CPIJ in the Media

Penelope Simons on getting companies to respect human rights

By | CPIJ in the Media, News

Yves Faguy | CBA National

This week, the Corporate Human Rights Benchmark (CHRB) published its 2018 report, concluding that most of the 100 companies reviewed are failing to live up to their duties under the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights.  Prior to the report’s release, CBA National interviewed Professor Penelope Simons of the University of Ottawa and the recipient of the 2018 Walter S. Tarnopolsky Award, recognized for her contribution to human rights, domestically and internationally, about how to address corporate complicity in human rights abuses.

CBA National: Can you give us a sense first of where we’re at in terms of corporate accountability for human rights violations?

Penelope Simons: This issue has been debated globally for decades. But in the early 2000s, the United Nations Sub-Commission on the Promotion and Protection of Human Rights adopted the Draft Norms on the Responsibilities of Transnational Corporations and Other Business Enterprises which were submitted to what is now the Human Rights Council. The HRC rejected them. The Norms were drafted in mandatory language and were essentially a blueprint for a treaty that would impose binding legal obligations on business actors. Both states and businesses were strongly against the development of such obligations. However, the HRC did appoint, Harvard professor John Ruggie, as the Special Representative of the Secretary General on Business and Human Rights. He developed a policy framework and the United Nations Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights (UNGPs) to operationalize the policy framework. In 2011 the Human Rights Council unanimously endorsed the Guiding Principles. This was an important step forward, to have widely accepted document addressing business and human rights. However, the UNGPs are also flawed in a number of ways.

N: How so?

PS: They did not significantly alter the status quo, in the sense that they outline the binding human rights obligations of states to protect individuals and groups from violations of human rights by business actors. At the same time the “obligations” delineated in the Guiding Principles for businesses to respect human rights are based in social not legal responsibility. In order to demonstrate that they are fulfilling this obligation to respect human rights, businesses are supposed to engage in human rights due diligence, among other things. But unless this is mandated by a state, or mandated by international law, then they may or may not do so. In other words, their social obligation is self-regulation. Additionally, the Guiding Principles articulated a very conservative view of the obligation of home states to regulate the transnational activities of their corporate nationals beyond their territory.

N: So home states – and not just host states – should be enforcing these as legal obligations?

PS: Yes, home states should be taking action to regulate corporate nationals to ensure that they do not violate human rights when operating in other countries.

N: So how is Canada faring in all of this compared to other countries?

PS: I don’t think there is any country that is doing enough. France probably has the most progressive law, where companies of a certain size have an obligation to prepare a vigilance plan and implement it within their corporate group and their supply chain. In Canada, we’ve had 20 years of advocacy and UN bodies calling on Canada to regulate its extractive industry and to provide access to justice in Canadian courts and other non-judicial fora. This year, the Liberal government announced the creation of the Canadian Ombudsperson for Responsible Enterprise. This is an important step forward. People claiming to be victims of corporate-related human rights violations by Canadian extractive and garment companies operating abroad will be able to bring a complaint to this ombudsperson. The Ombudsperson is supposed to have the power to compel witnesses and documents. However, the office hasn’t been established, and so we still don’t know whether or not it will have those powers. Without those powers, it will not be a credible and effective complaint mechanism. Another point is that, Canada continues to use the same 2014 policy for corporate social responsibility in the extractive sector that it inherited from the previous government. The policy is vaguely worded, and is based on self-regulation. It encourages businesses to “align their practices as applicable” to a range of intergovernmental and multistakeholder initiatives. And it doesn’t meet the requirements of the Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights. We need to deal with that.

N: How?

PS: There are many ways in which the government supports business abroad — through the Canada Pension Plan, through support by Export Development Canada, through corporate law rules that facilitate the creation of complex corporate structures and allow corporate groups to minimize their exposure to liability, even where such liability arises from serious human rights violations. We also support our companies through trade missions, and by negotiating international investment agreements with countries, including those in which Canadian extractives operate. These latter agreements create strong protections for investors and allow them to avoid domestic courts and to take host states directly binding international arbitration. If we’re supporting businesses in all of these ways without regard for their behaviour, then as a country we are complicit in those human rights violations.

N: So governments should exercise more leverage over those companies?

PS: Yes, there are many ways to do this. For example, as a condition of support EDC should require companies to engage in rigorous human rights due diligence and should itself undertake a human rights impact assessment of a proposed project. If it’s clear that that a project cannot be undertaken without violating human rights, then should we actually be supporting that company?

N: So what needs to change for governments – here in Canada or elsewhere – to decide they need to incentivize companies in this manner?

PS: That’s the big question. How do we develop political will for this? The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change’s recent report is a wake-up call. The IPCC has called on us to change the way we live and do business if we want to avoid a temperature rise of 1.5 degrees Celsius. The report notes that sustainable development is key and that “[s]ocial justice and equity are core aspects of climate-resilient development pathways … as they address challenges and inevitable trade-offs, they widen opportunities, and ensure that options, visions and values are deliberated between and within countries and communities, without making the poor and disadvantaged worse-off”. The action that we take has to be focused on that. Here in Canada we have to think about how extractive companies contribute directly to climate change, particularly oil and gas and coal, but also how they contribute to indirectly. Many of them operate in a way that is unsustainable, through their impacts on the environment and on the human rights of individuals and communities.

N: What would be a first good step to ensure better corporate accountability?

PS: The first step would be for Canada to adopt a comprehensive legislative framework that requires companies to respect human rights and to engage in human rights due diligence, and the latter should be overseen by an independent monitoring body. It should also include a range of incentive mechanisms —we’ve talked about some already. We also need to establish parent company or even enterprise liability in Canadian courts for companies that violate human rights abroad, and maybe certain reporting obligations. Finally, where companies commit or are complicit in criminal activity — like slavery, torture, forced labour, gang rape – then we need criminal sanctions to allow prosecution of corporations and the senior officers responsible for decisions that led to such conduct.

The Tarnopolsky Award is given by the Canadian Section of the International Commission of Jurists each year to a Canadian resident who has made an outstanding contribution to human rights, domestically or internationally. The selection committee is comprised of one representative from the Canadian Bar Association, the Canadian Judges’ Conference, the Canadian Society of Law Teachers and the ICJ.


News Release – Canadian Human Rights Commission welcomes new part-time Commissioner

By | CPIJ in the Media, News

Press release of the Canadian Human Rights Commission

November 22, 2018 – Ottawa, Ontario – Canadian Human Rights Commission

The Canadian Human Rights Commission (CHRC) is pleased to announce the appointment, by Order in Council, of a new part-time Commissioner, Dr. Joanna Harrington, effective immediately.

