Water - American Bar Association
Transcription
Water - American Bar Association
INDEX Features 2 Confronting Water Allocation Problems in the Nile River Basin: The Need for a New Compact John Mukum Mbaku 11 The Indus Water Kishenganga Arbitration: Minimum Flows, Data Exchange, and the Treaty that Holds It All Together Kristian Corby 20 The Right to Water in the Case Law of the European Court of Human Rights Carolina de Mendonça Gueiros and David N. Cassuto 24 Where Two Rivers Meet: Realizing Indigenous Water Rights Through the Human Right to Culture Carina Roselli EDITORIAL BOARD Issue Editor Anna Mance Editorial Team Shannon Dilley, R. Juge Gregg, Guillermo Malm Green, Renee Martin-Nagle, Jonathan Nwagbaraocha, Andrew Schatz, Kim Smaczniak Layout & Design Anna Mance Cover Image Jamon Van Den Hoek The cover image shows irrigated agricultural land along the Nile River in central Egypt, with parched geology to the East. This map was produced by Jamon Van Den Hoek, a NASA Postdoctoral Fellow at NASA Goddard Space Flight Center, using Landsat satellite imagery. EDITOR’S LETTER Water is being increasingly recognized as a defining resource that frames relationships among nations and individuals. Moreover it defines our relationship to land and where and how we live, as the cover image of the Nile River depicts. As the river flows, the red and green imagery illustrates the vegetation, agriculture, and development crowding along the banks, leaving great swathes of the desert untouched. In this second installment of the Special Edition series, Water: Regional Perspectives, the authors focus on regions around the globe where water rights with respect to upstream and downstream riparian neighbors, individuals, and indigenous groups are being deterimed. In so doing, the debates and decisions have stirred new ways of thinking about the opportunities and limitations inherent in our individual and collective relationships to this critical resource. Focusing on the Nile River Basin, John Mukum Mbaku traces the Nile Waters Agreement from its colonial-era origins in the 1929 AngloEgyptian Treaty and 1959 Bilateral Agreement Between Egypt and Sudan, both based on historically acquired rights, to the current push for the Cooperative Framework Agreement, based on concepts of equity and fairness. He argues that to manage the current environmental and water allocation issues arising in the Nile River Basin none of these frameworks is adequate and only one that fully meets the needs of all riparian states will be acceptable. Next, Kristian Corby discusses the effect of the recent Indus Waters Kishenganga Arbitration on the Indus Waters Treaty, in which the Court determined that providing minimum flow may satisfy an upstream state’s duty to mitigate substantial environmental harm to a downstream state. He considers the implications of this concept on the Kishenganga/Neelum River as well as how it might be applied to other international watercourses. Through the lens of two decisions by the European Court of Human Rights, co-authors Carolina de Mendonça Gueiros and David N. Cassuto describe the possibilities and limits to achieving water quality protection within the European human rights system. Several of the rights protected under Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights include a right to water, though a true “right to water” does not exist. Through these case studies, they show the broad flexibility States have in choosing how to address violations of Article 8 rights. Finally, Carina Roselli offers a compelling view of the first successful case linking water to cultural rights under Article 27 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. She suggests that the Poma Poma case in Peru is the beginning of a new era of greater recognition for the interdependence of cultural rights and natural resources and details how the same concept could apply to indigenous groups in Chile and Iraq. As joint collaborators, the International Environmental Law Committee (IELC) of the Section of International Law and the International Environmental and Resource Law Committee (IERLC) of the Section of Environment, Energy, and Resources, hope that these articles will inspire further thought and discussion on the topics herein and the scope of the right to water and issues of water quality, access, and obligation. I am especially grateful to all who have participated this effort, particularly the authors for their excellent contributions and to my fellow committee members for their interest and support in fostering a forum for high-level dialogue on law, policy, and science. Anna Mance Editor Vice Chair of Policy IELC, Section of International Law 2 Confronting Water Allocation in the Nile River Basin: The Need for a New Compact JOHN MUKUM MBAKU, ESQ. I. INTRODUCTION For millennia, Egypt has sustained itself and its civilization by extracting and utilizing the waters of the Nile River.1 Over the years, Egyptians and their leaders have come to claim a “natural historical right” to the Nile River’s waters and resources. These claims now represent the most important element of the conflict that modern Egypt has with upstream riparian States over the allocation of the waters of the Nile River. Since the 1920s, many treaties have been concluded between the States of the Nile River or their representatives to provide a legal framework for the allocation of the waters of the Nile River.2 These treaties granted Egypt most of the waters of the Nile River and placed the other riparian States on a competitive disadvantage in regard to access to water allocation and utilization.3 The conflict between the downstream (Egypt and the Republic of Sudan) and upstream riparian States4 has centered around the fact that colonial-era agreements5 allotted more than 80 percent of the waters of the Nile River to Egypt and Sudan, leaving the upstream riparians with virtually no water allocations.6 Although the upstream riparian States have denounced them7 and consider them anachronistic and dysfunctional, the Nile Waters Agreements8 are the most important legal instrument currently in place to regulate all activities related to the allocation of the waters of the Nile River. Below, we briefly examine them. A. THE 1929 ANGLO-EGYPTIAN TREATY The 1929 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty was signed between Egypt and Great Britain, with the latter representing the interests of Anglo-Egyptian Sudan. Estimating the Nile River’s average annual flow of water to be 84 billion cubic meters, the 1929 Agreement granted Egypt 48 billion cubic meters per year and Sudan 4 billion cubic meters per year.9 In addition, the treaty (1) granted Egypt the right to monitor and regulate all activities (e.g., the building of dams) on the Nile River and its tributaries by upstream riparian States to make certain that they did not negatively affect the flow of water to Egypt;10 (2) granted Egypt veto power over construction projects on the Nile River and its tributaries considered detrimental to Egyptian interests;11 and (3) allocated most of the waters of the Nile River to Egypt.12 The Anglo-Egyptian Treaty defined what came to be known as Egypt’s “historically acquired rights” to the waters of the Nile River.13 It purported to bound the Nile’s upstream riparians even though they were neither signatories to the treaty nor participants in the negotiations leading to the compacting of the agreement.14 For many years, the British had relied on agricultural exports from the Nile River Basin territories, including Egypt, which gained its independence in 1922. In the process, Britain became involved in the allocation of the waters of the Nile River between Egypt, Anglo-Egyptian Sudan, and … British East Africa for irrigation purposes.15 A major purpose of the 1929 Agreement was the development of British Sudan and other upstream territories.16 Nevertheless, the agreement protected specifically the agricultural interests of Egypt.17 The British Government also assured Cairo that the country’s “natural and historic rights” would be safeguarded.18 Most of the water that flows into the Nile River comes primarily from the lakes of central Africa, the Blue Nile and the Atbara Rivers in Ethiopia.19 Although Ethiopia provides as much as 86 percent