On 12 February 1930 a near-insolvent English company began arbitration proceedings against a large and hostile foreign State under an ad hoc arbitration clause contained in a written concession agreement signed by both parties. This concession had been granted by the Soviet Union in 1925 in respect of gold mining and other properties previously operated by the English company's Russian subsidiaries until their dispossession by the Soviet Russian government in 1918, following the October 1917 Revolution. In May 1930, after three months, the Soviet Union abruptly withdrew from the arbitration proceedings, abandoning both its defence and counterclaim and instructing its appointed arbitrator to take no further part in the proceedings. Four months later, on 2 September 1930, the English company obtained a massive monetary award in its favour, signed in London by two arbitrators only. Yet the financial result of Lena Gold-fields Limited v. USSR was to benefit David little and cost Goliath less.

Governments have traditionally tended to place procurement contracts with domestic industry and this may distort the natural patterns of international trade, creating inefficiencies in the global economy. As global, regional and bilateral initiatives have met with increasing success in reducing trade barriers such as quantitative restrictions and tariffs, greater attention is now being focused on the remaining barriers, including closed government procurement.

This article will propose that comparative law as a discipline should now consolidate itself as an independent subject with its own internal structure. This is not to say that its teachers and professors should abandon, or at least fully abandon, their “gift of freedom”.1 Nor is it to confuse comparative law with other more specific law subjects which may be taught in a comparative way.2 What this article will propose is that comparative law be envisaged as a subject basically operating at two levels (or consisting of two parts). At one level it consists of the now considerable literature on the subject, including of course the work which envisages the subject in terms of legal families. At another level, however, comparative law should be envisaged as being concerned with the theoretical underpinning of the terms “comparative” and “law”. This part, in other words, would deal with these terms as instruments of knowledge. What is it to have knowledge of “law”? And what contribution does “comparison” make to this epistemo-logical question?

Over the last 30 years, the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties1 has emerged as one of the most influential instruments of modern international law. The Convention, which was adopted at the UN Conference on the Law of Treaties on 23 May 1969, entered into force on 27 January 1980 and has meanwhile been ratified by more than 80 States.2 Yet, as it does not operate retroactively,3 the scope of application is growing only slowly and its practical importance stems, rather, from the fact that the Convention is widely considered a restatement of customary international law. As early as 1971 the International Court of Justice referred to the articles governing termination for breach of treaty as a codification of the existing law on the subject.4 Since then both international tribunals and national courts have more and more habitually relied on the material provisions of the Convention to ascertain traditional rules of the law of treaties.5

More than 20 years after the measure was first proposed, the European Union has finally succeeded in adopting a directive designed to harmonise disparate national laws relating to the use of comparative advertising in the single market.1 In this article the authors examine the background, rationale and substance of the new legislation, before considering its impact on the current UK law. With a view to the possibility that implementation may contribute to the transatlantic harmonisation of advertising law, the new regime is measured against the liberal benchmark of US case law and recent Federal Trade Commission policy.

It is sometimes asked whether English private international law has a theory, or, if it has a theory, what this actually means. This may be a question for some, but it may have no answer. The purpose of this article is to take issue with the claim, sometimes made, that since Spiliada1 the subject has become less theoretical. To be sure, the deplorable quality of recent law reform lends powerful support to the proposition that concern for the theory of the subject (indeed, any form of reflective intelligence) has been notably lacking. But Spiliada may have been one of those defining moments in which the large theory of the English conflict of laws underwent a dramatic change and shone a light into areas of the subject which had been peacefully gathering dust.

Every member State of the United Nations is a party to the Statute (the Statute) of the International Court of Justice (the Court or ICJ).1 In addition, a non-member State may also become a party to the Statute.2 The Court is open to the States parties to the Statute.3 As to those States that are not parties to the Statute, Article 35(2) of the Statute provides:

The conditions under which the Court shall be open to other states shall, subject to the special provisions contained in treaties in force, be laid down by the Security Council, but in no case shall such conditions place the parties in a position of inequality before the Court.

