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The Paris Conference assigned the League of Nations the task of continuing to construct the new international order. This in turn would restructure the international system. Through administering institutions and adjudicating issues, the League sought to reconcile the liberalism of Wilsonianism with the realities of geopolitics. Mandates, never colonies in a legal sense, posited an alternative to colonialism, however much the mandatory powers wanted to administer them as imperial domains. Minority protection sought to re-engineer citizenship itself, so that minorities could preserve the attributes that made them minorities while enabling them to become full members of the national communities of the successor states to the multinational empires. The record of the League proved the most troubled in international security, its broadest but most ill-defined area of responsibility. In Manchuria and Ethiopia, the League proved unable to prevent determined imperial expansion on the part of Japan and Italy, two founding members. The work of the League is best assessed not in categories of ‘success’ or ‘failure’, but in the new ways it posited creating a global legal order.
The chapter argues that post-1945 international human rights law cannot be understood without accounting for the interwar period and some core elements of human rights discourse which existed at the time. Whereas classical histories of human rights have focused on genealogy and teleology to spell out the advent of rights universalism, more recent work has anchored the origins of human rights in national political communities. Accounting for these new historiographies, this chapter distinguishes between nineteenth-century human rights discourse and post–Second World War international human rights law. Elements of the former and antecedents of the latter can be found in the interwar period, in particular in the legal regimes for the protection of refugees and minorities. Although it analyses the two regimes separately, it articulates their points of convergence and situates them in the context of rising nationalism and the advent of the individual as a subject of international law.
This chapter deals with questions of sovereignty, territory and jurisdiction during the League of Nations era. It discusses how the concept of sovereignty developed until the League era and how it was understood then. Questions of territory and jurisdiction are closely linked with sovereignty, but, given the immense scope of this topic, it will only be considered as far as it affects the central substance of the chapter. This general exposition of the concept of sovereignty will be followed by an explication how the interwar period saw the emergence of, first, its general principle of horizontal protection of the territorial and jurisdictional aspect of states by international law; second, structured exceptions to this principle qua its vertical limitation of sovereignty through the League system; and third, curious cases where the territorial and jurisdictional powers of states had to be reconciled with other innovative legal principles such as human rights and self-determination. These explications will be illustrated and substantiated by a selection of the relevant cases decided by the Permanent Court of International Justice and other judicial bodies.
Between 1660 and 1775 the number of European countries with diplomatic relations with the Ottoman Empire that obtained ahdames of their own grew rapidly, but many of these newcomers did not establish networks of consulates and vice-consulates in the eastern Mediterranean. Instead, they appointed the consuls of other European nations as their vice-consuls. This did not hurt the legal privileges of the merchants from these countries. In the course of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, some nations asked the Ottoman government to renew their capitulations several times with the single aim of obtaining more privileges. This development culminated in the French capitulations of 1740, which incorporated the clauses of virtually all earlier ahdnames. In the eyes of many Ottomans, the capitulations of 1740 came to symbolise the Europeans’ ceaseless attempts to obtain more and more privileges from the Turks. But the French renewal of their capitulations in 1673 already laid the foundations for the rise of imperialism. It was then that the Ottoman authorities granted Ottoman subjects working for foreigners as interpreters or as warehousemen the same fiscal and legal status as the Westerners. It was also in 1673 that the French had their role as protectors of the Christian Holy Places in Jerusalem, as well as of all Catholic clergymen – not just Western missionaries, but all Catholic clerics – in the Levant codified in their capitulations. It was this French model that the Russians used in 1774 to claim their own protectorate over all Greek Orthodox Christians in the Ottoman realm.
Japan's swing to the right in the December 2012 Lower House election placed three-quarters of the seats in the hands of conservative parties. The result should come as no surprise. This political movement not only capitalized on a putative external threat generated by recent international territorial disputes (with China/Taiwan over the Senkaku/Diaoyu islands and with South Korea over Takeshima/Dokdo islands). It also rode a xenophobic wave during the 2000s, strengthened by fringe opposition to reformers seeking to give non-Japanese more rights in Japanese politics and society.
This article traces the arc of that xenophobic trajectory by focusing on three significant events: The defeat in the mid-2000s of a national “Protection of Human Rights” bill (jinken yōgo hōan); Tottori Prefecture's Human Rights Ordinance of 2005 that was passed on a local level and then rescinded; and the resounding defeat of proponents of local suffrage for non-citizens (gaikokujin sanseiken) between 2009-11. The article concludes that these developments have perpetuated the unconstitutional status quo of a nation with no laws against racial discrimination in Japan.