Dr. Harrington has been a career law professor for almost 20 years, having taught at the University of Nottingham, Western University and the University of Alberta, where she currently serves as a Full Professor within the Faculty of Law.

Her teaching and research activities focus on topics at the intersection of constitutional law and international law, with her published work examining matters of foreign relations law, the law of international organizations, the interplay between national bills of rights and international human rights law, and issues of international and transnational criminal law.
A former Scholar-in-Residence with Canada’s Department of Foreign Affairs, she has also participated in the negotiation of new international instruments at the United Nations, the Organization of American States, and the Assembly of States Parties to the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court.

She is well published on a variety of topics and is an award-winning legal scholar, having received the Canadian Association of Law Teachers Prize for Academic Excellence in 2018. Dr. Harrington has also worked as a consultant with international and national institutions, participated in outreach programs with NGOs, and contributed to training programs in international law for judges, diplomats and military officers.

She holds a B.A. from the University of British Columbia, a J.D. from the University of Victoria, and a Ph.D. in Law from the University of Cambridge. Dr. Harrington was called to the bar of British Columbia in 1995 and the bar of Ontario in 2002.


Murdered Honduran Activist Berta Cáceres Deserves Open Justice

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Cáceres’ assassination in 2016 was one in over 130 targeted killings of environmental defenders in Honduras since the 2009 coup d’état

By Amanda Ghahremani and Leah Gardner | The HuffPost

The long awaited first trial for the murder of renowned Indigenous environmental defender Berta Cáceres was set to open on 17 September 2018 in Tegucigalpa, Honduras. Cáceres’ assassination in 2016 was one in over 130 targeted killings of environmental defenders in Honduras since the 2009 coup d’état, including various members of her organization, the Civic Council of Popular and Indigenous Organization of Honduras (COPINH). Her case has become emblematic of this tragic state of affairs, and of the struggles facing human rights activists around the world.

Two and a half years into the process to prosecute eight men accused of carrying out Berta’s murder, lawyers for her family made what was likely a painstakingly difficult decision to request the recusal of the three-judge Tribunal hearing the case. This drastic step, taken on the day the trial was set to begin, alleges abuse of authority and obstruction of justice by the judges, in part for failing to sanction prosecutors for withholding evidence.

Garifuna women protest demanding justice in the case of the murder of the Lenca indigenous leader Berta Caceres, in Tegucigalpa, on May 25, 2017. (Orlando Sierrs/AFP/Getty Images)

The victims’ lawyers submitted several other constitutional injunctions before the hearing, one of which requested that the public have greater access to the trial through a live audio transmission of the proceedings; a request that had been previously denied. The court rejected this request once again on Friday.

It is no surprise that live streaming is important to the victims in this case. Beyond a mere technical issue, diversified access to judicial proceedings lies at the heart of the concept of open justice — the idea that courts should be open, public, and accessible — and meaningful victim participation.

Honduran legislators have acknowledged the importance of open justice by guaranteeing the right to a public trial and providing some victims legal standing before the court. Honduras has also incorporated international treaties into national law through its constitution. These treaties oblige States to hold public, open trials in adequate facilities. According to the UN, the purpose is to ensure “the transparency of proceedings” and to provide “an important safeguard for the interest of the individual and of society at large.”

Before her murder, Berta was recognized around the world and throughout Honduras for her work to protect the Gualcarque River, sacred to the Lenca people, from a hydroelectric project. These same people will be deeply affected by the outcome of the trial and deserve access to the courtroom. There is also a massive transnational solidarity movement of environmental and human rights activists who are closely following this public-interest case.

Unfortunately, the Tribunal will record audio of the trial as a matter of protocol, but not for public diffusion. It is unclear when, if ever, the public would have access to the trial recordings. The inability to hear what is going on in the courtroom in real-time substantially decreases the value of a recorded hearing by impeding contemporaneous observation and participation by victims and the public. This is especially important after the first day of trial proved there were insufficient seats for many members of Berta’s community, who were forced to wait outside.

Providing overflow rooms can help rectify this inaccessibility, but there are many legitimate reasons why victims may be unable to physically attend court, including travel costs, safety concerns, psychological trauma, and the inability to adjust schedules to an unpredictable judiciary. A live broadcast would ensure access for the greatest number of people.

A live transmission is also easily attainable with advances in technology. Countries like Mexico, Brazil, Guatemala, Canada, the United Kingdom, South Africa, and India, have all moved towards live broadcasting proceedings that are in the public interest. This practice is also prevalent at the Inter-American Court, the European Court of Human Rights, and various international criminal tribunals.

Seven of the accused on the murder of indigenous environmental activist Berta Cáceres sit in court on Sept. 17, 2018 in Tegucigalpa. (Orlando Sierrs/AFP/Getty Images)

The Tribunal’s failure to take steps to provide overflow rooms or allow live streaming must be viewed in the larger context of this case. In addition to allegations of abuse of authority and withholding evidence, lawyers for the victims, members of the media, and the victims themselves have been repeatedly attacked and targeted in highly dangerous smear campaigns aimed at criminalizing and intimidating them.

The day the trial was set to begin, a prominent freelance journalist for the Guardian, and the only English-language reporter covering the trial on the ground, Nina Lakhani, was targeted online in a smear campaign by a fake group with alleged links to the Honduran intelligence, which falsely claimed she was involved in violent insurgency. Lakhani was previously targeted after publishing an article in which a former soldier claimed that Berta’s name had appeared on a U.S.-trained special forces hit list. At the hearing, three security guards informed her that the courtroom was closed to the public before she was eventually allowed to enter.

The Honduran judiciary had an opportunity last week, with the world watching, to demonstrate its willingness to ensure open courts and meaningful access to justice. Live streaming the court proceedings would have gone a long way towards greater transparency and public confidence in a judiciary facing serious allegations of misconduct. Sadly, the Tribunal failed to act.

Amanda Ghahremani is the Legal Director of the Canadian Centre for International Justice (CCIJ), a Canadian non-profit that supports survivors of international crimes to seek legal redress. Leah Gardner is currently a volunteer lawyer at CCIJ. The authors were in Honduras as members of an international legal observation mission to monitor the Berta Cáceres murder trial.


