I. INTRODUCTION
How should we read the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea [UNCLOS], and what role should history play in that reading? The contention of this paper is that interpreting the Convention often involves taking sides in debates, still unresolved, conducted at the time of its drafting. The approach taken by the Arbitral Tribunal in the South China Sea case directly raises this question of history in its approach to two issues. First, regarding the UNCLOS dispute settlement system, how compulsory and comprehensive was it intended to be? Second, as to the regime of islands, who was intended to benefit from that regime? In each case our answer on the question of history may affect the answer as a question of law.
The job of an international lawyer in interpreting a treaty is to give effect to the intention of the parties, and the best evidence of that intention is the text actually concluded. However, in a complex text like UNCLOS “the price of consensus has [often] been ambiguity on … crucial issues”;Footnote 1 and one may fairly consider some of its provisions “a disagreement reduced to writing”.Footnote 2 It is thus tempting to interpret specific provisions in the light of generalizations about what the drafters intended. Positing a collective intention of the drafters that existed prior to the text of UNCLOS is clearly artificial. It has no more historic reality than “the intention of the legislator” in a domestic parliamentary context. Indeed, it has rather less: in parliamentary systems the intention of a party in power may be relatively transparent. Notoriously, the “package deal” nature of UNCLOS and the consensus nature of decision-making during the negotiations made highly complex trade-offs between various parts of the Convention possible. As a consequence of this process, the Convention can indeed be viewed as written “by the disembodied hand of the international legislator, his hand pushed this way and that by the pressures of debate, interests, power”.Footnote 3 However, when examining the complex result of such a collectivist mode of drafting, to speak of the “intention of the drafters” is largely to speak of either the conclusion of our own processes of legal analysis or our presuppositions.
Obviously, legitimate differences of interpretation may arise from the application of complex or ambiguous language to complex or ambiguous facts. What I wish to suggest here is that in interpreting or applying UNCLOS we frequently adopt an attitude towards the history of the Convention which colours our interpretation of the purpose of any particular provision. This matters. As Benedict Kingsbury suggests, the supposedly unitary rules of treaty interpretation are deceptive.Footnote 4 Treaties are often, or usually, interpreted within a particular institutional setting in which there will be received wisdoms about a treaty’s history and original purpose. The way the broad rules of treaty interpretation are applied in a given institutional framework, such as UNCLOS, has much to do with the existence of a common community of practice surrounding the treaty. This community may include government officials, judges, arbitrators, litigators, and academics. Any judgment or award in international law speaks not only to the parties to proceedings or the international community in general, but often to a specific professional community of lawyers and practitioners involved in the interpretation and application of a particular treaty. Moreover, it may constitute an intervention in a set of shared understandings within that community about the treaty’s history and purpose.
Much of what seems radical about the South China Sea award is that it explicitly foregrounds a very different set of interpretative assumptions than those prevailing in the English language literature on UNCLOS, a literature which tends to be unsurprisingly supportive of the views of major coastal states and naval powers. In relation to both the scope of the dispute settlement system and the application of the regime of islands, the Arbitral Tribunal’s different understanding of the history of the Convention results in different conclusions regarding what its drafters intended.
II. THE SCOPE OF DISPUTE SETTLEMENT PROCEDURES UNDER UNCLOS
Traditional criticisms of the dispute settlement system created under Part XV of UNCLOS include the idea that the “broad range of ocean disputes” excluded from the scope of Part XV renders the system very (possibly unduly) narrow.Footnote 5 The South China Sea case (among other recent cases) has dented this conventional wisdom: that this system is narrow in scope and was always intended to be so. This view, grounded in a particular reading of the Convention, has coloured scholarly interpretations of UNCLOS and tends to occlude the history of its negotiation. The South China Sea case puts that question back in focus. That is: What use can be made of the history of UNCLOS negotiations in interpreting the Convention, and how should that history be understood? The question goes further than the strict role of travaux préparatoires in the interpretation of a treaty;Footnote 6 it goes to the presumptions one brings to reading those travaux. My suggestion is that the usual accounts of UNCLOS’s drafting note only in passing the divergent interests that had to be reconciled in producing the Convention’s grand compromise. Such histories effectively minimize the role played by collectivist thinking inspired by the New International Economic Order [NIEO].Footnote 7 Indeed, it seems widely forgotten in many treatises in English that the negotiation of UNCLOS was “the central stage upon which [the] challenges” of the NIEO to traditional approaches to international law were “explicitly articulated”.Footnote 8 There is not space here to recapitulate the objectives or ideology of the NIEO, or its internal debates. It is enough to recall that the NIEO involved an effort by states in the global South to call for a more equitable and distributively just international order, including allocating the beneficial use of the “currently available and potentially exploitable resources of the oceans”.Footnote 9 While the NIEO is strongly associated with efforts in UNCLOS negotiations to put the deep sea bed under international supervision as part of the common heritage of mankind, provisions referring to the special position or needs of developing states suffuse the Convention. The weight one gives to these political struggles over the future direction of the law of the sea inevitably colours the legal interpretation one adopts. Bluntly: Did the NIEO fail and leave no effective mark on the Convention beyond aspirational statements, or were its influences more profound?