of the Nile River’s waters, the 1929 Agreement made her water interests subordinate to those of Egypt’s. In addition, the treaty specifically required “Egyptian oversight and approval of any irrigation, power, or other water diversion project along the Nile.”20 B. THE 1959 BILATERAL AGREEMENT BETWEEN EGYPT AND SUDAN The 1959 Agreement was designed to support, augment, and enhance the provisions of the 1929 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty.21 As its title indicates, the 1959 Agreement was supposed to allow Egypt and Sudan to make a full utilization of the waters of the Nile River, a process that did not take into account the interests and development needs of the upstream riparian States.22 Recall that the 1929 Agreement had allotted Egypt 48 billion cubic meters per year and Sudan 4 billion cubic meters per year of an estimated average annual flow of 84 billion cubic meters of water.23 The 1959 Agreement increased Egypt’s share to 55.5 billion cubic meters per year and Sudan’s to 18.5 billion cubic meters per year, leaving only 10 billion cubic meters per year unallocated, primarily to account for seepage and evaporation.24 The 1959 Agreement reinforced the concept of so-called “natural and historic rights of Egypt” that had been made explicit in the 1929 Agreement.25 Egypt and Sudan, the contracting parties to the 1959 Agreement, intended to secure all the waters of the Nile River for themselves and leave none to the upstream riparian States.26 C. THE CONFLICT IN THE NILE RIVER BASIN But, what is the nature of the conflict between the downstream and upstream riparian States?27 The upstream States have argued, through many forums,28 that the allocations made possible by the Nile Waters Agreements29 are unfair, inequitable, and greatly hinder their ability to utilize the waters of the Nile River and its tributaries for national development.30 The upstream riparian States argue further that both Egypt and Sudan are using the Nile Waters Agreements and the socalled “historic acquired rights” principle to prevent the evolution, within the Nile River Basin, of a new legal framework that can enhance and make possible, the fair and equitable allocation and utilization of the river’s waters.31 In fact, Egypt has actively campaigned against financial support to upstream riparian States for the construction of infrastructure projects on the Nile River and/or its tributaries. As stated by Salif Diop, an expert on international watercourse management “[n]o donor or bank is going to agree to give money for a dam or an irrigation scheme if they know that it’s illegal in international law and does not have the backing of all Nile nations, especially Egypt.”32 Over the years, Ethiopia has refused to recognize the legality of both the 1929 and 1959 agreements. First, the Ethiopians have argued that Great Britain was not representing them when it negotiated the 1929 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty. Second, Ethiopia did not participate in the negotiations that produced either the 1929 or 1959 agreement or become a signatory to either of them. Third, both agreements produced allocation regimes that are considered by virtually all the upstream riparian States as grossly unfair and inequitable since “one party [i.e., Egypt] reserved for itself all the rights and privileges, leaving the other party [i.e., the upstream riparian States] without any quid pro quo.”33 The officials in Addis Ababa went on to argue that “the whole exercise of the agreement [i.e., the 1929 Agreement] was geared mainly to protect and to promote Egypt’s interests without any reciprocity, and that it [i.e., Ethiopia] had not renounced its own quantitatively unspecified but existing natural right to the Nile waters in its territory.”34 Since the 1950s, Ethiopia has asserted, as well as, reserved, its rights to access the waters of the Blue Nile River for its agricultural development. In doing so, the Ethiopians have not given cognizance to the restrictions imposed on upstream riparian States by international law, specifically, the Nile Waters Agreements.35 II. THE NILE RIVER BASIN’S CURRENT LEGAL REGIME: ANACHRONISTIC AND DYSFUNCTIONAL Presently, the Nile River Basin legal framework consists of the Nile Waters Agreements,36 which, unfortunately, are considered by the upstream riparian States as null and invalid.37 For a variety of reasons, the validity of the Basin’s present legal framework is uncertain and in doubt.38 First, the 1929 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty was concluded when all the upstream riparian States (and one downstream riparian State—Sudan), except Ethiopia, were colonies.39 Although Egypt insists that the 1929 Agreement is valid, the upstream riparian States have invoked either the “clean slate or Nyerere concepts of state succession”40 to denounce it and proclaim it invalid and not binding on them. Second, the 1929 Treaty was an agreement between Egypt and Britain, with the latter representing Anglo-Egyptian Sudan and Britain’s other colonies in the Nile River Basin.41 In 1929, Ethiopia was an independent and sovereign country and hence, could have negotiated on its own behalf but it was not made part of the negotiations leading to the signing of the 1929 Treaty.42 As a consequence, Ethiopian leaders have challenged the validity of the 1929 Agreement, especially as it applies to them. Beginning in 1956, Ethiopia began to expressly assert its rights to the waters of the Nile River and argued that it was not bound by the 1929 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty.43 In 1902, Britain and Ethiopia entered into a treaty to settle the boundary between the Ethiopian Kingdom and British Sudan.44 In this treaty, Ethiopia agreed not to engage in any construction projects on the Blue Nile and its tributaries that would interfere with the flow of water to the Nile River, and hence, negatively impact Britain’s agricultural interests in Egypt. However, Ethiopia’s statements in 1956 and 1957 indicated that it no longer considered the 3 1902 Agreement and other colonial-era agreements binding on the country.45 Third, as more European colonies in the Nile River Basin gained independence in the 1950s and 1960s, many of the new countries followed Ethiopia’s approach to treaty succession and denounced the Nile Waters Agreements and argued that they did not bind them.46 After it gained independence from Egypt and Great Britain in 1956, Sudan officially repudiated the 1929 Agreement, arguing that “economic and technical development since 1929 had rendered these provisions obsolescent.”47 The basic argument was that the agreement was outdated and was no longer capable of meeting the needs of modern States struggling to deal effectively with poverty, rapid population growth, and other post-independence development challenges. Hence, these countries spoke in favor of a new international legal framework that would “reflect not only the legal concerns of all parties involved, but also concern (at least in the postcolonial context) for shifting realities in the process of an agreement’s implementation.”48 Fourth, along with the fact that all the upstream riparian States have denounced them and believe that they do not represent effective mechanisms to deal with post-independence development challenges, the agreements also do not provide mechanisms to confront issues, such as ecosystem sustainability, environmental protection, and sustainable water management, which have become priorities in many countries in the region, including those in the Nile River Basin.49 Fifth, the 1929 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty is totally inadequate because it allocates water only to Egypt and Sudan. The other riparians, whose streams and lakes supply all the water flowing into the Nile River, effectively do not have any allocations and hence, consider the existing legal framework as producing an allocation and utilization system that is unfair, inequitable, and simply not practical.50 Finally, the allocation made possible by the 1959 Agreement “no longer reflects the interests and needs of both Egypt and the Sudan and a new agreement should be negotiated.”51 In addition to droughts, which have significantly reduced the amount of available water in the