Neighbors Refer Venezuela to Criminal Court in ‘Historic’ Rebuke

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By Ernesto Londoño and Marlise Simons | The New York Times

President Nicolás Maduro, center, in Caracas this week. The crisis in Venezuela “demands collective action,” the president of Peru said. (Photo Miraflores Press Office)


Five Latin American countries and Canada on Wednesday urged the International Criminal Court to consider prosecuting senior officials in Venezuela for extensive human rights abuses, the first time that member nations have referred another member to the tribunal.

In a region where leaders tend to avoid criticizing one another publicly, the step by Argentina, Chile, Colombia, Paraguay and Peru represented an extraordinary rebuke of President Nicolás Maduro.

Governments in the region have become increasingly alarmed about the economic and political crisis in Venezuela. Acute shortages of food and medicine have prompted millions to migrate, largely to neighboring countries.

The referral gives The Hague-based tribunal a renewed sense of urgency to investigate abuses in Venezuela.

“The leaders of these six countries have taken a historic step today, unprecedented in the history of the Americas, creating a crucial milestone in the interests of justice, accountability, non-repetition and reparation to the victims of the Venezuelan dictatorship,” said Luis Almagro, the secretary general of the Organization of American States, in a statement.

Here are some facts about the referral to the international court and what it could mean for Venezuela:

Why did the other countries refer Venezuela?

Venezuelan migrants walking to Colombia this month. (Photo by Federico Rios Escobar for The New York Times)

They’re overwhelmed by the unrelenting exodus of Venezuelans, which has accelerated amid soaring inflation. The United Nations estimates that 1.6 million Venezuelans have left since 2015 and that as many as 1.8 million could migrate this year.

In recent years Venezuela’s neighbors have had an open-door policy, but it has come at a political cost as communities feel increasingly besieged by migrants, many of whom arrive with no savings and with serious health problems.

“The magnitude of this exodus is unprecedented in our region,” President Martín Vizcarra of Peru told the United Nations General Assembly on Tuesday, noting that his country has taken in some 450,000 Venezuelans. “It demands collective action by the international community.”

How unusual is this step?

“The magnitude of this exodus is unprecedented in our region,” President Martín Vizcarra of Peru told the United Nations General Assembly. (Photo by Richard Drew/Associated Press)

Highly. The court has never opened a case brought by one government against another, and governments in Latin America for decades have adhered to an unspoken rule: Stay out of the messy internal affairs of neighbors. But several have begun to see Venezuela’s economic unraveling as a growing regional threat. The tide of migrants has led to spikes in crime and strained the health and education systems of other countries.

“This is a significant, historic event,” said Fernando Cutz, a former senior White House official who worked on Latin America policy in the Obama and Trump administrations. “Ten years ago, it would have been impossible to think of the region turning on one of its own.”

What’s the gist of the referral?

Protesters during clashes with the Venezuelan police last year. (Photo Meridith Kohut for The New York Times)

In a letter signed by the six heads of state this week in New York, on the margins of the United Nations General Assembly, the countries asked the international court’s top prosecutor, Fatou Bensouda, to investigate human rights abuses committed by the Venezuelan government since February 2014. During that month, the government used harsh tactics to clamp down on mass protests.

The letter notes that human rights experts have documented abuses that include arbitrary detentions, extrajudicial killings, torture and sexual crimes.

Isn’t the International Criminal Court already investigating Venezuela?

“Hunger!” and “Dictatorship” are scrawled on a security door in Caracas. (Photo by Meridith Kohut for The New York Times)

Yes. Ms. Bensouda announced in February that her office had launched a “preliminary examination” into allegations of large-scale human rights abuses in Venezuela. That step can lead to a formal investigation and criminal charges.

The court said it is investigating allegations that security personnel have used excessive force against demonstrators, detained members of the political opposition and subjected prisoners to “serious abuse.”

The court was established in 2002 as a tribunal of last resort for war crimes, genocide and crimes against humanity. Since its inception, it has indicted only Africans and has won only a handful of convictions.

How long will an investigation take?

Venezuela issued new currency in response to runaway inflation. People waited in long lines last month in Caracas to get the bills. (Photo Meridith Kohut for The New York Times)

It’s unclear. Court investigations have tended to last for years, and experts said it would be highly unlikely for charges to be filed any time soon.

“Time frames at the I.C.C. are measured in years, not months,” said Todd Buchwald, a former senior State Department official who oversaw global criminal justice matters from 2015 to 2017.

But the sense of urgency conveyed by neighboring countries may prompt the court to make the case a priority.

People visiting a so-called red spot in Caracas, where voters presented a special identity card to receive boxes of food. (Photo Meridith Kohut for The New York Times)

“It does telegraph to the prosecutor these states are keen to provide access to people who have fled” and may have relevant information, said Joanna Harrington, a law professor at the University of Alberta who specializes in international criminal law.

Several of Venezuela’s neighbors have sought to isolate Mr. Maduro’s government as he has become increasingly authoritarian in recent years.

They also have tried to create rifts within Venezuela’s ruling party.

The threat of being prosecuted in The Hague “will most likely galvanize those in the inner circle to pull together,” said Mr. Cutz, the former White House official. But it could prompt others on the periphery of power to turn on the government, he added

President Trump described the crisis in Venezuela as a “human tragedy,” but he also challenged the authority of the International Criminal Court. (Photo Chang W. Lee/The New York Times)

Washington has long called on Latin American leaders to take a harder line against Venezuela. But Wednesday’s referral to the court is not a move the Trump administration can endorse.

During his speech to the United Nations General Assembly on Tuesday, President Trump described the crisis in Venezuela as a “human tragedy.” But in the same address he also lashed out at the International Criminal Court, saying that “as far as America is concerned,” the court has “no legitimacy and no authority.”

This echoes comments made this month by John R. Bolton, the national security adviser, who called the court “ineffective, unaccountable, and indeed, outright dangerous.” Mr. Bolton’s criticism was in response to a preliminary review of allegations of abuses in Afghanistan, which may include acts committed by American military or intelligence personnel.

The State Department would not specify whether the United States supports efforts to hold Venezuelan officials accountable at The Hague.

“We encourage thorough and transparent investigations into all credible reports of abuses,” the State Department said in a statement. “The crisis in Venezuela will only be resolved through the restoration of democratic governance, realistic economic policies, the rule of law, and respect for fundamental human rights and freedoms.”


A chance at justice for the Rohingya?

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Following Canada’s declaration that crimes against the Rohingya constitute ‘genocide,’ Payam Akhavan asks: Do the refugee camps in Bangladesh hold the key to prosecutions by the International Criminal Court?

By Payam Akhavan | OpenCanada

Kutupalong refugee camp. Photo by Yousuf Tushar.


