This chapter begins by asking the question, what is the employment law at international organizations? The answer – international administrative law – implements the treaty-basis of international organizations. Second, the chapter sets out how this book paradigmatically structures international administrative law as the encounter between the status of the international civil service, administrative authority at international organizations and the influence of judgments of international administrative tribunals. Third, this book interprets international administrative law as a framework of interconnected legal principles and legal duties. Fourth, and in conclusion, the chapter identifies ways in which the book may be useful to different types of readers, namely: the employees and managers at international organizations; Member States; lawyers and students of the law; and those wanting to apply the employment law at international organizations to circumstances that seem advanced, rather than introductory.

The Nordic countries became members of the League of Nations in 1920. This changed the international position of the five Nordic states considerably and also had legal reverberations. During the League’s function, a substantial number of jurists from the five Nordic states contributed to the diverse discourses on the legal dimensions of the organization, its character, and its many functions. The legal expertise on international law grew out of the nineteenth-century inter-Nordic union conflicts that prepared the Nordic jurists formodern international law at the beginning of the twentieth century. The legal scholars were often both jurists and politicians and their legal reasoning and political considerations were intimately intertwined. This chapter studies for the first time the many contributions from over thirty Nordic lawyers that were involved with the legal issues of the League system.

Ireland’s five provinces were ruled over by multiple over and under-kings, with headquarters at Tara, in Midhe/Meath, Cashel in Mumha (later Munster) and Emain Macha in Uladh (later Ulster). Christian settlements from the fifth century (founded by Patrick, Brigid, Columcille, Finnian, Ciarán, Brendan, Íte and many others) forged strong links with Britain and Europe. Learning Latin led to the writing of Irish from the sixth century, and scholarship flourished. Everyone – kings, monks, traders and labourers, bards and the powerful lawyer class, lived in ring fort settlements. They ate mainly the dairy produce abundant in Ireland’s mild climate, meat occasionally, fish near coasts and rivers, pulses, and grains congenial to the region – oats, barley, wheat, rye. A legal tract was devoted to beekeeping. Scandinavian invaders from the late eighth century settled in the trading ports they established – Dublin, Wexford, Waterford, Cork and Limerick – and were gradually absorbed into Irish life. A high-kingship emerged in the tenth and eleventh centuries. Religion went through several cycles of decay and reform. Dioceses were established in 1152. Conflicts between Irish kings facilitated the invasion of the Anglo-Normans under Strongbow in 1169, bringing the English crown into Irish politics.

“This chapter develops a theoretical framework to explain why grassroots activists pursue litigation at international courts and how these efforts can reshape domestic social movements. It begins by situating the turn to international litigation within a context of domestic constraint and transnational opportunity, emphasizing the critical role of lawyers in identifying viable venues and guiding activists through strategic litigation. Moving beyond conventional, state-centered assessments of compliance, the chapter argues that international courts can shape domestic politics in more indirect but transformative ways. Even before a ruling is issued, litigation can embolden activists, legitimize their claims, and expand the repertoire of mobilization by attracting new allies, resources, and tactics. Drawing on sociolegal and social movement scholarship, the chapter develops the concept of “strategic mobilization of human rights” to describe how activists deploy rights language pragmatically to advance preexisting goals. Rather than transforming group identity or legal consciousness, rights frameworks often serve as tactical tools – mobilized when useful, discarded when not. The chapter concludes by identifying the conditions under which international litigation is more likely to catalyze domestic mobilization.”

This chapter explores how the Declaration of Independence was drafted and ratified. Congress created and assigned the task of drafting a declaration of independence to a committee of lawyers. When the draft went to the Congress, lawyers like Edward Rutledge had their chance to weigh in. The draft document and the final version was a legal document designed to place rebellion on a legal foundation. Jefferson later recalled that his draft of the Declaration of Independence merely recombined ideas that had long been discussed, and terminology long adopted, by Congress. The Declaration assumed independence, otherwise it would have had no foundation. Following this logic, as the members did, surely Jefferson among them, the Declaration was simply stating the reasons – a justification like the Declaratory Act of 1766, by which Parliament explained its authority over the colonies – for an event already transpired. The ringing elaboration of the rights of mankind, various borrowings from John Locke, echoes of natural law, and the language of prior resolves and declarations were not really pertinent to a declaration for the independence of a continent, but make sense in the more limited framework of Virginia constitutional change.