Basin, both Sudan and Egypt have seen significant increases in their populations since the 1959 agreement was signed and, in addition, these countries have improved their capacity to harvest and utilize the waters of the Nile River for development.52 III. A NEW LEGAL FRAMEWORK FOR THE NILE? A. THE ROLE OF INTERNATIONAL WATERCOURSE LAW One way to start a conversation on the development of a new legal framework for the Nile River Basin is to examine the law governing international watercourses. The Convention on the Law of Non-navigational Uses of International Watercourses (“U.N. Watercourses Convention”) is a good place to start.53 The U.N. Watercourses Convention deals with issues that may greatly interest the Nile riparian States. River Of great importance is Art. 4(1), which states that “Every in the negotiation of watercourse State is entitled to participate agreement that and to become a party to any watercourse applies to the entire watercourse, as well as to participate in any relevant consultation.”54 Since none of the upstream riparian States participated in the negotiation of, or were parties to, the 55 Nile Waters Agreements, it is quite appropriate, based on international law principles, to argue that the exisiting legal theor 4 framework be discarded in favor of negotiations to produce a more inclusive compact. The principle widely considered the cornerstone of the Convention and, indeed, the foundation for the management of international watercourses, is Article 5’s “Equitable and reasonable utilization and participation,”56 which states that “Watercourse States shall participate in the use, development and protection of an international watercourse in an equitable and reasonable manner.”57 In order to determine what constitutes “reasonable and equitable use,” certain relevant factors provided in Art. 6 must be considered.”58 Article 7 contains another foundational principle considered critical to the management of international watercourses—the “obligation not to cause signification harm.”59 In harvesting and utilizing the waters of an international watercourse or putting the latter to other uses, States are required to “take all appropriate measures to prevent the causing of significant harm to other watercourse States.”60 Articles 5 and 7 actually complement each other—they work together to provide mechanisms for all riparian States, both upstream and downstream, to resolve conflicts arising from watercourse use.61 As interpreted by Professor Stephen C. McCaffrey,62 if a State believes it has sustained significant harm due to a co-riparian State’s use of an international watercourse, it will ordinarily raise the issue with the second State. In the negotiations that follow, article 5, 6, and 7 in effect provide that the objective is to reach a solution that is equitable and reasonable with regard to both States’ uses of the watercourse and the benefits they derive from it.63 Article 8 of the U.N. Watercourses Convention imposes on watercourse States the obligation to cooperate and they are required to do so “on the basis of sovereign equality, territorial integrity, mutual benefit and good faith in order to attain optimal utilization and adequate protection of an international watercourse.”64 To enhance that cooperation, Art. 9 provides for “regular exchange of data and information”65 on water quality, as well as on the “hydrological, meteorological, hydrogeological and ecological nature” of the watercourse.66 The Convention’s Section III is devoted to “planned measures”—specifically, the obligation of watercourse States to notify other parties that might be affected by any projects that they plan to undertake on the watercourse.67 In fulfilling this obligation, States are required to make “timely notification”68 and provide “available technical data and information, including the results of any environmental impact assessment.”69 The notified State is expected to reply as soon as possible, but is granted up to six months to do so.70 If the notified State believes that the planned project would be inconsistent with or violate the provisions of Articles 5 or 7, the affected States must engage in negotiations to secure an equitable resolution of the problem.71 The Convention also provides legal mechanisms for jointly protecting, preserving, and managing international 72 watercourses. Specifically, this part of the Convention provides for the “prevention, reduction and control of 73 pollution,” and obligates all watercourse States to take all r necessary and appropriate measures to prevent and mitigate conditions related to the international watercourse that may be harmful to other watercourse States.74 B. THE U.N. WATERCOURSES CONVENTION AND THE NILE RIVER BASIN As stated in Art. 3(1) of the U.N. Watercourses Convention, the latter does not affect “the rights or obligations of a watercourse State arising from agreements in force for it on the date on which it became a party to the present Convention”75—that is, the U.N. Watercourses Convention “does not affect the status or obligations of existing agreements,”76 such as the Anglo-Egyptian Treaty of 1929 and the 1959 Bilateral Agreement between Egypt and Sudan. Parties to an international watercourse, of course, are free to negotiate and adopt a new regional compact that can coexist with the Convention.77 Since the Nile River Basin is in need of a new legal framework to deal effectively and fully with “current environmental and water allocation issues,”78 the Nile River’s eleven riparian States can use the U.N. Convention as “the basis for a new Nile agreement.”79 Unfortunately, any attempt to apply the U.N. Convention to the Nile River or to use it as a foundation for the development of a new legal framework for the Nile River Basin could face significant problems.80 First, many of the Nile River Basin riparian States either voted against the U.N. Watercourses Convention or abstained from voting.81 Second, none of the eleven Nile River riparian States have signed or ratified the U.N. Watercourses Convention since it was adopted in 1997.82 At the Working Group level, several of the Nile River Basin countries made comments that reveal their unwillingness to utilize the Convention as a foundation for the development of a new Nile River legal framework.83 Third, Art. 6’s “equitable and reasonable utilization” principle is extremely vague and difficult to apply. As argued by Carroll,84 since each State is allowed to consider a litany of “factors and circumstances,”85 “which have no given weight, and thus it may be difficult to reach agreement on what combination of factors constitutes equal utilization.”86 C. THE IMPACT OF NATIONAL WATER NEEDS ON THE PRINCIPLE OF EQUITABLE AND REASONABLE UTILIZATION 1. Egypt Variations in water needs within the Nile River Basin countries could subject Art. 6’s principle of equitable and reasonable utilization to the types of interpretations that may make it very difficult to reach agreement. Egypt relies totally on waters from the Nile River for all its domestic and commercial needs and with existing technology, the country currently has no other source of water. It is no wonder that Egyptian authorities have insisted that the country’s so-called 87 natural and historically acquired rights be maintained. Thus, despite the fact that the upstream riparian States have strongly granted Egypt protested the unfairness of the water allocation authorities have by the Nile Waters Agreements, Egyptian 88 resisted any efforts to change them through new negotiations. 