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The rights of foreign states under the U.S. Constitution are becoming more important as the actions of foreign states and foreign state-owned enterprises expand in scope and the legislative protections to which they are entitled contract. Conventional wisdom and lower court cases hold that foreign states are outside our constitutional order and that they are protected neither by separation of powers nor by due process. As a matter of policy, however, it makes little sense to afford litigation-related constitutional protections to foreign corporations and individuals but to deny categorically such protections to foreign states. Careful analysis shows that the conventional wisdom and lower court cases are wrong for reasons that change our basic understanding of both Article III and due process. Foreign states are protected by Article III's extension of judicial power to foreign-state diversity cases, designed to protect foreign states from unfair proceedings and to prevent international conflict. The Article III "judicial power" over "cases" imposes procedural limitations on federal courts that we today associate with due process. In particular, Article III presupposes both personal jurisdiction and notice for all defendants, not just foreign states. Under the Fifth Amendment, foreign states are "persons" due the same constitutional "process" to which other defendants are entitled. "Process" only reaches defendants within the sovereign power, or jurisdiction, of the issuing court, clarifying the obscure relationship between due process and personal jurisdiction for all defendants. Examining the Constitution from the perspective of foreign states thus reveals the document in a new light, illuminating its core features in ways that advance our historical and theoretical understanding of Article III and due process. The analysis also lays the groundwork for determining whether foreign states have additional constitutional rights.

The federal common law of foreign relations has been in decline for decades. The field was built in part on the claim that customary international law is federal common law and in part on the claim that federal judges should displace state law when they conclude that it poses difficulties for U.S. foreign relations. Today, however, customary international law is generally applied based upon the implied intentions of Congress, rather than its free-standing status as federal common law, and judicial evaluation of foreign policy problems has largely been replaced by reliance upon presidential or congressional action, or by standard constitutional analysis. Two traditional areas of the federal common law of foreign relations–immunity and the act of state doctrine–are alive and well doctrinally. Their status as federal common law is somewhat unsteady, however, because the Court has not provided a convincing account of why these two topics should be governed by federal common law, and because the traditional basis for the federal common law of foreign relations have eroded. In an important new book, The Law of Nations and the United States Constitution, Anthony J. Bellia, Jr. and Bradford R. Clark argue that the Constitution itself requires courts to apply customary international law in these two areas. Their argument fails to convince. A better alternative is to justify federal common law as necessary to give effect to the very closely-related statutory framework governing foreign sovereign immunity, and because judicial lawmaking is also cabined by the content of customary international law and by some actions of the executive branch. The federal common law of foreign relations does have a future, but it depends neither upon the status of customary international law as federal common law nor upon judicial decision-making about the deleterious effect of state law upon U.S. foreign policy.

International law is in a period of transition. After World War II, but especially since the 1980s, human rights expanded to almost every corner of international law. In doing so, they changed core features of international law itself, including the definition of sovereignty and the sources of international legal rules. But what might be termed the "golden-age†of international human rights law is over, at least for now. Whether measured in terms of the increasing number of authoritarian governments, the decline in international human rights enforcement architecture such as the Responsibility to Protect and the Alien Tort Statute, the growing power of China and Russia over the content of international law, or rising nationalism and populism, international human rights law is in retreat. The decline offers an opportunity to consider how human rights changed, or purported to change, international law and how international law as a whole can be made more effective in a post-human rights era. This article is the first to argue that international human rights law – whatever its much disputed benefits for human rights themselves – appears to have expanded and changed international law itself in ways that have made it weaker, less likely to generate compliance, and more likely to produce interstate friction and conflict. The debate around international law and human rights needs to be reframed to consider these costs and to evaluate whether international law, including the work of the United Nations, should focus on a stronger, more limited core of international legal norms that protects international peace and security, not human rights.

In Zivotofsky v. Kerry, decided June 8, 2015, the United States Supreme Court (Court) held unconstitutional a federal statute that permitted U.S. citizens born in Jerusalem to designate "Israel" as their place of birth on their passports, notwithstanding the secretary of state's decision that such passports should designate "Jerusalem" as the place of birth. The opinion resolved a relatively narrow question of law (the constitutionality of an unusual statute), but the justices' reasoning and language are of potentially broad significance and will provide fodder for many doctrinal debates in U.S. foreign relations law.