Genocide is sometimes called the ’crime of crimes’. The word was coined by Raphael Lemkin in 1944, then declared an international crime by the United Nations General Assembly. In 1948, the Genocide Convention was adopted. As the first human rights treaty of modern times, it constituted a significant intrusion into what had previously been a matter exclusively of domestic concern. This explains the narrow definition of the crime of genocide. It requires proof of an intent to destroy a national, ethnic, racial or religious group. Only a half century after its adoption did the Genocide Convention take on real significance with inter-State cases being filed at the International Court of Justice and many prosecutions at the International Criminal Tribunals for the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda. The Convention requires that States Parties punish genocide but they are also required to prevent it, even when it takes place outside their own territory. More than 150 States have ratified the Genocide Convention. Genocide is also prohibited under customary international law. It is generally agreed that the duty to punish genocide is a peremptory norm of international law (jus cogens).
The post-First World War minorities treaties regime was an initial attempt by international law to address the rights of national and ethnic minorities. Its shorcomings prompted Raphael Lemkin, in his book Axis Rule in Occupied Europe, to propose a new category of international crime that he named genocide. The International Military Tribunal prosecuted acts of genocide using the category of crimes against humanity. Several of the defendants were convicted of acts aimed at destruction of Europe’s Jewish population. However, crimes against humanity were confined to acts associated with aggressive war. At the first session of the United Nations General Assembly in 1946, a resolution on genocide was proposed in order to address the peacetime atrocities that were neglected in the Nuremberg judgment. The resolution recognized genocide as an international crime and called for preparation of a convention.
The 1948 Genocide Convention is a vital legal tool in the international campaign against impunity. Its provisions, including its enigmatic definition of the crime and its pledge both to punish and to prevent the 'crime of crimes', have now been considered in important judgments by the International Court of Justice, the international criminal tribunals and domestic courts. Since the second edition appeared in 2009, there have been important new judgments as well as attempts to apply the concept of genocide to a range of conflicts. Attention is given to the concept of protected groups, to problems of criminal prosecution and to issues of international judicial cooperation, such as extradition. The duty to prevent genocide and its relationship with the doctrine of the 'responsibility to protect' are also explored.
This chapter explores the synergies, limitations, and challenges of addressing statelessness through human rights and development approaches, using the Hill Country Tamils of Sri Lanka as a case study. In addressing the legacy of statelessness, both the human rights and development frameworks must be drawn on and used simultaneously. However, a frameworks approach alone falls short in addressing statelessness, given the political, economic and societal factors that perpetuate discrimination. Instead, as the case of the Hill Country Tamils demonstrates, both human rights and development approaches must be underpinned by a deeper commitment to pursuing equality and combatting discrimination at large. Despite claims of success, the legacy of statelessness in Sri Lanka still lingers. The Hill Country Tamils are still among the ‘furthest behind’ in Sri Lanka and continue to experience severe discrimination well after securing formal citizenship. The community’s prolonged statelessness has led to long-term deterioration in human rights conditions, such that a grant of formal citizenship alone is inadequate to address structural drivers of disadvantage that the community continues to endure.
What does it mean “to tolerate” in a post-Christian and post-secular state? This chapter argues that antecedents of contemporary conflicts over diversity in Europe can be found in early modernity, specifically in early modern practices of toleration, which impacted on both the belonging and the visibility of minorities. New forms of intolerance pertain to the position of religious, ethnoreligious, and sexual minorities in public life, echoing the concerns of the public visibility of minorities inhering in historical Christendom. The political articulation of certain groups as “other” to “the nation” is increasingly mediated through constitutional repertoires, such as constitutional revision and amendments, developments in the hermeneutics of constitutional concepts, or pseudo-constitutional behaviour. This chapter introduces the main themes: tolerance and intolerance, constitutionalism, secularisation, and their significance across the liberal–illiberal divide.