In the case of UNCLOS dispute settlement two extremes could be posited. A narrow, “sovereigntist” or “contractual” reading could commence by noting the seemingly extensive exceptions to the compulsory procedures found in Part XV(3), and conclude that: (1) the entire system was designed to be less than comprehensive; and (2) one should therefore construe the applicability of the system as a whole narrowly, in order not to exceed the bargain struck. Such a view is compatible with both a certain type of traditional doctrinal positivism and theories of states as rational choice actors uninterested in fettering their sovereign discretion.Footnote 10
A “communitarian” approach to Part XV more generally might begin from the view that the negotiation of UNCLOS as a package deal and largely by consensus resulted in a legislative instrument, in the sense that it resulted from a process through which the general will of the international community was articulated and “the whole people decree[d] for the whole people”.Footnote 11 Such a reading could start from the proposition that the founding principle of the Part XV system is that it is intended to be both comprehensive and compulsory in order to uphold and maintain the integrity of the Convention package deal as a whole. On this approach, the exceptions both to subject-matter jurisdiction and procedural recourse to compulsory dispute settlement procedures should be construed narrowly in order to protect the integrity of the Convention. Supporters of such a view typically quote the well-known statement of the President of the Conference, Ambassador Amerasinghe, that “[d]ispute settlement procedures will be the pivot upon which the delicate equilibrium of the compromise [reached] must be balanced”.Footnote 12
In practice most English-language approaches to interpreting the Convention show traces of both approaches, but tend to the “sovereigntist” end of the spectrum. The tension is usually reconciled by suggesting that the limited collectivist function of the dispute settlement procedures is to hold sovereign State Parties to the contractual bargain they have made. In practice such a conclusion obscures the very different stake different states (and categories of states) may have in such a system. This point is returned to below.
A not unrepresentative assessment of the early case-law decided under Part XV UNCLOS was: “[e]ven accepting that UNCLOS compulsory dispute settlement regime was never intended to be comprehensive, it has proved to be even more circumscribed in scope than perhaps even its detractors imagined”.Footnote 13 This squares with the usual account in textbooks and treatises that the complex and exception-ridden UNCLOS dispute settlement system simply reflected “the political reality of what States were willing to surrender to third-party process”.Footnote 14 The drafters consciously chose, on such an account, not to establish “a comprehensive dispute settlement system”.Footnote 15 This conclusion rests in part on obscuring the strong divisions of views in the treaty drafting process: the language chosen suggests that “states” commonly and collectively “intended” an outcome that reflected “political reality”; it also tends to conceal that the prevailing political reality was itself contested. There is a further risk that such a conclusion may shade over from a simple, contestable textual observation about the exceptions in Part XV(3) (which are substantial) to a presumption about how to interpret Part XV generally based either on what the parties are assumed to have intended or what, indeed, the “political reality” was.
That is, as outlined above, the “sovereigntist” approach supports a presumption either against compulsory dispute settlement, or at least in favour of interpreting such clauses narrowly. The complex structure of Part XV lends itself to such a reading, with its role for consent-based means of dispute settlement in Part XV(1), a plethora of forums to hear compulsory cases under Part XV(2), complex exclusions to the subject matters subject to compulsory procedures in Part XV(3), its (apparent) deference to dispute settlement procedures contained in other treaties, and the creation of such oddities of international law as compulsory conciliation.Footnote 16 It is easy to conclude that these eclectic mechanisms, with varying degrees of strength according to subject matter, reflects the extent to which “dispute settlement intrudes upon … sovereignty”:
The more comprehensive, mandatory, and binding the form of dispute settlement, the less willing nations will be to submit to its jurisdiction when … too important an aspect of sovereignty [is involved] to risk an unfavourable outcome. Thus, [each] particular form of dispute resolution [in UNCLOS] must be tailored to the problems it is intended to deal with. Otherwise, nations will refuse to utilise the procedures.Footnote 17
Respondent states have certainly taken such a line in litigation. Part of the UK’s argument in response to the claim brought by Mauritius in the Chagos Marine Protected Area Arbitration was that the case was really a “re-cast[ing]” of a dispute about sovereignty under the “guise of a case under UNCLOS” and that this could call “into question the whole system of dispute settlement under the Convention, and with it, the Convention itself”.Footnote 18 Nonetheless, this line of argument presumes a degree of obviousness or automaticity about those issues which will universally be seen as “too important an aspect of sovereignty” to risk independent adjudication.