26 September 2018 –“A wild elephant killed him,” an aid worker explained.

Having survived the scourge of the notorious Tatmadaw, the Myanmar military that slaughtered his people and drove them into exile, the 12-year-old boy — Shamsu Uddin — was trampled to death by the enormous beast as he slept.

Just two years ago, in 2016, Kutupalong was a wildlife refuge where endangered animals roamed freely in pristine forests. Now, it is the largest refugee camp in the world, an ocean of misery comprising some 700,000 Rohingya who have fled Myanmar’s Rakhine State to face an uncertain future in neighbouring Bangladesh. The mere existence of this city of sorrow is mute testimony to what the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights has described as a “textbook example of ethnic cleansing.”

As I walked through the camp in June, reflecting on the cruel irony of the boy’s fate, there were countless other children just like him, wandering in the dirt roads amidst the makeshift bamboo and tarpaulin shelters on the deforested hills they now called home. Their playful smiles masked the unspeakable horrors they had witnessed. Their experience was captured by that most potent of words, “genocide,” invoked by UN reports and, as of last week, Canadian parliamentarians alike, to condemn these monstrous atrocities. In terms of concrete action, what is most significant in the House of Commons’ September 20 motion is the call for punishment of the perpetrators before the International Criminal Court (ICC). But, as Canadian officials will no doubt see, the process to get there is long and complicated.

My visit to Kutupalong some months earlier was in pursuit of justice against seemingly impossible odds. I was there at the invitation of the Bangladesh government, gathering facts, speaking to people on the ground, trying to see what could be done. Some time before, I had hosted Bob Rae, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s special envoy to Myanmar, for a lecture at McGill University. In the Q&A, students had asked what Canada could do to ensure accountability. The fundamental question that emerged from those exchanges was: Does the ICC have jurisdiction over these crimes, and if so, on what basis?

The discussion was sadly an all too familiar ritual for those of us who toil in the human rights world. The vows of “never again,” the expressions of regret, the lectures on lessons learned, the condemnation of genocide, the calls for justice at The Hague; these exhausted moral mantras are soon overtaken by new abominations, and the cycle of recrimination and remorse repeats itself again and again — Bosnia, Rwanda, Congo, Darfur, Iraq, Syria, and now, Myanmar.

Places we never knew existed are now seared into our consciousness as sites of grief and rage, mourned and condemned for a time, only to be forgotten in the fleeting attention span of the news cycle. The calls for accountability after the fact may be all that we can pursue given the power realities of global politics, but what does justice mean against the overwhelming gravity of such atrocities? Is it ever possible to punish genocide? There is nothing like listening to survivors to remind us of both the inadequacy and utter necessity of struggling for whatever measure of justice can be achieved. In the case of Myanmar, that struggle takes place within the manifest constraints of that feeble court in The Hague that we invariably look to in desperation as a beacon of hope.

It is easy to despair and give up, but talking to the people in Kutupalong reminded me of the power of empathy, or rather, of how indifference makes us an accomplice to injustice. The impact of meaningful engagement is easily forgotten in our privileged corner of the world, far removed from the realities that most convincingly demonstrate the consequences of our choices. Sometimes our role models are found in the most unlikely places.

When the mass-exodus of the Rohingya began in late August 2017, the hapless survivors arrived in Bangladesh traumatized, starved and dehydrated. Many of them had terrible wounds, caused by bullets and machetes, while some had missing limbs because of land mines. There were no international relief agencies to receive them. It was the poor local farmers who took it upon themselves to help as best as they could with their meager supplies of food, clothing and medicine. Some cooked whatever rice they had and brought it to the desperate refugees in Tuk-Tuk rickshaws. Others hosted them in their modest homes. These accounts of selfless generosity were humbling. They put to shame the narcissistic currents of xenophobia and apathy in the prosperous Western world; our indifference to the suffering of others. The example of these compassionate first responders was an inspiration, a reminder that when confronted with suffering, there is no room for despondence, that we must do what we can, however inadequate it may be.

During my trip earlier this year, after meetings with the border guards and refugee agency officials, I was told that my next meeting would be with a group of women who wished to share their stories. It was with some apprehension that I entered the room, my heart racing with dread. I knew that what I was about to hear would be deeply disturbing. I also knew that I would probably be seen as the outside saviour by those desperate for hope. I was acutely aware that beyond listening with empathy, there wasn’t much I could do to heal their wounds.

Just two years earlier, I had visited the Yazidi camps in northern Iraq, listening to the heartbreaking account of two teenage sisters who had been enslaved by their ISIS captors. It reminded me of Bosnia and Rwanda in the 1990s when I worked with the UN. Across these divergent contexts, the accounts of sexual violence against women and girls were disturbingly similar; the weaponization of male narcissistic rage to humiliate, degrade and destroy. In meeting these anguished women, it was not lost on me that the Rohingya are by and large traditional Muslims, and that I found myself in their midst during the sacred month of Ramadan.

The meeting room at the Kutupalong reception centre was full of women, their faces covered by black niqabs. With only their eyes visible, it was difficult to gauge their facial expressions, but the piercing stares conveyed the enormity of their suffering. Mindful that they may not feel comfortable with a man, I didn’t pose any questions, letting them choose what they wished to share with me. I was soon surprised. In a striking display of defiance, they stood up one by one, walked towards me in sequence, and removed their head cover so I could see their face. With an astonishing dignity, they told their stories, bearing witness to the truth, an attempt to reclaim their voice, and their humanity. The horrors they conveyed were beyond words. “They threw my baby in the fire,” one of the women told me, speaking through the translator. The tears streaming from her eyes conveyed the deeper meaning of her words. It didn’t take long to notice that several of them were pregnant, visibly in their third trimester.

I confirmed later that as I had suspected, these were mostly children conceived as a result of rape. The women told me their stories because they wanted the world to know what had befallen them. They expected the UN to punish the perpetrators. I didn’t have the heart to tell them about the political cynicism that time and again left survivors with no justice. It was time for us to leave. I didn’t know how to say goodbye, what to promise them to give them a bit of hope. One of the women had an infant in her arms. I caressed his little head, smiling at his mother, trying to pretend that somehow, everything would be fine.

The author, Payam Akhavan, during his visit to the Kutupalong refugee camp. Photo by Yousuf Tushar.