One of the most dramatic moments in twentieth-century international law transpired in 1999 when the House of Lords denied immunity to Augusto Pinochet, the former dictator of Chile. The "breathtaking" judgment cleared the way for the possible prosecution of Pinochet in Spanish national courts on charges of torture committed during his rule. By limiting immunity, the House of Lords' rulings turned the world "upside down" and ushered in a new era of accountability for egregious violations of human rights. At least that is the prevailing narrative, one that pits accountability against the international law of immunity and seesPinochetas a watershed moment in that struggle.

The Captures Clause of the United States Constitution gives Congress the power to "make Rules concerning Captures on Land and Water." A variety of courts, scholars, politicians and others have recently cited the Clause to support conflicting arguments about the scope of Congress's power to initiate and prosecute war. Some claim or assume that the Captures Clause gives Congress power over the taking and detention of people, while others conclude that the power is limited to property only. Similarly, those who view Congress's power broadly understand the Captures Clause as giving Congress the power to determine what (or whom) may be seized both as method of initiating conflict and as measure of war prosecution. Others maintain that the Clause only gives Congress power over the adjudication and division of property seized by armed private vessels. Virtually all of these accounts rely on original history, yet none examines the Captures Clause in any detail. This Article does so, tracing the meaning of captures through British and Colonial Admiralty documents, prominent works of international law, the Revolutionary War and Articles of Confederation, and the drafting and ratification of the Constitution. The result is that the eventual language in the Constitution could have been plausibly understood in a variety of ways prior to the Revolutionary War, but it probably did not include the power to determine what or whom could be taken. The Continental Congress used the word "captures" in a significantly different way - to authorize what goods (but not what people) could be taken by both public and private vessels. This is also the best reading of the Constitution's text. The Captures Clause illuminates a small but significant area of constitutional history, for captures were extremely important throughout the eighteenth century. And the Captures Clause sheds important light on the meaning of the Letters of Marque and Reprisal, Declare War, and the Commander-in-Chief Clauses. Contrary to the views of almost ...

The Supreme Court's 2008 decision in Medellin v. Texas appears to represent a formalist turn in the Court's approach to foreign relations cases. The opinion emphasizes text as the key to treaty interpretation and it stresses the importance of the Constitution's specific law-making procedures. But the opinion does not deliver on its formalist promises. Emphasis on treaty text is undermined by the Court's insistence that the text reflects the intentions of the U.S. treaty makers, a questionable proposition with respect to the issue of domestic implementation raised by the case, and one that will raises serious interpretative difficulties down the road. Most significantly, however, the opinion is saddled with an unnecessary and unconvincing application of Justice Jackson's tripartite Youngstown framework. The Court concludes that President's effort to implement the treaty falls within the third category, but the indicia of Congressional intent that the Court relies on are weak, and the analysis works a substantial expansion of category III. Moreover, as the Court frames the issue - one of treaty interpretation - it is unclear why Youngstown should apply at all.

The Commander in Chief Clause is a difficult, underexplored area of constitutional interpretation. It is also a context in which international law is often mentioned, but not fully defended, as a possible method of interpreting the Constitution. This Article analyzes why the Commander in Chief Clause is difficult and argues that international law helps resolve some of the problems that the Clause presents. Because of weaknesses in originalist analysis, changes over time, and lack of judicial competence in military matters, the Court and commentators have relied on second-order interpretive norms like congressional authorization and executive branch practice in interpreting the war and foreign affairs powers of the President. International law can itself function as a second-order interpretive norm, in many ways similar to other forms of congressional authorization or executive branch practice. But because it is mediated in unique ways-by other countries and within our own domestic political system-international law is an especially compelling way to resolve problems with judicial competence and changes over time. International law also makes a powerful contribution to an originalist understanding of the Commander in Chief Clause: the Constitution explicitly vested control over war-related questions of international law with Congress, not the President.

Although international law has figured prominently in many disputes around actions of the U.S. military, the precise relationship between international law and the President's war powers has gone largely unexplored. This Article seeks to clarify one important aspect of that relationship: the role of international law in determining the scope of Congress's general authorizations for the use of force. In the seminal case of Hamdi v. Rumsfeld, the plurality opinion used international law to interpret the authorization by Congress for the use of force, but did so without adequate attention to the content or interpretive function of international law. This Article identifies and defends a better approach: courts should presume that general authorizations for the use of force do not empower the President to violate international law. Such a presumption is consistent with long-standing tools of statutory interpretation reflected in the Charming Betsy canon, maximizes the presumed preferences of Congress, advances separation of powers values, and promotes normative values that favor the use of international law as an interpretive tool.