No such obviousness was apparent in negotiating UNCLOS. A.O. Adede, who chaired the dispute settlement working group, recorded vigorous differences of opinion during the negotiations both as to whether the Convention should contain a compulsory dispute settlement system and, if so, which subject matters it should cover.Footnote 19 Even on questions as sensitive as maritime delimitation there were strong calls for Part XV(2) to apply. Ambassador Padro argued, for example: “[I]t was difficult to credit the good faith of a country in signing a convention if it then refused to allow conflicts about the application of that convention to be settled by some independent organ or authority.”Footnote 20 Indeed, for less powerful states the dispute settlement system was often a sine qua non of their consent to the whole. Kingsbury explains the attraction of including dispute settlement systems in a treaty:
Less powerful states in particular require assurances that the promises of powerful states are credible. … [Winning] a case may provide some bargaining leverage, but they rely much more on the prospect that the court process and eventual decision will help mobilise other major states to put pressure on the powerful [respondent] state in order to maintain the rule-governed system [of international law] and respect for its institutions.Footnote 21
The point of including dispute settlement is not merely about signalling good faith. Rather, small states also know that, even absent enforcement mechanisms, the outcomes of litigation—embodying a change in legal relationship—can set in motion changes in prevailing political realities.Footnote 22
III. THE APPROACH TAKEN IN SOUTH CHINA SEA
On the surface, the approach taken by the Tribunal in South China Sea was straightforwardly formalist. It was entirely unmoved by Chinese objections (expressed in absentia via a position paper) that the “real” dispute was a question of sovereignty over certain maritime features or the delimitation of zones projected from those features.Footnote 23 The Tribunal accepted, as Alan Boyle had long predicted, that a dispute over maritime features could come within UNCLOS Part XV jurisdiction if the question put was one of the status of such features, not sovereignty over them.Footnote 24 In its choice of language the Tribunal emphasized not the Part XV(3) exceptions to jurisdiction but the comprehensive and binding nature of the Part XV dispute settlement system generally. It observed that:
Although the Convention specifies certain limitations and exceptions to the subject matter of the disputes that may be submitted to compulsory settlement, it does not permit other reservations, and a State may not except itself generally from the Convention’s mechanism for the resolution of disputes.Footnote 25
Earlier in its Award on Jurisdiction and Admissibility it had emphasized that the scheme of Part XV is encapsulated in UNCLOS Article 286,Footnote 26 which provides:
Subject to section 3 [on exceptions], any dispute concerning the interpretation or application of this Convention shall, where no settlement has been reached by recourse to section 1 [on preliminary and alternative mechanisms], be submitted at the request of any party to the dispute to the court or tribunal having jurisdiction under this section.
Both statements uphold the binding nature of the dispute settlement system and emphasize, despite its exceptions, the central role of compulsory measures to that system. These may seem merely formal statements: the parties are bound to the agreement they have struck. These statements are remarkable only in the context of previous case-law. Some previous tribunals had, rather than prioritize the centrality of the dispute settlement system, instead maximized the ability of states to opt out of it.
The key “opt out” provision is Article 281(1) UNCLOS which provides that where parties
have agreed to seek settlement of the dispute by a peaceful means of their own choice, the [Part XV(2)] procedures … apply only where no settlement has been reached by recourse to such means and the agreement between the parties does not exclude any further procedure. (emphasis added)
In South China Sea, China claimed that the joint China-ASEAN Declaration on the Conduct of Parties in the South China Sea (the China-ASEAN Declaration) constituted such an agreement on questions of dispute resolution to the exclusion of UNCLOS. This position could draw support from previous case-law. The most obvious case in which Articles 281 was argued and in which an arbitral tribunal found that it lacked jurisdiction on that basis is Southern Bluefin Tuna.Footnote 27 Southern Bluefin Tuna concerned the effect of Article 16 of the Convention for the Conservation of Southern Bluefin Tuna [CCSBT].Footnote 28 Article 16, on its face, emphasized that disputes under the CCSBT would be subject to compulsory procedures only with the consent of all parties to the dispute. It provides:
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(1) If any dispute arises between two or more of the Parties concerning the interpretation or implementation of this Convention, those Parties shall consult among themselves with a view to having the dispute resolved by negotiation, inquiry, mediation, conciliation, arbitration, judicial settlement or other peaceful means of their own choice.