5 During the Working Group negotiations, Egyptian representatives argued that “the availability of other water resources”89 should be considered when determining what is equitable utilization under Art. 6. The Working Group did not accept Egypt’s suggestion but it went on to add, as a factor to be considered in determining “equitable and reasonable utilization,”90 “the availability of alternatives, of comparable value, to a particular planned or existing use.”91 For many years, Egyptians have argued that their country is the gift of the Nile River and without the latter, there is no Egypt.92 For millennia, they have used the waters of the Nile River for commercial and domestic purposes and the country has eventually formed a very unique relationship with the river. Hence, today’s Egyptians could argue that since they were the first to “develop” the Nile River’s waters and put them to productive use and given the fact that their very survival depends on these waters, their present use is equitable.93 The Egyptians could also argue that taking into consideration “the population dependent on the watercourse” provision of Art. 6(1)(c),94 the country should be allowed to maintain the historical water allocations that the country’s population has depended on for millennia.95 Finally, Egypt’s leaders could argue that since the country currently has the most developed and advanced systems of water harvest and utilization, as well as conservation in the Nile River Basin, and that in line with Art. 6(1)(f), it is indeed using water reasonably and equitably.96 2. Ethiopia Ethiopia can view equity differently, and argue that since its highlands provide more than 80 percent of the Nile’s waters, it should be granted a greater share, at the minimum, more than what is currently granted to Egypt.97 This argument, however, cannot be sustained under the provisions of Art. 6—water contribution is not a relevant factor in the determination of equitable and reasonable utilization under this convention.98 Of course, Ethiopia could invoke other Art. 6 factors or provisions to support its argument that equity requires that it be allocated more of the waters of the Nile River. A persuasive argument for increased allocations to Ethiopia could be supported by its “social and economic needs”;99 the dependence of its population on the watercourse;100 lack of “availability of alternatives, of comparable value, to a particular planned, or existing use”;101 and that Egypt’s current use could have a significantly negative impact on Ethiopia’s ability to harvest and utilize the waters for its own development.102 It appears, then, that both Egypt and Ethiopia could use Art. 6 to come to completely different results regarding the equitable and reasonable utilization of the waters of the Nile River. Finally, under Art. 6(g),103 other riparian countries’ water uses must be taken into consideration when determining equitable use. Unfortunately, the term “comparable use” is not granted a definition and its use is subject to interpretation. In fact, each riparian State could formulate its interpretation of “comparable use” to support its own concept or view of equitable and reasonable utilization.104 D. OBLIGATION NOT TO CAUSE SIGNIFICANT HARM According to Art. 7, “in utilizing an international ……………… 105 watercourse in their territories,” all riparian States are required to “take all appropriate measures to prevent the causing of significant harm to other watercourse States.”106 But, what exactly are “all appropriate measures” and, as argued by some scholars,107 what activities or actions on behalf of an international watercourse user would constitute the duty of “all appropriate measures” to prevent damaging the interests of other users of the watercourse?108 Since “harm” is not defined by the Convention, affected parties would have to determine what constitutes harm and when it has actually been imposed on one by another.109 What, then, is “significant harm”? Would construction of the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam on the Blue Nile constitute “significant harm” to Egypt? In fact, is “harm” to another limited to activities that reduce the flow of water to others or does it include activities that degrade the quality of the watercourse? Hence, given the fact that the Convention has failed to provide a definition for “harm,” the application of this principle is likely to be very difficult. If these principles are used to design a new legal framework for the Nile River Basin or incorporated into such an agreement, they would not be enough to resolve the problem of “equitable utilization.” In fact, some Nile River riparian States have argued that the “no harm principle” should only be invoked and made operational when a watercourse State “has exceeded its equitable or reasonable use.”110 Of course, since time immemorial, Egyptians have claimed that their very survival depends on uninterrupted flow of water into the Nile River and the continued flow of the latter through their territory.111 Given the positions that the Nile River riparian States have taken in regards to the utilization of the waters of the Nile River, incorporating the principles of “equitable and reasonable utilization” and the “obligation not to cause significant harm” into a new Nile River Basin legal framework would essentially “pit upstream and downstream states against each other.”112 IV. THE NILE RIVER BASIN COOPERATIVE FRAMEWORK AGREEMENT: CAN THIS BE THE NEW LEGAL FRAMEWORK? A. INTRODUCTION In 1999, the Nile River Basin countries,113 working under the auspices of the Nile Basin Initiative (NBI), started negotiations to produce a new legal framework for the Nile River. The hope was that this new legal framework would replace the Nile Waters Agreements. Development of this legal framework, which would be called the Cooperative Framework Agreement (CFA), was undertaken under the leadership of the Council of Ministers of the NBI countries. The CFA represented the first effort by the Nile River riparian States to introduce the principle of equitable and reasonable water allocation and utilization into discussions about Nile River governance.114 The CFA sought to replace unilateralism and competitive nationalism with a regional and cooperative approach to dealing with Nile River issues. The Nile River riparians, that the most particularly the upstream States, believed Nile River Basin were important obstacle to cooperation in the the Nile Waters Agreements.115 They believed very strongly that a new, regionally-based cooperative agreement was needed g g 6 116 to replace all the colonial-era treaties. When the Council of Ministers (“COM”) of the Nile River Basin States met in Entebbe, Uganda, in June 2007, the parties were unable to reach agreement because of the insistence by Egypt and Sudan that Article 14 (b) of the CFA be replaced.117 What the COM adopted, without the consent of both Egypt and Sudan, read partly as follows: Nile Basin states therefore agree, in a spirit of cooperation: “(a) to work together to ensure that all States achieve and sustain water security; (b) not to significantly affect the water security of any other Nile Basin State.118 Egypt and Sudan wanted Article 14(b) amended to obligate all the riparian States “not to adversely affect the water security and current uses and rights of any other Nile Basin State.”119 Since the COM was unable to fully resolve the issue over the amendment to Article 14(b) suggested by Egypt and Sudan, it referred the matter of water security to the Heads of State and Governments of the riparian States for resolution.120 Efforts to resolve this issue, however, proved fruitless because Egypt and Sudan refused to accept the wording of 14(b) that was acceptable to upstream riparian States and the latter objected vigorously to the wording suggested by Egypt and Sudan.121 The source of conflict between the two parties—the upstream and downstream riparian States—is the expression “current uses and rights” of any other Nile Basin State.122 Since the Nile Waters Agreements determine current uses and rights, the acceptance of the alternative wording of Article 14(b) suggested by Egypt and Sudan would effectively and essentially grant legitimacy to the Nile Waters Agreements and allocate nearly 90 percent of the waters of the Nile River to the two downstream riparian States.123 Thus, adoption of the alternative Article 14(b) would effectively defeat the purpose for which the upstream riparian States opted to design the CFA—which was, to provide an alternative legal framework for governing the Nile River that guarantees equitable and reasonable utilization. B. WILL THE CFA REPLACE THE EXISTING LEGAL FRAMEWORK IN THE NILE RIVER BASIN? During the negotiations to produce the CFA, the upstream riparian States wanted the new agreement to replace the anachronistic Nile Waters Agreements—that is, they wanted “the new agreement to supersede any previous agreements”124 and provide all riparians with a legal framework capable of achieving