This concluding chapter reflects on the phenomenon of constitutional intolerance, its many faces, its entanglement in histories of toleration, and its implications for discourses on constitutionalism, illiberalism, and secularisation. It argues that the default lines have shifted from secularisation to fundamental questions about the future of constitutional democracy in Europe, considering the fundamental aspects of constitutional intolerance: the articulation of otherness vis-à-vis the political community and the sanctioning of this othering in public space. The conclusion also considers the rise of “cynical democracy” in the instrumental use of constitutional repertoires to further partisan interests, as well as the right wing tendency towards the overrepresentation of formal-procedural legalism, an attachment of legitimacy to legality, and a weakening of the capacity for normative reflection in the highest courts.
While statelessness remains a global phenomenon, it is a global issue with an Asian epicentre. This chapter situates the book within the context and multi-disciplinary scholarship on statelessness in Asia by reviewing the causes, conditions and/or challenges of statelessness. It recognizes statelessness in this region as a phenomenon beyond forced migration and highlights the arbitrary and discriminatory use of state power in producing and sustaining statelessness. The chapter reviews the ‘state of statelessness’ in Asia, including applicable international, regional and national legal frameworks. It also maps some of the core themes that emerge from the contributors’ examination of the causes and conditions of statelessness in Asia. These include: the relationship between ethnic, religious, cultural and linguistic diversity and statelessness; the legacies of colonialism; contemporary politics surrounding nation-building, border regimes and mobilities; as well as intersecting vulnerabilities. The chapter concludes with some preliminary thoughts on frameworks of analysis and future research agendas, including challenges and prospects for reform.
Why could politicians of religious minority backgrounds become national leaders in some countries soon after modern representative institutions were adopted, whereas in some other countries, almost all the national leaders have been from the religious majority background for decades if not centuries? I argue that the most important factor explaining the incidence of national leaders of a religious minority background or lack thereof is whether the main adversary in the constitutive conflict that established the nation-state was of the same religious sectarian background or not. Nations established in a constitutive conflict against an adversary of the same religion are much more likely to have national leaders of a religious minority background. Furthermore, political leaders of religious minority backgrounds have three “secular” paths out of their marginality, which is also determined by the combination and nature of the primary external and internal conflict of the nation. I examine these paths through the cases of Britain (liberalism), France (socialism), and Hungary and Italy (nationalism). Finally, I examine a world-historical example of pattern change, the rise of Catholic-origin national leaders in previously Protestant-led Germany, which was due to a new constitutive conflict (World War II and the Holocaust) that altered the national-religious configuration.
How does a religious group's demographic status influence its members' attitudes toward economic and political liberalization? This study adopts a contextual approach and compares Azeri Muslims' political and economic attitudes in two illiberal states, Azerbaijan and Georgia. We argue that attitudes toward liberalization are shaped by the strength of association with one’s religious community and its relative position vis-à-vis the state and society. Drawing on a series of Caucasus Barometer surveys, we find that context and position in society matter. In religiously restrictive Muslim-majority Azerbaijan, Muslims’ religiosity is associated with greater support for political liberalization but lower support for economic liberalization. In religiously restrictive non-Muslim-majority Georgia, however, Muslims’ religiosity reflects the converse: opposition to political liberalization but support for economic liberalization. Thus, instead of theologies, the political and economic opportunity structures facing religious groups may play a critical role in determining their attitudes toward various forms of liberalization.
Democracies grapple with the tension between the principle of majority rule and ensuring respect for the interest of political minorities, however those might be defined in different societies and different circumstances. As an initial matter, constitutional designers confront this tension in the original architecture of a democratic system. But the balance struck between majorities and minorities is not exclusively settled through the original constitutional design. In the United States, at least, legal doctrine and statutory enactments have also been centrally engaged in ongoing fashion with this fundamental tension.
As this essay chronicles, the law of democracy began with a focus on ensuring the majoritarian basis of American democracy. Over time, the focus then shifted to concern with fair representation of the interests of minorities within the majoritarian system. Now, we argue, the focus of reform efforts is shifting back to efforts to restore the majoritarian thrust of democracy. The law of democracy cycles, perhaps without final resolution, between supporting majoritarianism, concern for minority interests, and back again to shoring up the majoritarian foundations of democracy.
In our era, it is the power of factional minorities who are able to leverage control of plurality winner processes that poses the greatest challenge for American democracy. The threatened tyranny of the minority of the majority now looms as a central challenge that democratic thought, policy, and doctrine must confront.