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(2) Any dispute of this character not so resolved shall, with the consent in each case of all Parties to the dispute, be referred for settlement to the International Court of Justice or to arbitration … (emphases added)
In addition, UNCLOS Article 282 provides that where a “procedure that entails a binding decision” applies to a dispute under a “general, regional or bilateral agreement”, that procedure may apply “in lieu” of UNCLOS.
The question in Southern Bluefin Tuna then was whether Article 16 of the CCSBT was an agreement under Article 281 excluding UNCLOS dispute settlement. The majority of the Tribunal held that it was. The Tribunal noted that a significant number of treaties dealing with ocean affairs that post-dated UNCLOS had dispute settlement provisions excluding recourse to compulsory adjudication. It consideredFootnote 29
that the existence of such a body of treaty practice … tends to confirm the conclusion that States Parties to UNCLOS may, by agreement, preclude subjection of their disputes to [compulsory Part XV(2)] procedures in accordance with Article 281(1). To hold [otherwise and prioritize UNCLOS] … would be effectively to deprive of substantial effect the dispute settlement provisions of those implementing agreements which prescribe dispute resolution by means of the parties’ choice.
The Southern Blue Fin Tuna Tribunal thus effectively held
that states may enter into regional agreements with near identical substantive obligations to UNCLOS but with non-binding dispute settlement mechanisms as a means of avoiding the procedural obligations accepted under UNCLOS.Footnote 30
The Southern Blue Fin Tuna Tribunal supported its conclusion that parties to UNCLOS were entitled to opt out of Part XV(2) dispute settlement on the basis that, given Part XV’s numerous exceptions, it “appears to the Tribunal that UNCLOS falls significantly short of establishing a truly comprehensive regime of compulsory jurisdiction entailing binding decisions”.Footnote 31
The approach taken in the South China Sea case, however, appears much stricter and favours a presumption against the ability to opt out of compulsory dispute settlement. The Tribunal in South China Sea emphasized that only a legally binding agreement could have effect under Articles 281 or 282 and showed a clear preference for express language excluding Part XV(2) mechanisms.Footnote 32 In terms of the kind of language which might have such an exclusionary effect under Article 281, it noted that in the China-ASEAN Declaration the parties could have (but had not): undertaken to resolve their disputes “only through friendly consultations and negotiations”; or undertaken “not to submit a dispute to any method of settlement other than negotiations”.Footnote 33 The absence of such language prevented a finding that the Declaration on Conduct was an Article 281 or 282 agreement excluding Part XV(2). More precisely, it noted that only an Article 282 agreement involving an alternative compulsory and binding procedure automatically resulted in a complete opt-out from Part XV(2).Footnote 34 An Article 281 agreement will, after the exhaustion of its own prescribed measures, result in the continued application of Part XV(2) unless it in addition “exclude[s] any further procedure”.Footnote 35
The question is whether such exclusion can be implicit as in Southern Bluefin Tuna; or whether the correct result in that case should have been that unless the parties were able to reach agreement on the measures under CCSBT Article 16(2), UNCLOS dispute settlement procedures continued to apply. On the question of whether an agreement could implicitly exclude recourse to UNCLOS compulsory measures,Footnote 36 the South China Sea Tribunal considered Southern Bluefin Tuna wrongly decided.Footnote 37 It held
that the better view is that Article 281 requires some clear statement of exclusion of further procedures. This is supported by the text and context of Article 281 and by the structure and overall purpose of the Convention …
and later argued:
Requiring express exclusion for Article 281 is also consistent with the overall object and purpose of the Convention as a comprehensive agreement. The drafters of the Convention recalled that “the system for the settlement of disputes must form an integral part and an essential element of the Convention”[.]Footnote 38
The Tribunal in further support of its position quoted Ambassador Amerasinghe, as discussed above. Where Southern Bluefin Tuna prioritized the sovereigntist value of maximizing choice as to means of dispute settlement, South China Sea prioritizes the integrity of the Convention. The two cases exhibit diametrically opposed views as to how comprehensive the Convention’s dispute settlement was intended to be, which reflects a methodological (or historical, or political) choice as to whether one begins with Part XV’s general principles or its exceptions in the effort to interpret it as a whole.