equity and fairness in allocation and utilization. The downstream riparian States, however, insisted on a CFA that would specifically and explicitly recognize and accept as legally legitimate and binding all previous agreements governing the allocation and utilization of the waters of the Nile River. None of the CFA’s more than forty articles, however, addresses the issue of previous agreements or treaties and hence, the fate of the colonial-era agreements remains unresolved. The official position of the drafting committee125 was to leave the issue of previous agreements for resolution at a later time.126 Ibrahim127 argues, however, that “[a]lthough the official position held by the drafting committee is to leave the of the colonial treaties for later deliberation, it is very issue likely the new treaty will have the legal effect of annulling the 128 previous treaties.” One, of course, can consider the provisions of Art. 59 of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, which indicate that the termination of the operation of a treaty can be implied by the conclusion of a latter treaty.129 However, in order for a treaty to be considered terminated under the provisions of Art. 59, “all the parties to it [must] conclude a later treaty relating to the same subject-matter”130— the CFA qualifies because it deals with the same subject-matter as the Nile Waters Agreements. In addition, there is an “intent” element,131 which is an additional requirement—the parties to the later treaty must intend that the subject-matter be governed by the later treaty—although one can argue that the Nile River riparian States want the CFA to govern the allocation and utilization of the waters of the Nile, the version of the CFA preferred by the upstream riparians is not acceptable to the downstream States.132 The Nile River riparian States are unlikely to successfully annul the Nile Waters Agreements through the passage of the CFA as it is (that is, in its present form), because Egypt and Sudan have indicated in no uncertain terms that they will not sign a CFA that is designed to abrogate the Nile Waters Agreements.133 What, then, would be the legal status of the CFA if Egypt and Sudan refuse to sign and eventually ratify the treaty? The most important reason for the upstream riparian States to develop the CFA was to “balance upper and lower riparian interests”134 and produce a legal framework that would bring to an end a longstanding conflict over the allocation and utilization of the waters of the Nile River. The CFA, as it is presently constituted, would not bring about that balance. In fact, even if the CFA—with the Art. 14(b) preferred by the upstream riparian States—eventually enters into force as mandated by Article 42,135 it would not have the legal force to resolve the conflict that has consumed the Nile River Basin since 1929.136 For, without the participation of the other party in the dispute (i.e., the downstream riparians, Egypt and Sudan), the CFA would be considered unilateral action on the part of the upstream riparians, which the downstream riparians would consider as not binding on them. It has been argued by some commentators that the CFA’s importance lies in the possibility that it could be used by the upstream riparian States to “diplomatically corner the lower riparian states”137 and force them into abandoning the Nile Waters Agreements, or at the very least, moderating their views on them and allowing substantial amendments to be made to them. On May 10, 2010, five of the upstream riparian States138 signed the CFA.139 On February 28, 2011, Burundi, another upstream riparian, signed the CFA. South Sudan has rejected the Nile Waters Agreements and sided with the upstream riparian States but has not yet signed the CFA.140 The main question for the Nile River Basin today is not whether the existing legal framework should be changed but how to do so. The CFA could be viewed as a tool that can help the upstream riparians achieve two important and related objectives: (i) force Egypt and Sudan to give up their hegemonic control of the Bile River Basin; and (ii) improve the (e.g., dams and environment for the financing of infrastructure ability of all riparians irrigation systems) that can enhance the to equitably and reasonably harvest and utilize the waters of the calculus in the Basin by weakening the ability of the Nile River and its tributaries. The fear, especially by Egypt, is that an improved financing environment could allow an upstream riparian to unilaterally undertake a project that could significantly impede water flow to downstream riparians. Such a project, if successful, could radically change the negotiating downstream riparians to maintain the status quo.141 V. AN EFFECTIVE LEGAL FRAMEWORK FOR NILE RIVER BASIN: THE WAY FORWARD Presently, the legal framework for governing the allocation and utilization of the waters of the Nile River remains the Nile Waters Agreements, which have been denounced and rejected by virtually all the upstream riparian States. The latter argue that the existing legal framework promotes inequity and unfairness in the allocation of the waters of the Nile River. These States, led by Ethiopia, which provides more than 80 percent of the water that flows into the Nile River, want a new legal framework, one that promotes and enhances equity, fairness and reasonableness in the allocation of the waters of the Nile River.142 The way forward calls for the design of a new compact, one that is acceptable to all Nile River riparian States. The designers of such a legal framework must take into consideration the reasonable water and development needs of all the riparian States. Since the Nile Waters Agreements allocate virtually all of the Nile River’s waters to Egypt and Sudan and leave none to the other riparian States, such a legal framework is incompatible with the principles of equity and reasonableness, as well as with the development goals and interests of the upstream riparian States. It is not reasonable to expect the citizens of the upstream States to abide by rules that impose enormous costs on them and grant them virtually no benefits, infringe on their sovereignty, and constrain national development policies. Hence, the Nile Waters Agreements should be discarded in favor of a legal framework that reflects the values, interests and development goals of all the riparian States. Designers of a new legal framework must keep in mind that although Egypt does not provide any water to the Nile River, the lives of Egyptians and the country itself, have, for millennia, been totally dependent on the waters of the Nile and will continue to do so. Hence, for any legal compact for the regulation of the Nile River to be effective, it must take into consideration Egypt’s total dependence on the Nile River for sustenance. Compliance to any legal framework will depend largely on the willingness of all relevant stakeholders to voluntarily respect and accept it. How the compact is designed is important—it is more likely that stakeholders will accept and respect a new legal framework if it is designed through an inclusive and participatory process. It is only through such robust participation that the designers can produce a legal framework that reflects and, respects the interests of all riparians—both upstream and downstream. While the Nile River riparians may seek guidance in international watercourse law,143 it is important to make clear that an effective legal framework for the Nile River must be developed by these countries themselves and must not be one imposed by external actors (including colonial rulers). Not only must the governments of all the riparian States participate in the negotiations to produce the legal framework, but other 7 relevant stakeholders, specifically the communities located along the banks of the Nile and its tributaries, must be provided the facilities to participate fully and effectively in the development and adoption of the legal framework. Such a participatory and bottom-up process will make certain that the outcome is a legal framework that reflects the values, interests, and development needs of all the stakeholders. But, what about the CFA? If the upstream riparian States that have signed the CFA successfully ratify it and subsequently