The fans' representatives also had some thoughts on the televising of games and pay-per-view television. They proclaimed “the right of fans to watch football matches on television without having to pay extra, since they take place in public arenas which have been paid for by the citizens”.1

In the wholesale financial markets, enormous exposures are collateralised by interests in immobilised securities. Such collateral may be provided under a security interest, or by way of outright transfer.1 The collateral taker is always concerned to ensure that its interest in the collateral assets will be enforceable, not just against the collateral giver but also against third parties such as other creditors of the collateral giver. This is particularly important in the insolvency of the collateral giver, in order to ensure that the collateral taker ranks above ordinary creditors. Rights in assets which bind third parties are generally characterised as property rights, and the general approach in conflict of laws is to refer questions concerning the acquisition of property rights to the law of the place where the asset in question is located, or lex situs. In relation to interests in immobilised securities, this simple rule presents a challenge in practice, as the location of interests in immobilised securities may not be immediately obvious. This article suggests that the legal location of such interests is the office of the clearing system where the account recording such interests is maintained. This accords with the provisions of Article 9(2) of the Finality Directive, which has yet to be implemented in the United Kingdom.

The death of Diana, Princess of Wales, following a car accident in Paris on 31 August 1997, received worldwide media attention. The place of the accident as well as the circumstances thereof raise a number of legal questions. Of particular interest from a comparative tort law perspective are those aspects of the French enquiry that concern the civil implications of the criminal offence of failing to assist accident victims.2

The Northern Ireland Peace Agreement1 was concluded following multi-party negotiations on Good Friday, 10 April 1998. It received 71 per cent approval in Northern Ireland and 95 per cent approval in the Republic of Ireland in the subsequent referenda held on Friday 22 May, the day after Ascension. To some, it must have seemed that the timing was singularly appropriate following 30 years of “The Troubles”, which were perceived as being between a “Catholic minority” and a “Protestant majority”. While there are some minority groups identified by their religious affiliation that do require rights relating only to their religion, such as the right to worship in community,2 to practise and profess their religion,3 to legal recognition as a church,4 to hold property5 and to determine its own membership,6 some minority groups identified by their religious affiliation are properly national or ethnic minorities–religion is merely one factor which distinguishes them from the other groups, including the majority, in the population. One example of the latter situation is to be seen in (Northern) Ireland where there is, in fact, untypically, a double minority: the Catholic-nationalist community is a minority in Northern Ireland, but the Protestant-unionist population is a minority in the island of Ireland as a whole.7 The territory of Northern Ireland is geographically separate from the rest of the United Kingdom. The recent peace agreement addresses a whole range of issues for Northern Ireland, but included are, on the one hand, rights for the populations based on their religious affiliation, their culture and their language and, on the other, rights with respect to their political participation up to the point of external self-determination. It is a holistic approach. Like any good minority rights agreement,8 it deals with both standards and their implementation and, like any good minority rights agreement, it is not a minority rights agreement but, rather, a peace settlement.

The relationship between State immunity and diplomatic immunity has always been a rather complex one. The two concepts undoubtedly have a common juridical background in the form of the concepts of sovereignty, independence and dignity.1 On the other hand, recent developments in both fields have seen a move towards a more functional-based approach. Thus, in relation to diplomatic immunity, the dominant theoretical basis is that of functional necessity.2 As regards State immunity, recent developments in both international law3 and, more particularly, in UK law4, from absolute to restrictive State immunity, have resulted in a more functionally orientated approach, that is, a shift of emphasis in matters of State immunity from immunity ratione personae to immunity ratione materiae.5 Now two recent cases in the United Kingdom have raised the possibility that, in the case of diplomats at least, the two concepts may be combined to provide a double immunity for diplomatic agents against civil suit. More controversially, the cases have raised the possibility of a third type of protection based upon immunity ratione personae in what could be said to amount to a modified act of State doctrine. The cases in question are Propend Finance Pty Ltd. v. Alan Sing and The Commissioner of the Australian Federal Police6 and Re P (Diplomatic Immunity: Jurisdiction).7