This chapter shows how local lawyers and NGOs have sought to challenge the practice of ‘authoritarian constitutionalism’, including in the courtroom. Yet, even when the courts appear to take centre stage here, the audience and message for courtroom performances are unexpected. This chapter explains that lawyers who articulate constitutionally-framed arguments in high-profile court cases often see themselves as speaking first and foremost to journalists and NGO observers in the gallery, and thus to the local public and international stakeholders to whom those observers in turn report. To the extent that courts play a role in constitutional practice, in other words, they do so as a stage on which contestations can be performed for a wider audience. Hence, this chapter develops a concept of an ‘extended legal complex’, which seeks to capitalise on the ruling party’s desire to maintain at least a semblance of fidelity to the legal process to articulate critiques of alternative interpretations of the Constitution before a national and international audience. The chapter then explains how the Cambodian People’s Party has sought to neutralise this threat to their constitutional legitimacy by politicising the Bar Association, thereby hamstringing the work of activist-lawyers and legally complicating their relationships with local NGOs.

Through investigating how exactly bribery take place, this chapter examines why guanxi is a necessary conduit of corruption in China. I argue that guanxi-practice embodies an alternative contracting mechanism of corruption with three functions. First, it allows corruption practitioners to communicate their intent to exchange without explicitly expressing it. Second, it minimizes the otherwise prohibitively high transactional costs and reduces the moral and cognitive barriers of corruption. Third, it contains a self-enforcing mechanism that allows the terms of corruption to be negotiated and enforced. Performed with tactics and etiquettes, guanxi-practice seamlessly grafts a corrupt and immoral agreement upon a social setting, in which venality is neutralized and rationalized. In this redefined social reality of corruption, an instrumental relationship is perceived or at least presentable as a reciprocal relationship based on social commitment. Lastly, I draw attention to the emergence of professional guanxi-brokers that has marketized guanxi and extended the otherwise highly restricted opportunity to engage in parochial corruption to a much-broadened user base.

Using the library of eighteenth-century attorney and legal historian Frances Hargrave as a starting point, this chapter considers the place of law, property, and state formation in the causes and results of the American Revolution. Focusing on three related themes to the place of laws in independence – the influence and break from English legal culture, the pluralism of legal practice within North America, and the place of legal institutions in either maintaining or changing the status quo – this chapter considers how both different forms of property and the different individuals and communities involved with it played a central role in the creation of an independent United States. The governments that emerged from the Revolution each relied heavily on these varied legal threads.

This chapter focuses on the change in the law known as the equity of redemption, which took form in the late seventeenth century, and made the title to mortgaged land more secure through the provision that rents could be sequestered to pay off a loan after the due date, to avoid the title to the property reverting to the lender. This legal change led to a rapid expansion of mortgaging and associated conveyancing. It also demonstrates how interest-bearing loans, based on the security of property, became a source of both income and, more importantly, stable abstract value that could be used to increase the money supply by underpinning the creation of local notes and bills. Mortgage income could also smooth credit flows by providing capital when outgoings were greater than incomings. In the past this would have triggered the need to litigate to increase income, but now money could be borrowed. This chapter will also examine savings held in the form of bonds.

In 1921 representatives of the United Kingdom and of the revolutionary Sinn Féin administration in Ireland signed a conditional agreement that subsequently became a treaty establishing the Irish Free State. Lawyers played an important role on each side, none more so than F. E. Smith (Lord Birkenhead), the then UK Cabinet Secretary. Thomas Jones observed caustically that ‘it is notorious that a lawyer cannot draft his own will clearly’. As regards the ambit of a Boundary Commission proposed by Article 12 to redraw the border created in Ireland in 1920 by the United Kingdom, Irish leaders Arthur Griffith and Michael Collins ultimately relied on British goodwill. Birkenhead depended on his knowledge of legal precedent and the Privy Council. This chapter considers the professional status of lawyers on each side and suggests that a certain ambiguity in the agreement enabled a settlement more readily than any insistence on absolute clarity would have.

While the field of European law scholarship has long maintained a form of ‘colonial amnesia’, this chapter considers the growing literature that has emerged over the past few years studying the entanglements between European law projects and (post)colonialism. The chapter first suggests a new analytical framework to assess these ‘entanglements’ and ‘continuities’ by looking at three ‘carriers of continuity’ in the law: biographies of multiple-positioned lawyers; forms of legal knowledge; institutions and professions in the European field of law. As it looks at European law projects from the margins and peripheries, this new stream of research can transform our understanding of European law which looks less like the ‘cathedral’ often praised by scholars and more like a complex ‘archipelago’, the legal borders and principles of which are uncertain and unequal.