make it functional as prescribed by Article 42,144 the Nile River Basin’s governance crisis would still remain unresolved. Two legal regimes will exist side-by-side—the Nile Waters Agreements, which grant Egypt and Sudan virtually all of the waters of the Nile River based on so-called historically-acquired rights, and the other, the CFA, which calls for a new formula for water allocation based on “equity, reasonableness, and fairness.” None of these two legal regimes is acceptable to all the Nile River’s riparian States. Hence, the way forward calls for all Nile riparians to fully resolve the conflict that prevents them from producing a legal framework that is acceptable to all of them. The colonial-era legal regime that is totally obsolete, anachronistic, one-sided, and dysfunctional must be abandoned. In addition, the upstream riparians must recognize the vulnerable position that Egypt finds itself in with respect to access to the waters of the Nile River. Understanding and appreciating the needs of both parties will enhance their ability to design and adopt a legal framework acceptable to all stakeholders. John Mukum Mbaku is Brady Presidential Distinguished Professor of Economics and Willard L. Eccles Professor of Economics & John S. Hinckley Research Fellow at Weber State University. He is also a Nonresident Senior Research Fellow at the Brookings Institution, Washington, D.C., and an Attorney and Counselor at Law (licensed in Utah). He received the J.D. degree and Graduate Certificate in Environmental and Natural Resources Law from the S.J. Quinney College of Law, University of Utah, where he was Managing Editor, Journal of Land, Resources & Environmental Law, and the Ph.D. (economics) degree from the University of Georgia. *** 1 See, e.g., A. MORET, THE NILE AND EGYPTIAN CIVILIZATION (2001) (examining the relationship between the Nile River and the evolution of the Egyptian nation). 2 E.g., The 1902 Anglo-Ethiopian Treaty; The 1925 AngloItalian Treaty; The 1929 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty; The 1959 Bilateral Agreement between Egypt and Sudan. 3 See Anglo-Egyptian Treaty, 1929 and 1959 Bilateral Agreement between Egypt and Sudan. 4 The upstream riparian States are Rwanda, Burundi, Democratic Republic of Congo, Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda, Ethiopia, and Eritrea. Since becoming an independent country in 2011, South Sudan has generally sided with the upstream riparians. 5 and the 1959 Notably the 1929 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty Bilateral Agreement between Egypt and Sudan. 6 For an introduction to water conflict in the Nile River Basin, see generally D. A. Caponera, Legal Aspects of the Transboundary River Basins in the Middle East: The Al Asi (Orontes), The Jordan and The Nile, 33 NAT. RESOURCES J. 629 (1993); Christina M. Carroll, Note: Past and Future Legal Framework of the Nile River Basin, 12 GEO. INT’L ENVTL. L. REV. 269 (1999); J. Lautze & M. Giordano, Transboundary Water Law in Africa: Development, Nature, and Geography, 45 NAT. RESOURCES J. 1053 (2005); D. Kendie, Egypt and the Hydro-Politics of the Blue Nile River, 6 NORTHEAST AFRI. STUD. 141 (1999); Patrick Loch Otieno Lumumba, The Interpretation of the 1929 Treaty and Its Legal Relevance and Implications for the Stability of the Region, 11 AFRI. SOCIOLOGICAL R. 10 (2007). 7 See, e.g., Jeffrey Fleishman, The Nile, Egypt’s Lifeline in the Desert, Comes Under Threat, LOS ANGELES TIMES, November 12, 2012. 8 The 1929 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty and the 1959 Bilateral Agreement between Egypt and Sudan. 9 Exchange of Notes Between His Majesty’s Government in the United Kingdom and the Egyptian Government in Regard to the Use of the Waters of the River Nile for Irrigation Purposes, Cairo, May 7, 1929 (With Seven Diagrams), Treaty Series No. 17 (1929), H. M. Stationery Service Office, London (“AngloEgyptian Treaty, 1929”). See also Lumumba, supra note 6. 10 See Art. 4(ii), Anglo-Egyptian Treaty, 1929. 11 See, e.g., Anglo-Egyptian Treaty, 1929, supra note 9, at Art. 4(ii). 12 The Anglo-Egyptian Treaty, supra note 9. 13 The British Government specifically recognized those rights in the Anglo-Egyptian Treaty, at Art. 22. 14 This was essentially a bilateral treaty between Britain and Egypt. 15 See generally Valerie Knobelsdorf, Note: The Nile Waters Agreements: Imposition and Impacts of a Transboundary Legal System, 44 COLUM. J. TRANSN’L L. 622 (2005-2006). 16 See Art. 2, Anglo-Egyptian Treaty, 1929. 17 See Knobelsdorf, supra note 15. 18 See Art. 22 of the Anglo-Egyptian Treaty, 1929. 19 Knobelsdorf, supra note 15, at 627. See also R. SAID, THE RIVER NILE: GEOLOGY, HYDROLOGY AND UTILIZATION (1993) and THE NILE: ORIGIN, ENVIRONMENTS, LIMNOLOGY AND HUMAN USE (Henri J. Dumont ed., 2009). 20 Knobelsdorf, supra note 15, 627. See also Anglo-Egyptian Treaty, 1929, Art. 4(ii). 21 1959 Agreement is officially called United Arab Republic and Sudan Agreement (With Annexes) for the Full Utilization of the Nile Waters, Signed at Cairo, on November 8, 1959, 6519 U.N.T.S. 63 (“1959 Bilateral Agreement”). 22 The treaty’s title includes the following words: “For the Full Utilization of the Nile Waters.” See also the treaty’s “Preamble” and Art. 1, 1959 Bilateral Agreement. 23 This information is recited in Art. 1, 1959 Bilateral Agreement. 24 1959 Bilateral Agreement, Art. 2(3)-(4). 25 See Art. 1, 1959 Agreement & Art. 22, Anglo-Egyptian 1929. Treaty, 26 See, especially, the preamble to the 1959 Agreement. 27 Rwanda, Burundi, DRC, Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda, Ethiopia and Eritrea. 28 For example, through the Nile Basin Initiative. See generally Jutt Brunee & Stephen J. Toope, The Changing Nile Basin Regime: Does Law Matter?, 43 HARV. INT’L L. J. 105 (2002); Christina M. Carroll, Past and Future Legal Framework of the Nile River Basin, 12 GEO. INT’L L. REV. 269 (1999). 8 29 The 1929 Agreement and the 1959 Agreement are collectively referred to as “The Nile Waters Agreements.” 30 See generally Carroll, supra note 28. 31 Id. 32 Quoted in M. Pflanz, Egypt, Sudan Locks Horns with Lower Africa over Control of the Nile River, CHRISTIAN SCIENCE MONITOR, June 4, 2010. Egypt and Sudan have long argued that the Nile Waters Agreements are international legal instruments, which are binding on them. 33 D. Kendie, Egypt and the Hydro-Politics of the Blue Nile River, 6 NORTHEAST AFR. STUD. 141, 147 (1999). Emphasis in original. Eritrea, an upstream riparian State, which, with significant help from Egypt, gained its independence from Ethiopia in 1991, has sided with Egypt and supported the latter in its efforts to protect and retain its so-called historically acquired rights. See generally Kendie, id. 34 Id. 35 Id. See also Knobelsdorf, supra note 15, at 630 & Carroll, supra note 28, at 279. 36 The Nile Waters Agreements consist of the Anglo-Egyptian Treaty, 1929 and the 1959 Bilateral Agreement between Egypt and Sudan. 37 See, e.g., Christina M. Carroll, Note: Past and Future Legal Framework of the Nile River Basin, 12 GEO. INT’L ENVT’L. L. REV. 269, (1999). 38 Id. 39 Both the 1929 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty and the 1959 bilateral Treaty between Egypt and Sudan set the stage for most of the conflict that now exists in the Nile River Basin regarding the allocation and utilization of the waters of the Nile River. 40 Carroll, supra note 37, at 281. For an examination of the “Clean-Slate” theory of treaty succession and the Nyerere doctrine, see generally R. Schaffer, Succession to Treaties: South African Practice in the Light of Current Developments in International Law, 30 INT. & COMP. L. Q. 593 (1981) & Valerie Knobelsdorf, Note: The Nile Waters Agreements: Imposition and Impacts of a Transboundary Legal System, 44 COLUM. J. TRANSN’L L. 622 (2005-2006). 41 Tanganyika (now Tanzania) was one of the colonies that Britain was supposedly representing when it signed the AngloEgyptian Treaty in 1929. Shortly after independence in 1961, then Prime Minister Julius Nyerere stated in a letter dated July 4, 1962, that “an agreement purporting to bind Tanganyika in perpetuity to secure Egyptian consent before undertaking its own development programs based on its own resources was considered to be incompatible with Tanganyika’s status as a sovereign State.” Excerpted in GEBRE TSADIK DEGEFU, THE NILE: HISTORICAL, LEGAL, AND DEVELOPMENTAL PERSPECTIVES—A WARNING FOR THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY 337 (2003). See also Carroll supra note 37, at 279. 