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This article is concerned with the return of torture and other related abusive conduct to the British counter-insurgency arsenal following the initiation of military engagements in Afghanistan and Iraq in the early 2000s. It focuses primarily on how judges have engaged with the challenges that this torture and abusive conduct have posed, both in their capacity as judges proper and also as appointees to a range of inquiries that have been initiated in the wake of these actions. The article contrasts the post-2001 work of judges with that during an earlier episode when such state abuse was also evident, Northern Ireland in the 1970s. Arguing that the judiciary has been drawn into the fray much more heavily than in the 1970s and across a great range of platforms, the article analyses this judicial involvement and posits explanations for it against the backdrop of a changing UK politico-legal culture.

The reaction to 11 September damaged the liberty of those living in Europe who found themselves targeted as suspect terrorists while seeming to do little to ensure the security of the wider community. More recently a second emergency, rooted this time in the financial and economic collapse of 2008 onwards, has caused a further unravelling of Europe's constitutional project, even threatening the gains of past generations of European idealists. In today's Europe universal liberty and security have no meaning for many even if their shape is retained in structures that in truth mock rather than deliver democracy and human rights. This article traces the origins of the crises that have afflicted so directly the breadth of liberty and human security in the Union, demonstrating their roots in ‘viruses’ that have been present from the start of the European movement but which have now spiralled out of control. The essay ends by asking what can be done to prevent the full decline of the region into a state of neo-democratic/post-democratic unfreedom, one in which capital unbound from democracy thrives at the expense of the people.

It is acknowledged that traditional approaches to human rights can have and have had a negative impact in the field of environmental protection. But the emphasis in human rights on controlling the abuse of power and its capacity to equip social movements with a language of protest and a platform for change shows the potential for mutually beneficial connections between the two fields. The use made by environmental activists of various human rights that are to be found in international and regional laws is considered, as well as the way new social movements in the environmental arena have deployed the language of rights to promote their goals. It is concluded that a mutually reciprocal relationship between the two fields is both possible and – given the threat of climate change – essential.

This article explores a possible link between ‘neo-democratic’ states (the subject of a recent book by the author) and the underlying politico-economic ideology of our post-1989 world, neo-liberalism. Taking the United Kingdom and the United States as examples, it argues that the shift in our way of looking at the world that neo-liberalism represents involves a forsaking of many of the assumptions of the social democratic polity of the 20th century. However, this is not a leap into an unknown future so much as it is a return to a particular past. In the threatened transition to fully fledged neo-liberalism, ‘neo-democracy’ fulfils a useful role as mask that hides from us the great political, ethical and legal changes entailed in such a move.

There is no reason to repeal the Human Rights Act and the government’s manifesto commitment to do so should be dropped. The objections to it are misconceived, the arguments against it being based either on inaccurate understandings of what it says or error-strewn assertions about the nature of its impact. The political motive for attacking the Act – to undermine the UK’s association with Europe – has been overtaken by the much greater European disengagement of BREXIT.

If it is to be fair, an appraisal of the state of freedom of expression in Britain during the prime ministership of Tony Blair must avoid three traps into which civil libertarian zealots in general – and free speech enthusiasts in particular – often fall. Seductive though they might appear to the already passionate, these wrong turnings risk plunging civil libertarians into a dark hole so far removed from the lived experiences of the general public that their perspective on freedom loses all persuasive power as a result. The first of these is the temptation to deny history. This particular lament takes a number of forms: the current prime minister and/or home secretary are the worst in living memory; the ‘erosion’ or even ‘destruction’ of our civil liberties is gathering pace at an ‘unprecedented’ rate; governmental animosity towards Britain’s traditional freedoms ‘has never been stronger’. But these are the kinds of things that have been said about every government, at least since the early 1970s. In truth there has never been a ‘golden age’ of freedom from which to mark the start of our current ‘decline’. Even the civil libertarian Roy Jenkins did not escape from it, when he introduced the first prevention of terrorism legislation (with its bans on politico-military associations) in 1974. Merlyn Rees was a particular hate-figure to activists when he was home secretary in the 1970s, as was Roy Mason in the Northern Ireland Office. During this period, official secrets prosecutions, expulsions of journalists and abuse of police powers were commonly front-page news. Then came the Thatcher years, when discussion about the decline of freedom became to all intents and purposes received wisdom: the media ban, the Spycatcher injunctions and the Official Secrets Act 1989 were just some of the anti-free speech highlights of the 1980s. Even John Major’s administration produced similar stories in the 1990s, with anxieties about executive hostility towards the judiciary then being at their height: Kenneth Baker, David Waddington and Michael Howard were at least as controversial in their day as John Reid, Charles Clarke and David Blunkett have been in theirs. If the first thing we need to do is recover our memories, the second is to re-establish a sense of proportion. Civil libertarians have long been inclined towards intemperate language. In the 1980s, activists set up organisations with names like Charter 88 and Samizdat, specifically linking the situation in Britain with that of central Europe under communist rule. There was much talk then – as

