
From the
Chair
The Constitution has
not greatly bothered any wartime President.
—
Francis Biddle
In Brief Authority
Mark David Agrast
As I was preparing
this column, I learned of the death of Eugene V. Rostow, an eminent
statesman and dean of the Yale Law School, with whom I had the privilege
of studying in the mid-1980s. Professor Rostow spent most of his career
engaged with issues of war and peace. In 1945 he penned a powerful and
justly famous article excoriating the Supreme Court for upholding the
wartime internment of Americans of Japanese descent. I will return to
that article shortly, because it has much to say of relevance to our
present situation.
A
collection of essays on the laws of war must somehow get around the
ancient Roman maxim “inter arma silent leges”: in time of war,
the laws are silent. Taken literally, this suggests that there is little
to be said on the subject. Or the less said the better. In fact, the
proverb lends itself to a number of less frivolous interpretations,
each of which holds profound implications for individual rights and
the rule of law. Thus, we might say the laws are silent because there
are too few enforceable norms that regulate armed conflict—or too few
warring nations that are willing to submit to them. Or because the courts,
the Congress, and other civil authorities are reluctant to challenge
the actions of those charged with waging war. Or all of the above.
To
some, the very phrase “laws of war” may seem a contradiction in terms.
What is war, after all, but a suspension of the normal rules that constrain
aggression? Indeed, as Telford Taylor wrote in Nuremberg and Vietnam:
An American Tragedy, “War consists largely of acts that would be
criminal if performed in time of peace.”
Yet,
over the past two centuries, the advent of modern warfare has gradually
given rise to a body of customary international law regulating the treatment
of civilian noncombatants and prisoners of war, proscribing the aggressive
use of force, and placing limits on the means by which even defensive
war may be waged. The codification of these rules through the Geneva
Conventions, the UN Charter, and other international agreements, and
the establishment of international courts to enforce them, have created
a legal framework for distinguishing lawful combat from crimes of war.
But
customary norms of international law depend for their legitimacy upon
the willingness of state actors to be bound by them. When, for example,
the world’s sole remaining superpower engages in armed action without
seeking UN authorization, it contributes to the erosion of the Charter’s
prohibition on the unilateral use of force. Indeed, the tendency of
U.S. governments to act in this manner has recently caused some authorities
to question whether the prohibition can still be said to be a valid
source of customary international law. See, e.g., Michael J.
Glennon, How War Left the Law Behind, N.Y.
Times, Nov. 21, 2002, at A37.
Arguably,
the U.S. refusal to ratify such measures as the Rome Statute establishing
the International Criminal Court (long supported by the Section and
the American Bar Association) and the Ottawa Treaty on the use of antipersonnel
landmines has slowed or prevented the emergence of other customary norms
that might “speak” in time of war.
Whether
the law will be silent here at home remains an open question. For 200
years, the Bill of Rights has withstood the efforts of wartime governments
to curtail civil liberties—efforts in which the judiciary has all too
frequently acquiesced. The current campaign against terrorism has presented
the courts with novel challenges—measures that some have described as
a “parallel legal system” lacking customary protections for the accused.
Novel
challenges, certainly, but not unprecedented. Half a century ago, Dean
Rostow described the World War II internment policy as “a system . .
. for . . . indefinite confinement and detention . . . without charges
or trial, without term, and without visible promise of relief,” and
portrayed the Court as “a bench of sedentary civilians . . . reluctant
to overrule the military decision of those charged with carrying on
the war.” Eugene V. Rostow, The Japanese American Cases—A
Disaster, 54 Yale L.J. 489, 502 (1945).
Although
I do not equate the current antiterrorism measures with the World War
II internments, the two situations have important points in common.
First, in each case, the government claimed sweeping authority to detain,
without charge, without trial, and without term, individuals lawfully
present in the United States, many or most of whom were singled out
because of their national origin or ethnic heritage. Second, the government
argued that the courts should uphold the exercise of that authority
based solely on the ipse dixit of a government official, without
undertaking any independent review.
It
was the Court’s failure to conduct a meaningful review that Dean Rostow
identified as its chief failing in the Japanese cases: “Unless the courts
require a showing, in cases like these, of an intelligible relationship
between means and ends, society has lost its basic protection against
the abuse of military power.” Rostow at 516.
This is surely what the rule of law should mean in time
of war. Far better for the law to be silent than for the courts to give
such measures their imprimatur without adequate review. Should they
do so, they will be guilty—as was the Court in Korematsu—of converting
“a piece of war-time folly into political doctrine, and a permanent
part of the law.” Rostow at 491.
Midyear Meeting Note
The
Section has devoted considerable energy to ensuring that the American
Bar Association responds thoughtfully and forthrightly to these challenges.
During the past year we played a major role in the development of policies
on indefinite detention and the use of military tribunals. At the 2003
Midyear Meeting in Seattle, we will propose further policies on the
treatment of “enemy combatants” and the expanded use of electronic surveillance
of U.S. persons under the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act. We
will also sponsor a program on “Bringing Saddam Hussein to Justice:
Examining the Law of War Crimes,” on Friday, February 6, 2003, from
4:00 p.m. to 5:30 p.m. at the Westin Seattle Hotel. I hope you will
join us.