42 Although Ethiopia was occupied briefly by Italian forces during World War II, it is the only African country that has never been subjected to colonial rule. 43 Carroll, supra note 37, at 279. 44 The treaty is officially called “Treaties Relative to the Frontiers Between Sudan, Ethiopia, and Eritrea, May 15, 1902, Eth.-Gr.Brt.-Italy (although it is also known as the Anglo of the agreement). Ethiopian Treaty of 1902, Italy was part For see generally Edward an interesting analysis of this treaty, Ullendorf, The Anglo-Ethiopian Treaty of 1902, 30 B ULLETIN SCH. ORIENTAL STUD. 641 (1967). 45 Knobelsdorf, supra note 40, at 630. Id. See also Carroll, supra note 37. 46 47 Yimer Fisseha, State Succession and the Legal Status of International Rivers, in THE LEGAL REGIME OF INTERNATIONAL RIVERS AND LAKES 177, 187 (Ralph Zacklin & Lucius Cafllish eds., 1981). 48 Knobelsdorf, supra note 40, at 635. 49 Carroll, supra note 37, at 282. 50 Id. 51 Id. 52 In addition to the fact that increases in population have meant that more food has to be produced, hence, demanding more water for an agriculture sector that is dependent almost entirely on irrigation, the demand for water for household use has also increased significantly. See generally THE NILE RIVER BASIN: WATER, AGRICULTURE, GOVERNANCE AND LIVELIHOODS (Seleshi Bekele Awulachew, Vladimir Smakhtin, David Molden & Don Peden eds., 2012). 53 UN Convention on the Law of the Non-Navigational Uses of International Watercourses, May 21, 1997, G.A. Res. 5/229, U.N. GAOR, 51st Sess., 99th plen. Mtg., U.N. Doc. A/RES/51/229(1997) (hereafter U.N. Watercourses Convention). 54 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, at Art. 4(1). 55 1929 Anglo-Egyptian Treaty & 1959 Bilateral Agreement between Egypt and Sudan. 56 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, Art. 5. 57 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, at Art. 5(2). 58 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, at Art. 6(1)(a)-(g). These factors include, but are not limited to, geography; hydrology; climatic conditions; past, present, and potential water uses; population; economic and social needs of each basin State; comparative costs of alternative means of meeting the economic and social needs of each basin State; availability of other resources; cost minimization in the utilization of the waters of the Basin; etc. 59 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53. Art. 7(1). 60 Id. 61 See Articles 5, 6, 7, U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53. 62 Stephen C. McCaffrey, Convention on the Law of the NonNavigational Uses of International Watercourses, U.N. Audiovisual Library of International Law, available athttp://legal.un.org/avl/ha/clnuiw/clnuiw.html (last visited on April 13, 2014). 63 Id. 64 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, Art. 8(1). 65 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, Art. 9. 66 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, Art. 9(1). 67 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, Arts. 11-19. 68 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, Art. 12. 69 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, Art. 12. 70 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, Arts. 13 & 15. See also Christina M. Carroll, Note: Past and Future Legal Framework of the Nile River Basin, 12 GEO. INT’L ENVTL. L. REV . 269, 285-286 (1999). 71 “Affected States” include both the “notifying States” and the “notified States.” U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, Art. 17(1). 72 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, Arts. 20-26. 73 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, Art. 21. 74 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, Art. 27. 9 75 U.N. Watercourses Convention, supra note 53, Art. 3(1). Christina M. Carroll, Past and Future Legal Framework of the Nile River Basin, 12 GEO. INT’L ENVTL. L. REV. 269, 286 (1999). 77 Id. 78 Id. 79 Id. See, especially Art. 3 of the U.N. Watercourses Convention, which allows for the development of regional watercourses legal frameworks that can co-exist with the U.N. Convention. 80 Carroll, supra note 76, at 287-288. 81 Egypt, Ethiopia, Rwanda, and Tanzania abstained from voting; the DRC and Uganda did not take part in the vote; Burundi voted against; and only Kenya and Sudan voted in favor. See, e.g., Carroll, supra note 76, at 287. 82 U.N. Convention on the Law of the Non-Navigational Uses of International Watercourses, Ratification Status, available at https://treaties.un.org/Pages/ViewDetails.aspx?src=IND&mtds g_no=XXVII-12&chapter=27&lang=en (last visited on April 13, 2014). 83 Carroll, supra note 76, at 287. For example, Ethiopia, Rwanda, and Sudan disagreed with Art. 32’s “nondiscrimination” clause. U.N. Watercourses Convention, Art. 32. 84 Carroll, supra note 76, at 287. 85 U.N. Watercourses Convention, Art. 6(1)(a)-(g). 86 Carroll, supra note 76, at 287-288. 87 These rights were recognized by Great Britain in the AngloEgyptian Treaty, 1929. See, e.g., Dereje Zeleke Mekonnen, The Nile Basin Cooperative Framework Agreement Negotiations and the Adoption of a ‘Water Security’ Paradigm: Flight into Obscurity or a Logical Cul-de-sac?, 21 EUR. J. INT’L L. 421, 432 (2010). 88 See generally Mekonnen, supra note 87; see also R. O. COLLINS, THE NILE (2002). 89 Stephen C. McCaffrey & Mpazi Sinjela, The 1997 United Nations Convention on International Watercourses, 92. A.J.I.L. 97, 100 (1998). Professor Stephen C. McCaffrey was the Chair of the ILC Working Group on the Draft Articles of the U.N. Convention on International Watercourses. 90 U.N. Watercourses Convention, Art. 6. 91 U.N. Watercourses Convention, Art. 6(g). It is not clear whether, in considering those alternative water resources, one needs to be cognizant of such things as the quality of the water. 92 Daniel Kendie, Egypt and the Hydro-Politics of the Blue Nile River, 6 NORTHEAST AFRICAN ST. 141, 141 (1999). 93 Christina M. Carroll, Note: Past and Future Legal Framework of the Nile River Basin, 12 GEO. INT’L ENVT’L L. REV. 269, 288 (1999). 94 U.N. Watercourses Convention, Art. 6(1)(c). In fact, as much as 96% of Egypt’s population depends entirely on and lives on the banks of the Nile River. See, e.g., Kendie, supra note 92, at 142. 95 See 1959 Bilateral Agreement between Egypt and Sudan. 96 Carroll, supra note 93, at 288. See also U.N. Watercourses Convention, Art. 6(1)(f). 97 Jutta Brunee & Stephen J. Toope, The Changing Nile Basin ’ L L. J. 105, 117 Regime: Does Law Matter?, 43 HARV. INT (2002). Specifically, three rivers—the Blue Nile (which drains Lake Tana), the Atbara and Sobat Rivers, provide the bulk of the water that flows into the Nile River. The rest of the Nile 76 River waters come from the White Nile, which originates in Lake Victoria. Id. 98 Art. 6 of the U.N. Watercourses Convention provides “relevant factors and circumstances” that must be used to determine if an international watercourse is being utilized equitably. “Water contribution” is not one of those factors. See also Christina M. Carroll, Past and Future Legal Framework of the Nile River Basin, 12 GEO. INT’L ENVT’L. L. REV. 269, 288289 (1999). 99 Art. 6(b), U.N. Watercourses Convention. 100 Art. 6(c), U.N. Watercourses Convention. 101 Art. 6(g), U.N. Watercourses Convention. 102 Art. 6(d), U.N. Watercourses Convention. 103 Art. 6(g), U.N. Watercourses Convention. 104 Carroll, supra note 98, at 289. 105 Art. 7(1), U.N. Watercourses Convention. 106 Art. 7(1), U.N. Watercourses Convention. 107 Carroll, supra note 98, at 289. 108 Id. 109 Art. 7(1), U.N. Watercourses Convention. 110 Carroll, supra note 98, at 290. Ethiopia has made such a claim. 111 See generally Daniel Kendie, Egypt and the Hydro-Politics of the Blue Nile River, 6 NORTHEAST AFRI. STUD. 141 (1999) & Dereje Zeleke-Mekonnen, The Nile Basin Cooperative Framework Agreement Negotiations and the Adoption of a ‘Water Security’ Paradigm: Flight into Obscurity or a Logical Cul-de-sac?”, 21 EUR. J. INT’L L. 421 (2010). 