IV. THE PURPOSE OF ISLANDS UNDER UNCLOS: CUI BONO?
This communitarian tendency is equally apparent in the approach of the South China Sea Tribunal to the definition of islands. The longest sustained passage of legal analysis in its final award concerns Article 121 UNCLOS, which sets out the regime of islands. Article 121 notes that an island is “a naturally formed area of land, surrounded by water, which is above water at high tide”.Footnote 39 (“Naturally formed” is important: if islands could be created or legally enlarged through land reclamation perverse incentives would be created.Footnote 40 ) For the Tribunal, the “critical” element is paragraph (3) which provides: “[r]ocks which cannot sustain human habitation or economic life of their own shall have no exclusive economic zone or continental shelf”.Footnote 41
Herein lies the legal significance of categorizing a “naturally formed area of land … above water at high tide”: if it is a rock, it generates a modest territorial sea and contiguous zone; if it is an island, it enjoys a potentially vast resource jurisdiction in the form of the exclusive economic zone [EEZ] and continental shelf regime. The Tribunal finely parsed the meaning to be given to: (1) “rocks”, (2) “cannot”, (3) ‘sustain”, (4) “human habitation”, (5) “or”, and (6) “economic life of their own.”Footnote 42
My focus shall be less on “rocks” than the other elements. The Tribunal indicated that the use of cannot connotes the maritime feature’s capacity to sustain human habitation or economic life “in its natural form”.Footnote 43 Here history has its role:
The fact that a feature is currently not inhabited does not prove that it is uninhabitable. The fact that it has no economic life does not prove that it cannot sustain [one] … [H]istorical evidence of human habitation and economic life … may be relevant for establishing a feature’s capacity …Footnote 44
The Tribunal held sustain had three elements: the provision of essentials, and the ability to do so both over time and to a minimal “proper standard”.Footnote 45 Thus, in context, an island must be able to sustain either a healthy human population over time or some form of non-extractive economic activity.Footnote 46 The Tribunal scrutinized the logic and grammar of the use of “or” before coming to the intuitive conclusion that: “an island that is able to sustain either human habitation or an economic life of its own is entitled to both an exclusive economic zone and a continental shelf.”Footnote 47 However, it swiftly added that the “two concepts are … linked” as “economic activity is carried out by humans” who rarely live “where no economic activity or livelihood is possible”.Footnote 48 Nonetheless, the drafting covers “islands” which may sustain habitation but not economic activity or vice versa; which “may particularly be the case where multiple islands are used in concert to sustain a traditional way of life”.Footnote 49 In this manner, the Tribunal flagged early the idea of a population engaged in a traditional lifestyle sustained by groups of islands. It thus cautioned against overly strict readings of Article 121 which could “deprive … populations … of the resources on which they have traditionally depended”.Footnote 50
As regards the final element, “an economic life of their own”, the Tribunal emphasized:
The “of their own” component … makes clear that a feature itself … must have the ability to support an independent economic life, without relying predominantly on … outside resources or serving purely as an object for extractive activities, without the involvement of a local population.Footnote 51
The next step in the Tribunal’s logic is dense. What makes for such sustainable economic activity? It would be circular to ask if a (hypothetical) EEZ could sustain an independent economic life; such a zone follows from but cannot precede the legal classification of a feature as an island. However, it is not absurd to ask this question of a territorial sea (which may inhere to a mere “rock”), though one must note Article 121(3) “requires a link between the economic life and the feature itself, rather than merely [occurring in] adjacent waters”.Footnote 52 Thus
economic activity in the territorial sea could form part of the economic life of a feature, … [if] linked to the feature itself, whether through a local population or otherwise. Distant fisherman exploiting the territorial sea surrounding a small rock …, however, would not suffice … Nor would an enterprise devoted to extracting the mineral resources of the [adjacent] seabed …Footnote 53
Beyond such conclusions, the Tribunal found it necessary to turn to the object and purpose of the regime of islands, and their relation to the EEZ, in order to interpret Article 121. The sources it draws upon are significant. In relation to Latin American practice it refers to the 1952 Santiago Declaration and the 1970 Montevideo and Lima Declarations; and in African practice it notes the 1972 African States Regional Seminar on the Law of the Sea and the 1973 Addis Ababa Declaration of the Organization of African Unity.Footnote 54 These sources evince a common concern with the ability of littoral populations to benefit from the maritime resources in adjacent waters, and later from the new EEZ. The tribunal noted that such “objectives are also apparent in the positions taken by coastal developing States throughout the negotiations” leading to UNCLOS and were shared by “certain [fisheries-dependant] developed States”.Footnote 55 The Tribunal also relied upon plainly NIEO-inspired language in the Convention’s preamble stating that UNCLOS aims to
