redistribution – moderate enough to placate self-interested states and avoid production disincentives, and redistributive enough to transfer economic gains to the sectors or classes which can not otherwise access them. For al Attar, this lends a humanizing character to my suggestions. In the same way that my Article travels from constitutional to international fields of law in relation to the minimum core concept itself, al Attar correctly points out that the idea of economic and social protections is itself borrowed from welfare state design. The ameliorative necessity of such rights, which developed in lock-step with industrialization and market capitalism, were recognized by classical liberal political economists like Adam Smith. Yet their institutionalization came from political struggle and powerful alliances. Both the idea and the movement were sidelined, to deleterious effect, during the neoliberal reforms of the 1990s, and the mantra of privatization, deregulation and liberalization. The transition crises in Eastern Europe and the public health emergency in Sub-Saharan Africa, following on the heels of these reforms, serve as empirical reminders of these consequences.

Nonetheless, the prescriptions of my Article do more than humanize this fact. If it were merely humanizing, it might simply call for a push – even a “big push” – for increased foreign aid. Or it might move a little further, and adopt the “augmented” Washington Consensus, which has finally conceded the importance of social safety nets and targeted poverty reduction. Yet I suggest that there is