Back at home, in the conference circuit of the human rights academics and activists, those of us in the business of global justice were marking the 20th anniversary of the adoption of the ICC Statute. Upon the conclusion of the Rome Diplomatic Conference in July 1998, this pivotal moment was hailed as a triumph for international law, the beginning of the end for an entrenched culture of impunity in global politics. The ICC was built on the relatively successful precedents of the ad hoc International Criminal Tribunals for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) and Rwanda (ICTR), established by the UN Security Council in 1993 and 1994 respectively.

Twenty years later however, with only a handful of “small fish” convicted, the court has proved to be a disappointment to those who envisaged a robust institution with teeth. The lack of political support by the erstwhile champions of a rule-based international order — demonstrated recently by US National Security Advisor John Bolton’s scathing attack against the ICC — and the attendant resource constraints are compounded by a bureaucratized and inefficient institution that is perceived even by its most vocal supporters as being in need of a significant overhaul.

Yet, for those in pursuit of global justice, the ICC is often the only available option where, as in Myanmar, the prospect of national trials occurring is slim to none. Of course, the states with the most appalling human rights records — such as Syria and Sudan — are least wont to sign the court’s statute, because to do so invites scrutiny of political and military leaders who devise and act in furtherance of criminal policies such as “ethnic cleansing” and genocide.

Myanmar (also) does not recognize the ICC’s jurisdiction, which should not come as a surprise. The only way around this limitation is for the UN Security Council to refer a situation based on its enforcement powers under Chapter VII of the UN Charter — the basis for establishment of the ICTY and ICTR in the 1990s, and the referral of Sudan and Libya to the ICC in 2005 and 2011 respectively. In fact, Canada’s House of Commons is calling for the referral of Myanmar on this same basis. But given the spread of myopic nationalism, the consequent retreat of multilateralism, and the intensifying power struggles among the Council’s permanent members (China, France, Russia, the UK and the US) — each wielding a veto power — there is little prospect that this will happen.

This is where the location of Kutupalong is decisive for the pursuit of justice.

Unlike Myanmar, Bangladesh is a party to the ICC Statute. Thus, there it falls under ICC jurisdiction if crimes against humanity have been committed on the territory of Bangladesh. Some creative lawyering led to the conclusion that although the underlying crimes of murder, torture, rape, and wanton destruction of towns and villages occurred on the territory of Myanmar, the mass-expulsion of the Rohingya across the boundary with Bangladesh through these coercive acts qualified as the crime of “deportation,” which was in fact completed on the territory of Bangladesh. Kutupalong is not only the most significant source of witness testimony for a potential investigation; its very existence is a basis for the court’s jurisdiction, at least over some if not all of the crimes.

In fact, Myanmar’s pretext for mass-expulsion has been that the Rohingya are in fact “illegal” Bengali immigrants rather than nationals of Myanmar. Thus, in April of this year, ICC Prosecutor Fatou Bensouda made an unusual request to a pre-trial chamber, asking for an opinion as to whether the court had jurisdiction over the crime of deportation based on the territory of Bangladesh. On September 6, a decision was rendered, declaring that the court did in fact have jurisdiction over deportation (and related crimes) based on the territory of Bangladesh, and calling for an expeditious preliminary examination of the evidence with a view to an investigation.

The House of Commons’ motion welcomes this decision, which may be the only viable option given the likely failure of the UN Security Council to make a Chapter VII referral. Meanwhile, following the decision, the ICC prosecutor has declared her intention to conduct a “preliminary examination” as a prelude to a formal investigation. Given the resource constraints and problems of efficiency faced by her office, perhaps the Government of Canada should consider contributing investigative resources to expedite what could otherwise be a prolonged and time-consuming process.

It may be tempting for the cynic to dismiss these efforts as purely symbolic and ineffective. Nobody would disagree that it is far from an ideal situation where the perpetrators could be promptly arrested and prosecuted. It is noteworthy however, that Myanmar has gone to great lengths to challenge the court’s jurisdiction, issuing press statements resembling a legal brief, and even seeking to make surreptitious submissions to the court through front non-governmental organizations seeking to demonize the Rohingya as “terrorists.” There have also been official statements to the effect that Myanmar’s willingness to repatriate refugees is inconsistent with a policy of “ethnic cleansing.” It is notable that beyond deportation, the ICC decision also includes denial of the right of return of refugees as an additional crime against humanity, also based on the territory of Bangladesh. Surely, Myanmar leadership is aware that even if arrest warrants cannot be executed on its territory, the indictment of the most senior ranks of the Tatmadaw for crimes against humanity will be a significant long-term liability.

To make matters worse for Myanmar, a UN independent fact-finding mission concluded in late August not only that the crimes against the Rohingya constituted genocide, but also that six senior Tatmadaw officials were suspects. This includes the commander-in-chief of the Myanmar armed forces, Senior-General Min Aung Hlaing, and the former commander of the western region, Major-General Maung Maung Soe, who is also subject to targeted sanctions under Canada’s Special Economic Measures Act, in addition to similar EU and US lists. In fact, his recent dismissal has led to speculation that it may be linked with his international stigmatization and Myanmar’s pariah status.

It remains to be seen whether and how such naming and shaming, combined with the ICC process, will impact Myanmar’s behaviour, especially if it achieves any degree of deterrence against the “ethnic cleansing” of the up to half million Rohingya that remain in the country, or the prospects, however unlikely, of the voluntary repatriation of at least some proportion of the refugees in Kutupalong. But we owe it to the survivors in Kutupalong to at least try and do what is feasible.

Hannah Arendt famously said of the 1946 Nuremberg judgment that the crimes of the Nazis “explode the limits of the law;” that for genocide, no punishment is enough. Yet, despite the enormity of the crimes against the Rohingya, it would seem that some justice is better than no justice at all, and it remains to be seen what effect historical truth and the vindication of international law will have on the future of this tormented people.

As I read the decision of the court establishing its jurisdiction, anticipating an investigation and arrest warrants in the coming months, and two weeks later, the House of Commons’ motion, I wondered what this would all mean to those back in Kutupalong. Was it at least a ray of hope for future generations, a small redemption of the humanity of those who, robbed of everything they once had, can only hope to reclaim a semblance of their dignity? My mind wandered back to a striking image upon my arrival at the camp. There, amidst the misery and squalor, was a surreal sight, a tower of joy: children on a makeshift wooden carousel, circling in bliss, touching the sky, dreaming of other worlds.

Kutupalong refugee camp. Photo by Yousuf Tushar.


The comments in this article are only those of the author in his personal capacity and do not necessarily represent the view of either the ICC or the Bangladesh government.



Who’s Afraid of the International Criminal Court?