contribute to the realization of a just and equitable international economic order which takes into account the interests and needs of mankind as a whole and, in particular, the special interests and needs of developing countries …Footnote 56
The historical conclusion presented here is straightforward: the purpose of the EEZ was primarily to benefit developing states, by giving their populations greater control over the marine resources in adjacent waters. Importantly, the Tribunal characterizes the qualifications built into Article 121(3) as preventing the newly created EEZ regime “from going too far”; Article 121
serves to disable tiny features from unfairly and inequitably generating enormous entitlements to maritime space that would serve not to benefit the local population, but to award a windfall to the (potentially distant) State to have maintained a claim to such a feature.Footnote 57
A distinction is set up here by the Tribunal between deserving local populations (of developing states) which should benefit from an EEZ and undeserving distant seafaring states (great powers and former colonizers) who should not be allocated “windfalls”. Thus the Tribunal could quote Ambassor Koh on the risks of applying a uniform EEZ entitlement to all maritime features: “such an approach would give inequitable benefits to coastal States with small or uninhabited islands scattered over a wide expanse of the ocean.”Footnote 58 Similar remarks made by Latin American delegations during the negotiations are also cited. The conclusion follows that
the human habitation with which the drafters of Article 121(3) were concerned was the habitation by a portion of the population for whose benefit the exclusive economic zone was being introduced. … [Habitation refers to a] settled group or community for whom the feature is a home.Footnote 59
The Tribunal notes that such a community need not be large and that a “few individuals or family groups” or periodic residence “by a nomadic people” could suffice.Footnote 60
Though the Tribunal never seeks to turn the critical “or” into an “and” (thus vacating the “economic life” test), it does seek to narrow its possible interpretations. It does this in several steps. First, through holding that “an economic life of its own” excludes activity which is merely extractive or “focused solely on the waters or seabed of the surrounding territorial sea”.Footnote 61 Second, it notes that the easiest evidence of economic life will usually be stable human inhabitation. Third, it notes the possibilities of a community that is sustained by a collection of maritime features; and the related case of a “population whose … economic life extends across a constellation of maritime features” even if not all are continually inhabited.Footnote 62 This ties back to the earlier discussion of traditional livelihoods the practice of which extends across multiple islands.
The general words of Article 121 thus become quite particular. The purpose of the provision is to benefit certain populations, largely in developing countries though with some concession to fisheries-dependent developed states. If EEZs around islands are to generate “windfalls”, they go to the deserving: paradigmatically, stable pre-existing communities and especially those practising traditional lifestyles. Implicitly and explicitly excluded are distant coastal states maintaining claims to (colonial) uninhabited maritime possessions. The reading is unapologetically one which rehabilitates the positions taken by developing states in UNCLOS negotiations and sees those positions as central to understanding the legislative “general will” enacted in the Convention.
V. CONCLUSION
If history is written by victors, it is telling that most law of the sea texts cover the role of the NIEO in UNCLOS’s drafting only lightly.Footnote 63 The NIEO is usually noted at least in passing, but is generally portrayed as of real significance only to deep sea bed mining. In the end, developed states held out for a radical rewriting of the UNCLOS deep sea bed mining regime, which had been the key NIEO achievement in the Convention, and this was duly done through an implementing agreement. Among textbook authors, only Harris questions the extent to which this development undermined the status of UNCLOS as a “package deal” and rebalanced the Convention to “clearly favour … developed States”.Footnote 64 Otherwise, it is as if such particular defeats for NIEO ideas have consigned their general influence on other areas of the Convention, such as the EEZ, to the dustbin. To the extent South China Sea may seem a shockingly new approach to interpreting UNCLOS it is simply because it makes different and explicit choices about the use of the historical record in interpreting the Convention. UNCLOS cannot be interpreted without reference to genuine political struggles over its drafting, and interpreting ambiguous provisions as if such a contest did not occur risks perpetuating a one-sided understanding of the Convention. Those struggles may have been submerged in the agreed text, but they were not necessarily resolved. The Tribunal in South China Sea at least had the courage to put a forthright view as to the impact that history should have on the interpretation and application of UNCLOS in real cases.