This study uses a rational choice approach to argue that an under-theorized and rarely tested cause of governmental discrimination against religious minorities is its popularity. Specifically, we argue that self-interested politicians are more likely to enact discriminatory policies when they believe said discrimination will be popular. These policies, in turn, have payoffs via increased public perceptions of governmental legitimacy. Using the Religion and State project, round 3 and World Values Survey data for members of the majority religion between 1990 and 2014 in 58 Christian-majority countries, we demonstrate that prejudice against members of other religions predicts increased governmental religious discrimination, which is, in turn, associated with higher confidence in government, legislatures, and political parties. While our results are specific to discrimination against religious minorities, this suggests that when discrimination against minorities in general is popular, politicians are likely to oblige.
This chapter takes German history all the way up to the early years of the twenty-first century. It tells the tale of the all-German youth revolt of 1968 and of the later students’ revolt in Frankfurt am Main. Moving on to the fall of the Berlin Wall and the reunification of Germany, it then concentrates on the issue of remembering the National Socialist past and commemorating the Holocaust in the new Germany, beginning with the Historians’ Debate in the 1980s and ending with the later, more public and more political controversies, till the scandal around the festive speech by Martin Walser in the Paulskirche and the various responses to it. Most important among these was surely that of Ignaz Bubis, and this man’s biography, a rather tragic tale again, is concisely told in this chapter. Finally, a discussion of the controversies around the Berlin Memorial to the Murdered European Jews closes the chapter – and the book, bringing the story all the way to the new millennium.
We investigate the mental health of multicultural families (CFs) in South Korea, identify risk factors, and propose interventions to improve mental health. Adults over 19 years of age were analyzed using the Community Health Survey 2019 in South Korea, consisting of 228,952 individuals including 3,524 from multi-CFs. We employed chi-squared tests and multiple logistic regression to compare mental health between multi- and mono-CFs, exploring the influence of various factors. Multi-CFs had significantly higher levels of stress recognition (P-value = 0.010) and experiences of extreme sadness or despair (P-value = 0.002) than mono-CFs. In multi-CFs, younger group, households with lower income and people with unhealthy behaviors regarding walking or sleeping were at risk of mental health. Socially isolated families, relative to the families participating in active social gatherings, had about a 1.36 times higher risk of stress, 2 times higher experiences of extreme sadness or despair and 5.32 times higher depressive symptoms. Multi-CFs are vulnerable to mental health problems, and even within multi-CFs, groups with relatively low socioeconomic status should be prioritized since problems are more significant among them. Activated social networks can help multi-CFs integrate into society and promote mental health.
In 1920, the Syrian Congress at Damascus ratified a democratic constitution that would have been beyond the dreams of activists in the 2011 Arab Spring. Under the leadership of the leading Islamic reformer of the day, Sheikh Rashid Rida, the constitution disestablished Islam as a state religion, guaranteed one-third of parliamentary seats to non-Muslim minorities, and promised autonomy to the majority Christian territory of Mount Lebanon. Unlike the Ottoman constitution that had once reigned in Greater Syria, the Syrian document granted the preponderance of power to parliament, not the monarch. Nonetheless, the British and French colluded in the willful destruction of this nascent democracy. And with League of Nations’ support, they divided the Syrian Arab Kingdom into sectarian mandatory states. By stripping Syrian Arabs of a self-determined political community, Europeans denied them the “right to have rights,” as Hannah Arendt argued. The political backlash against European rule transformed the minority question in Syria into a polarized and violent contest, leading to the sectarian conflicts that overwhelmed Syria, Lebanon, and Palestine in the remainder of the 20th century.
In most accounts of peacemaking after World War I, “flawed” decisions at “Versailles” caused the ethnically mixed states of Central and Eastern Europe to descend into violent ethnic clashes, while the allegedly more homogenous Western European states faced few issues with minorities. This article challenges this simplistic view by examining the treatment of German-speaking minorities in the borderlands of Alsace-Lorraine, South Tyrol, and Eupen-Malmedy between 1918 and 1923 in the immediate post-war and the early interwar period. Building on an innovative comparative framework of five key variables, we find that, in all three cases, post-war borders generated incentives for the respective governments to suppress their new minorities, and that states used ethnic markers to target them. The strength of state institutions and liberal principles account for a reversal (Alsace-Lorraine), moderation (Eupen-Malmedy), or hardening (South Tyrol) of measures. International commitment to defend the new borders and the absence of a tradition of ethnic conflict also had a significant impact.