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By Eleanor Beevor | Al Bawaba News

US National Security Adviser John Bolton listens as President Donald Trump (not seen) speaks on April 13, 2018 at the White House in Washington, DC. (Photo by AFP)


23 September 2018 – The anniversary of September 11th might seem like an odd time for the United States to choose to slam institutions championing international cooperation and justice. But John Bolton did it. President Trump’s National Security Adviser told an audience at the Federalist Society in Washington DC:

“We will not cooperate with the ICC. We will provide no assistance to the ICC. We will not join the ICC. We will let the ICC die on its own. After all, for all intents and purposes, the ICC is already dead to us…

If the court comes after us, Israel or other US allies, we will not sit quietly. We will respond against the ICC and its personnel to the extent permitted by US law. We will ban its judges and prosecutors from entering the United States. We will sanction their funds in the US financial system, and we will prosecute them in the US criminal system. We will do the same for any company or state that assists an ICC investigation of Americans.”

Apparently, his speech was in reaction to the news that the International Criminal Court’s (ICC) Pre-Trial Chamber would soon decide whether or not to investigate suspected war crimes in Afghanistan.

Bolton’s anger toward the court is ideological. He has an anarchic view of the international arena, and sees international legal restrictions as infringing on American sovereignty. He is especially angered by the fact that the ICC is, in theory, able to investigate and charge American citizens with war crimes, despite the fact that America “unsigned” itself from being party to the court’s founding treaty, the Rome Statute.

The ICC was always going to present moral conundrums. It was set up with the aim of prosecuting the most extreme war crimes and crimes against humanity. It is supposed to level the playing field in places where civilians have fallen prey to a predatory state that would purposely deny them justice, or when the state cannot deliver justice on its own.

States can request the ICC to investigate crimes in their territory on their behalf. The United Nations Security Council can authorise an ICC investigation. Or, the ICC can begin an investigation itself, so long as the Chief Prosecutor and a team of judges in the Pre-Trial Chamber both authorise it. Before they do this, they need to have robust evidence that war crimes, genocide or crimes against humanity were likely committed. And they need evidence that justice has still not been properly served by the countries in question.

What’s interesting about Bolton’s speech is that he makes the ICC out to be an unstoppable, unconstrained power, and a serious threat to American servicemen, who might be arbitrarily prosecuted at any moment for doing their jobs. He said that the ICC paves the way for anti-American “political trials”.

Not all Bolton’s points about the ICC are overblown. He rails against American citizens being subject to a judiciary that neither they nor their government elected to be a part of – a legitimate line of moral argument. However, to imply that the ICC can subvert American interests or foreign policy is a huge overstatement of the court’s capabilities.

The ICC cannot prosecute countries or institutions, only individuals. True, in some cases it has gone after heads of state. But any case against America would in all likelihood centre on the actions of individual American soldiers. Whether or not the ICC should be able to try them is a matter of opinion, but their conviction would hardly be an existential threat to American power. Even if an investigation into war crimes in Afghanistan were to be opened, there is no guarantee it would sweep up American soldiers. Sergey Vasiliev, a Professor of International Criminal Law at the University of Leiden told Al Bawaba:

“For the first cases in Afghanistan, the Prosecutor is highly likely to concentrate on actors other than US forces, as a matter of strategy. I do not exclude that this Prosecutor (or her successor) might also eventually decide to prosecute members of US military, even though this will be more of a symbolic gesture because the execution of arrest warrants would pose serious problems lacking cooperation by the US and all countries which pledged not to surrender US citizens to the ICC pursuant to bilateral agreements. But, as matters stand, I do expect a handful of cases involving mid-level non-US figures being brought in the next few years – if and after the judges give the green light to investigate.”

Bolton’s suggestion that the ICC could pursue a “political trial” against the United States as and when it liked is also clearly false. One can make many criticisms of the ICC, but it cannot be said that they take decisions lightly. For context, the preliminary investigation into Afghanistan has gone on for over a decade. This is not an official investigation – it is the groundwork to determine whether or not there is enough evidence of relevant crimes, and a lack of alternative justice, to merit starting an investigation. And the nature of the ICC’s work means that they can expect political backlash every time they open a new case.

To put it another way, unless there was practically watertight evidence that at least some individuals had committed war crimes, it is highly unlikely that the ICC would risk investigating.

Hence came a November 2017 announcement from ICC Chief Prosecutor Fatou Bensouda that there was a “reasonable basis to believe war crimes and crimes against humanity were committed in Afghanistan and that all sides in the conflict would be examined including members of the US armed forces and Central Intelligence Agency”.

On this basis, she asked the team of Pre-Trial Chamber judges to authorise an investigation into war crimes in Afghanistan. Their answer is still pending. Sergey Vasiliev added:

“The Prosecutor’s request has been pending before the Chamber for 10 months now. This is a very long period for the Court, which has given rise to speculations about the reasons for this delay. Rumours have circulated for a while that the judicial decision was imminent, but it may well turn out to be the case this time.”

It is the anticipation of this announcement that seems to have prompted Bolton’s diatribe, along with the extraordinary threats to sanction the ICC and subject its staff to American criminal justice. The question is whether these threats will deter an investigation into Afghanistan. It is rather unlikely that Bolton’s threats will make much difference, for it would do the ICC far more harm than good to be seen to acquiesce to his threats.

Amanda Ghahremani, an international criminal lawyer and the Director of the Canadian Centre for International Justice told Al Bawaba:

“It is highly unlikely that the ICC would capitulate to such pressures by the U.S. administation, because the Court could be perceived as lacking independence and impartiality. In light of the circumstances, the Court will likely have to make a decision soon on the situation of Afghanistan, and if it chooses not to proceed with a formal investigation, it will have to provide very clear and legally sound reasons for not pursuing an investigation to avoid being perceived as succumbing to political pressure.”

The ICC’s dilemma is that it has to be seen to go after the powerful to be credible, and so succeed in deterring future war crimes. But the powerful are very determined to prevent the ICC doing just that. One of the most hypocritical moments of Bolton’s speech was when he repeated the criticism that the ICC’s focus has overwhelmingly been on Africa.

It is perfectly, and troublingly true that ten out of eleven of the ICC’s current investigations are in Africa, and this prompted plenty of skepticism that the court was indeed – as Bolton put it – “…just the latest European neocolonial enterprise to infringe upon their sovereign rights”. The court’s excessive focus on Africa is legitimate criticism, but Bolton – a pathological advocate of American military intervention abroad – is hardly a credible defender of other nations’ sovereignty. Least not when, in the same speech, he mockingly included the Democratic Republic of the Congo as one of the nations that could have a say over the ICC’s influence in American affairs.