TORTURE IS WRONG AND INEFFECTIVE. SO HOW IS IT MAKING A COMEBACK?

The European Court of Justice and the United Nations blacklisting regime - Background, case-law and conflict in relation to that regime - The Kadi II case - wider constitutional dimensions of the ruling - theoretical aspects of the dispute from rule of law perspective - the future

The terms 'liberty' and 'security' are analysed against a background of contemporary concerns about terrorism and the decline of freedom. The influence of Hobbes’s approach to liberty has been pervasive, and the effect of this has been to promote an approach to freedom which has been too willing to sacrifice individual liberty to the needs of the state. Republican attitudes to freedom have been likewise disinclined to allow the individual to get in the way of what the exigencies of the moment demand. The result of these two large-scale and important sets of historical ideas has been a democratic polity (in Britain and the US, but across the world, as well), which has been too consumed with (national) security and not sufficiently alive to the demands either of a broader kind of human security rooted in human flourishing or to the political liberty necessary to its achievement. The essay argues for a new reconciliation between liberty and security based on the language of human rights and manifested in, firstly, a wider approach to security (encompassing social and economic rights) and, secondly, a renewed commitment to the criminal law as the best means available for squaring security from harm with an unequivocal respect for the person, which must always be at the core of any human rights framework.

Explores the genesis, development and relationship between human rights and counter terrorism and argues that the momentum behind counter terrorism heightens the importance of providing a balance through a strong institutional concern with human rights. Considers the terms employed by counter terrorist defenders and the difficulties of reintroducing the language of evil into international legal conduct. Suggests that the human rights approach is driven by human rather than by homeland security. Contrasts and analyses the United Nations attempts to deal with counter terrorism and human rights, focusing on the UN commissioned report of the high level panel, A More Secure World: Our Shared Responsibility, of December 2004. Suggests that implementation of the report's proposals would strengthen the UN's authority in human rights and thereby facilitate more effective counter terrorism action.

The attacks of 11 September 2001 and the reaction to them has been the gravest challenge to date to the Human Rights Act 1998. The Antiterrorism, Crime and Security Act 2001 has expanded the remit of the Terrorism Act 2000 and there has been a new concentration on antiterrorism by government. This article assesses the impact of human rights law on the debate about liberty and security following 11 September. It considers how the provisions of the Human Rights Act have influenced the formulation and interpretation of anti-terrorism laws, and examines the role of the judiciary in adjudicating on disputes between the individual and the state. It ends with some general discussion about the security-driven challenges to human rights that lie ahead.

The Human Rights Act 1998 was one of the first pieces of legislation passed by New Labour. Some ministers believe that it is the greatest thing that they have done, whereas others view it as a dangerous mistake. This volume explains what the Act is about and where it fits into Britain's constitutional tradition, and explores whether or not it has achieved its goals. Since the act was passed, a large body of case law has built up around it. The Act has enjoyed its fair share of controversies and has produced its own range of disappointments. It has become part and parcel of law courses in all universities, and has attracted the attention of practitioners from all areas of practice. It is now part of Britain's constitutional furniture, of interest and relevance not only to lawyers but also to political scientists, contemporary historians, and the general public. This book takes a fresh look at the place of the Human Rights Act in Britain's constitutional order. It locates the measure in its political and historical context and analyses the case law from the perspective not only of principle but also of practical experience. It examines the effect of the Act, and provides the tools to make informed predictions on the likely outcome of cases.