CC Chief Prosecutor Fatou Bensouda (ICC Website)

But more to the point, Bolton has been one of the most active figures in preventing the ICC expanding its remit beyond Africa. The grim reason that the ICC’s open caseload is so Africa-focused is because that is where it encounters the least resistance from major global powers. But – justifiably – this has dented the court’s claim to impartiality. The only way it can win back that claim is by opening a case closer to the heart of the powers on the UN Security Council. Investigating war crimes in Afghanistan – including alleged abuse of Afghan detainees by American forces – would silence the court’s doubters.

And ironically, Bolton’s threats will probably enhance support for the ICC’s pursuit of the case. Mark Kersten, a Fellow at the University of Toronto and an expert on the ICC told Al Bawaba:

“The ironic thing about Bolton’s speech is that he has made the Court out to be a genuine threat to global powers when many people criticize precisely for not challenging such powers. As a result, Bolton may have inadvertently lent the ICC credibility at a time when the institution is facing a number of challenges.”

There is no telling whether the Trump administration would actually allow Bolton to follow through on his threats. On the one hand, President Trump has pulled out of a number of international agreements and rocked age-old alliances for the sake of partisan gesturing before. On the other hand, Trump may conclude that the uproar and the legal ramifications of following through with these threats is not worth indulging Bolton’s obsession for, particularly when there is no clear national security benefit. Sergey Vasiliev added:

“The combination of Trump and Bolton might actually a winning combination for the ICC. Such a bellicose speech by someone who is widely seen as the ICC’s old arch-enemy with a personal, lifetime mission to undermine the Court, enables the Court to refill its political capital which got depleted somewhat in the past years due to conflictual relations with African states. A wider political support and commitment to the Court can reinvigorate it for bolder action than what it would have afforded otherwise – even if it is not likely to yield results in terms of arrests and trials of any US citizens.”

The ICC wants to be feared by those who might commit the worst of war’s crimes. Up until now, it’s been seriously lacking that credibility. John Bolton just gave it to them.


A plan for South Africa to stay in the ICC

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By Navi Pillay, Richard Goldstone, and Mark Kersten | Mail & Guardian

Almost two years after first announcing its intention to withdraw from the International Criminal Court (ICC), it remains unclear whether South Africa will exit the Rome Statute system.

Last December, Justice Minister Michael Masutha told a meeting of ICC member-states that the country was forging ahead with withdrawal. A few weeks ago, however, Minister of International Relations and Cooperation Lindiwe Sisulu insisted that no final decision had been made. In the meantime, Jacob Zuma has been replaced by Cyril Ramaphosa as South African President.

The issue at hand is whether parliament will pass legislation that could open the doors for the executive to eventually withdraw the country from the Rome Statute of the ICC. There is, however, more than just a sliver of hope that South Africa could find a graceful exit from any plan to withdraw from the Court.

At a recent event held by the Africa Group for Justice and Accountability and organised by the Wayamo Foundation in Cape Town, Minister Masutha stated that the International Crimes Bill – the first required for an ICC withdrawal – would soon be debated in Parliament. Critically, he stressed that parliamentarians would take into account developments relevant to South Africa’s concerns with the Court.

Masutha was specifically referring to two issues relating to the question of head of state immunity before the ICC: first, ongoing proceedings at the Court over Jordan’s 2017 decision to host Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir, who has been indicted by the ICC on charges of war crimes, crimes against humanity and genocide in Darfur; and, second, the decision by the African Union to seek an advisory opinion from the International Court of Justice (ICJ) on the status of head of state immunity under international law.

These yet-to-be-resolved developments are important because they are likely to address the key concerns that South Africa has with the ICC. According to proponents of withdrawal in Pretoria, South Africa cannot remain a member of the Court because it creates conflicting obligations for the government, between, on the one hand, fulfilling its duties under the Rome Statute and surrendering the likes of Bashir to the ICC; and on the other, meeting its obligations to fellow governments and international organisations such as the African Union to protect head of state immunity. This quandary, South Africa insists, makes it impossible to play mediator and peacemaker during negotiations to end violent political conflicts.

This leads to numerous questions: Why would South Africa rush towards an ICC exit before its core concerns are resolved? Why not wait until there is greater clarity and perhaps even compromise on the issue of head of state immunity before throwing in the towel, exiting the ICC, and therefore having no say in the Court’s future development?

Given a confluence of factors, including Ramaphosa’s internationalist credentials, a dissipated sense of urgency to withdraw from the ICC among African states, and a belief that the Court and its proponents are genuinely listening to African criticisms of the ICC, some believe that South Africa will remain a member of the Court. What isn’t clear is how it will do so.

Ideally, the government would renounce its plans to end its membership in the ICC outright. But we recognise that finding a graceful exit – and saving face – is politically important for any government or political party.

As proposed in a previous article, the government could save face by allowing a free vote in parliament on the International Crimes Bill, whilst publicly encouraging parliamentarians to vote it down and support membership in the ICC. This would help guarantee a powerful, emphatic, and democratic decision in favour of ICC membership.

Another possibility would be to declare that, until the Jordan proceedings are concluded and an ICJ advisory opinion on head of state immunity is issued, any withdrawal plans should be put on hold.

Such a moratorium would help to buy time for the South African government to work productively to improve and reform the ICC from within, alongside other African and interested states. It would also promote the creation of space for increased and constructive dialogue between critics and proponents of the Court. Sometimes taking a breather is all it takes for cooler heads to prevail.

Should the government put a moratorium on any move to withdraw from the ICC, it would likely result in the current International Crimes Bill being put on hold. While it is preferable for the government to declare its support and commitment to the Court, this would at least preserve South Africa’s membership until a new parliament is in place following next year’s polls. The elections would be a fruitful place to renew a conversation between parties and within communities about South Africa’s trajectory as a global leader in international relations and global justice.

The very heart of South Africa’s concerns with the ICC – the status of head of state immunity under international law – is being debated, and will continue to be debated, at the highest levels and in the highest courts. While the government has spelled out its reasons for ICC withdrawal, not being heard or taken seriously cannot be among them.

Navi Pillay is the former UN High Commissioner for Human Rights and a member of the Africa Group for Justice and Accountability.

Richard Goldstone is a retired Constitutional Court judge and a member of the Africa Group for Justice and Accountability.

Mark Kersten is the Deputy Director of the Wayamo Foundation and a fellow and lecturer at the Munk School of Global Affairs, University of Toronto.



Edmonton man appeals extradition to U.S. on terrorism charges

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By Andrea Huncar | CBC News

Abdullahi Ahmed Abdullahi’s lawyer filed a notice of appeal on June 27. (Court exhibit)


A Canadian man accused of providing financial support to his Edmonton cousins who joined ISIS is appealing his extradition order to the United States to face terrorism charges.

Abdullahi Ahmed Abdullahi, 33, was committed for extradition by Court of Queen’s Bench Justice John Little on May 31.

He has since filed a notice of appeal through his lawyer. No date has been set for the case to go before a panel of three justices with the Court of Appeal of Alberta.

Abdullahi’s appeal comes as a group of legal and human rights experts convene next month to review and propose reforms to the Extradition Act, which critics say provides little protection to Canadian citizens sought by foreign governments.

The conference is being organized by Robert Currie, a professor of law at Dalhousie University in Nova Scotia, and a long-time critic of the extradition process in Canada, where high extradition rates plus a high-profile case involving Ottawa professor Hassan Diab have spurred calls for reform.

Over the past decade, about 90 per cent of the people who were arrested for extradition in Canada were surrendered.

“As soon as you’re requested for extradition your goose is pretty much cooked,” Currie told CBC News. “It’s nearly impossible for the individual who’s being sought for extradition to challenge the evidence offered by the requesting state, in particular because they don’t have to present the evidence itself.”

Professor Robert Currie is fighting to reform Canada’s extradition laws.


Judge “erred in law”

In the notice of appeal filed June 27, Abdullahi’s defence lawyer Akram Attia cited four grounds where he said the Queen’s Bench justice “erred in law” related to the Record of the Case (ROC), which summarizes the U.S. government’s evidence.

Under the Extradition Act, the evidence itself — such as witnesses or records — is not required during an extradition committal hearing. A foreign prosecutor only needs to certify that it will be available at the time of trial.

The justice’s role is not to determine guilt or innocence but only whether the alleged conduct, had it occurred in Canada, would justify going to trial.

But Attia argued the justice erroneously concluded that all the evidence was admissible, “not manifestly unreliable” and “not deliberately vague.” He said Little made a mistake when he ruled a jury would have all the evidence it needed to find Abdullahi guilty.

Attia argued that much of the witness evidence relied on hearsay, or even “double hearsay,” from people who later travelled to Syria and died.

“Obviously, the evidence of deceased persons is not available for trial,” he wrote.

In March 2017, a grand jury in the Southern District of California indicted Abdullahi on conspiring to provide and providing material support to ISIS recruits in the U.S. and Turkey between August 2013 and November 2014.

Abdullahi has been in custody since his arrest in Fort McMurray in September 2017.

Foreign fighters named in the indictment include three of Abdullahi’s cousins — Mahad Hirsi and brothers Hamsa and Hersi Kariye.

The trio left Edmonton for Syria in November 2013, where it’s believed they were killed in an airstrike the following year, along with another cousin from Minneapolis.

During the hearing in May, Crown prosecutors Stacey Dej and Kanchana Fernando presented the ROC on behalf of an assistant U.S. attorney from San Diego, where Abdullahi and the Kariye brothers once lived before moving to Edmonton sometime around 2009.

Abdullahi is accused of robbing an Edmonton jewelry store in January 2014 to help fund relatives and friends, including the late Douglas McCain, a friend who left San Diego for Syria two months later.

In May, court heard McCain’s widow would testify that her husband told her Abdullahi sent him $3,000 (US) via Western Union.

The ROC document said records also exist showing money transfers from Abdullahi to his cousins in the U.S. and Turkey, followed by the purchase of airline tickets.

Another witness — a younger cousin and former alleged co-conspirator from Minneapolis — identified Abdullahi as one of the robbery suspects in surveillance video, prosecutors said. A preliminary hearing on charges of theft is scheduled to begin in Edmonton on Aug. 9.

There are also allegedly records of draft emails written by the group in a common account to communicate, in code using sports analogies and nicknames, about battles and logistics.

Court heard the two witnesses would decode and identify emails from Abdullahi, who went by the name Phish, and that he allegedly informed the group of money transfers and difficulties pawning off the jewelry.

“No reliable evidence”

But in his May submission, Attia argued the evidence did not establish whether Abdullahi had “knowingly” facilitated terrorist activity, although the judge disagreed.

“There is no reliable evidence respecting Mr. Abdullahi’s knowledge that the money he is said to have sent to Douglas and others was to be used to travel to Syria to join ISIS,” Attia’s submission states. “The evidence that is contained in the ROC respecting the mens rea requirement of the offence is either ‘manifestly unreliable’ or unavailable for trial.”

Attia said the ability of the witnesses to decode the draft emails and identify the anonymous authors was not reliable either.

His submission cited a key 2006 decision known as Ferras where the Supreme Court ruled that a judge was constitutionally required to meaningfully evaluate whether the requesting country’s case justified extradition.

Attia also argued the evidence of witnesses was “self-serving” and the ROC was “deliberately vague,” making it difficult to defend. But Little concluded “this is an argument to be made at trial.”

“The government’s not going to help you”

In 1999, Jean Chretien’s Liberal government overhauled Canada’s Extradition Act that had been in place since 1877.

Currie said prior to that, the process was inefficient, slow-moving and a requesting state had to assemble the evidence and present its case.

But changes that have made it easier for states seeking extradition have made it “nearly inevitable,” said Currie.

“When the requesting state presents this record of the case it’s impossible to get underneath it in practical terms, unless you have unique knowledge about what’s going on back in the requesting state or unless you have a lot of money to hire investigators to assemble your own case,” said Currie. “Because the government’s not going to help you.”

Currie said it’s important that dangerous criminals are extradited to be tried in a timely manner. But the right balance is needed to uphold the rights of Canadian citizens, he added.

Last month, Justice Minister Jody Wilson-Raybould asked the former deputy attorney general of Ontario, Murray Segal, to conduct an external review of the extradition of Diab, following calls for reform after the professor’s extradition to France for a 1980 bombing.

Diab was kept in near-solitary confinement for more three years but never charged. French judges dropped his case due to lack of evidence. His lawyer said Diab plans to boycott the review because the scope is too narrow.

While Segal was not asked to review Canada’s extradition laws overall, a federal government spokesperson said the government is open to feedback.

“The government remains open to hearing from Canadians on ways to improve our justice system, including extradition,” wrote Ian McLeod, a spokesperson with the justice department.

He said Wilson-Raybould’s deadline to decide on surrendering Abdullahi for extradition is Nov.15.