Explores the definition of terrorism, arguing that those subversive groups which only employ violence of a terrorist kind can be described as engaging in immoral activity. Examines terrorism as a type of violence which is available to both governments and other groups, suggesting that historically it has been states which have proved most extreme in their use of political terror. Considers the historic and current shift in the definition of terrorism, suggesting that the language of terrorism has become the "rhetorical service of the established order" with the forces of that order deemed as "counter terrorists", reflecting an ahistorical account of the world. Considers the impact of the situation in the Middle East and Palestine on this transformation in meaning, underlining the significance of the focus shifting away from the technique of violence to the category of person. Concludes by examining the serious implications of this new age of counter terrorism for domestic politics and human rights both in western democracies and elsewhere.

It is doubtful whether there is a more famous court in Europe than the European Court of Human Rights. The town in which it is located, Strasbourg, has become a rallying cry for disappointed litigants from Iceland to Istanbul. Through its application of the European Convention on Human Rights, the Court is seen to have played an important role in the protection of individual freedom in western Europe, and its case-law has ballooned dramatically in recent years. So successful has it been that the Court's jurisdiction is coveted by the newly emerging democracies in eastern and central Europe as a badge of legitimacy and a bulwark against future tyranny. Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Poland and Bulgaria already have judges on the Court and representatives from Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania are expected in the not too distant future. There is even talk of Russian membership. Moves are afoot to rationalise the Court's procedures, and to incorporate its law within the European Community.1Some- time in the next few years it will have a fine new building, designed by Sir Richard Rogers. All the signs are that its jurisprudence will continue to grow at a hectic pace. It is not improbable that the Court will emerge over time as a supreme court of Europe, at least so far as human rights are concerned.

This is a story about two constitutions which have each tried (disastrously) to 'solve' the abortion 'problem'. It is about two cultures, Irish and American, which have sought to avoid difficult moral choices by handing over responsibility for them to the judges. It is about the untrappable nature of words and about the risks that flow from trying to tie down phrases like 'human rights' and 'the right to life'. It is about the dangers inherent in even liberal judicial decisions in countries with written constitutions and so-called 'bills of rights'. Above all, it is about the women who are at the present time, and in their thousands, the victims of the politics of abortion. Their fight for freedom of choice has been opposed with gusto by the religious partisans who have found in the abortion issue their chief battleground for a last great stand against secularism.

It is forty years since Professor Newark wrote despairingly of nuisance that “the subject as commonly taught comprises a mass of material which proves so intractable to definition and analysis that it immediately betrays its mongrel origins.” The “truest dictum in the books” was that of Erle C.J., who had once said in answer to the question, what is a nuisance?, that it was “immersed in undefined uncertainty.” Little has changed since 1949. Public and private nuisance still face life together in the textbooks, the universities and the law reports, despite the convincing evidence all round, much of it gathered in Newark's article, that they have little in common except the accident of sharing the same name. Making hoax bomb calls, obstructing the highway and holding a badly organised pop festival are as vulnerable to a public nuisance action as are the more traditional occurrences of special damage from atmospheric, water and noise pollution. Private nuisance has, if anything, become even more confused and confusing. Its chapter lies neglected in the standard works, little changed over the years, its modest message overwhelmed by the excitements to be found elsewhere in tort. Any sense of direction which may have existed in the old days is long gone. The action now encompasses not only smelly oil depots, noisy speedboats and the like but also dangerous natural hazards on the land and the only slightly less natural “user of premises for prostitution and the perambulations of the prostitutes and their customers.” Sometimes negligence is essential to liability, sometimes it is quite irrelevant.