112 Carroll, supra note 98, at 290. 113 The NBI countries are Ethiopia, Sudan, Egypt, Tanzania, Eritrea, Kenya, Uganda, Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), Burundi, and Rwanda. After its independence in 2011, South Sudan became the eleventh riparian State. 114 Egypt and Sudan most likely agreed to participate in the CFA negotiations in order to protect or safeguard their rights, all of which had been acquired through the Nile Waters Agreements. 115 Mekonnen, supra note 111, at 428. 116 Id. 117 Id. See also Agreement on the Nile River Basin Cooperative Framework, infra note 118. 118 Agreement on the Nile River Basin Cooperative Framework, available at http://www.internationalwaterlaw.org/documents/regionaldocs/ Nile_River_Basin_Cooperative_Framework_2010.pdf (last visited on April 15, 2014). 119 Id. at Annex. See also Mekonnen, supra note 111, at 428. Emphasis added. 120 Mekonnen, supra note 111, at 428. Specifically, the job of resolving the conflict over Article 14(b) was within the purview of the Nile River Basin Commission and this was supposed to be completed within six months of its establishment. The original Article 14(b) states as follows: “(b) the unresolved Article 14(b) is annexed to be resolved by the Nile River Basin Commission within six months of its establishment.” 121 Alternative wording of Article 14(b) put forth by Egypt and Sudan: “14(b) not to adversely affect the water security and current uses and rights of any other Nile Basin State.” This is the Article 14(b) agreed to by all the upstream riparian States, but objected to by Egypt and Sudan: “14(b) not to significantly affect the water security of any other Nile Basin State.” 10 122 See Annex, Agreement on the Nile River Basin Cooperative Framework, supra note 118. 123 See the Anglo-Egyptian Treaty, 1929, and the 1959 Bilateral Agreement between Egypt and Sudan. 124 A. M. Ibrahim, The Nile Basin Cooperative Framework Agreement: The Beginning of the End of Egyptian HydroPolitical Hegemony, 18 MO. ENVT’L L. & POL’Y REV. 282 (2011). 125 This was the committee charged by the Nile River Basin riparian States with drafting the Cooperative Framework Agreement. 126 Ibrahim, supra note 124, 302-303. 127 Id. 128 Id. at 303. See also Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, Art. 59, available at http://www.worldtradelaw.net/misc/viennaconvention.pdf (last visited on April 16, 2014). 129 Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, Art. 59, supra note 128. 130 Id. at Art. 59(1). 131 Id. at Art. 59(1)(a). 132 The main disagreement is over Art. 14(b). 133 See Agreement on the Nile River Basin Cooperative Framework, Art. 14(b) and Annex. 134 Ibrahim, supra note 124, 304. 135 Article 42 states that “The present Framework shall enter into force on the sixteenth day following the date of the deposit of the sixth instrument of ratification or accession with the African Union.” 136 In 1929, the first treaty—the Anglo-Egyptian Treaty—to provide each Nile River riparian with a quantitative allotment of Nile River waters was passed. 137 Ibrahim, supra note 124, at 305. 138 The five countries are Ethiopia, Kenya, Uganda, Rwanda, and Tanzania. 139 Note that this is the version of the CFA that retains the Article 14(b) preferred by the upstream riparians but opposed by Egypt and Sudan. 140 See generally Machel Amos, South Sudan Rejects the Colonial Nile Waters Agreement, available at 141 Ibrahim, supra note 124, at 310. These fears may have proven prophetic with the decision by Ethiopia to construct a dam on the Blue Nile in the Benishangul-Gumuz Region of Ethiopia. Although the financing environment in the Basin has not actually changed, the Ethiopians have still proceeded with construction of the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD), hoping to source the funds primarily from local sources. See, e.g., Michael Hammond, The Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam and the Blue Nile: Implications for Transboundary Water Governance, University of Exeter (UK) Discussion Paper 1307, February 2013, available at http://www.globalwaterforum.org/2013/02/18/the-grandethiopian-renaissance-dam-and-the-blue-nile-implications-fortransboundary-water-governance/ (last visited on April 16, 2014). 142 Of course, the definition of “equity, fairness and reasonableness” that is acceptable to all Nile River riparian States would have to be agreed. 143 Law of the NonFor example, the U.N. Convention on the navigational Uses of International Watercourses. 144 It is assumed that this will occur without the participation of Egypt and Sudan. 11 The Indus Waters Kishenganga Arbitration: Minimum Flows, Data Exchange, and the Treaty that Holds it Together KRISTIAN CORBY I. INTRODUCTION The Indus Waters Treaty (“Treaty”) between India and Pakistan governs the use of water for six of the tributary rivers of the Indus River.1 These rivers originate in India, flow through the India controlled state of Jammu and Kashmir, across the Line of Control, the informal border between the counties that was established from a historic cease-fire line by the Simla Agreement of July 3, 19722, into Pakistan controlled Jammu and Kashmir, and into the Arabian Sea.3 The Treaty is unique in that it assigned the “full use and benefit” of the three Eastern Rivers to India, the Ravi, Beas and Sutlej Rivers, and the three Western Rivers to Pakistan, the Indus, Jhelum and Chenab Rivers.4 However, India retained the right to make use of the eastern rivers for certain purposes, including hydroelectric power generation.5 The Kishenganga/Neelum River is the subject of the Indus Waters Kishenganga Arbitration (“Arbitration”), and it is a tributary of the Jhelum, one of the rivers the Treaty assigned to Pakistan.6 Between 2004 and 2006, India began to show a “serious intent to move ahead with a [hydroelectric] project” on the Kishenganga/Neelum River.7 Pakistan objected to India’s project and on May 17, 2010 it submitted a “Request for Arbitration” pursuant to the Treaty.8 On February 18, 2013, the Court of Arbitration (“Court”) issued a Partial Award that affirmed India’s right to build the Kishenganga Hydroelectric Project (“KHEP”).9 However, the Court also recognized that India would be required to release a minimum flow of water from the KHEP to protect Pakistan’s rights and ensure the environmental health of the river.10 The Court left open the question of exactly how much water would need to be released, and asked both Parties to submit comprehensive information on both environmental and hydroelectric flows.11 In the Court’s Final Award, it determined that India would be required to release a minimum of 9 cubic meters per second (“cumecs”) of water when the flow behind the KHEP was equal to or more than 9 cumecs. This ruling established as a baseline that the release of a minimum flow may satisfy an upstream state’s duty to mitigate substantial environmental harm to a downstream state. This rule must be considered by nations that plan to build hydroelectric projects on international watercourses. This paper will discuss the effect of the Indus Waters Kishenganga Arbitration on the Indus Waters Treaty and the management of the Indus River by India and Pakistan, and the Arbitration’s implications for the development of future hydroelectric projects on international watercourses. First, the paper will provide a historical perspective of the establishment of the countries of India and Pakistan, and the negotiation of the Indus Waters Treaty. Second, the paper will discuss the history of the dispute the Kishenganga Hydroelectric Project. Third, the paper over E will discuss the finding of priority for the KHEP and the minimum flow requirement in the Court’s Partial Award. Fourth, it will analyze the major decisions in the Court’s Final Award, and the balance it struck between application of customary international law and the authority of the Treaty. Finally, the paper will conclude with a recommendation to improve exchange of quality assured data between the Parties and the implications of minimum flow for states with international watercourses. A. A Brief History of India, Pakistan, and Jammu and Kashmir Prior to British colonization, the territory that is now known as India and Pakistan was ruled by a number of sultans and emperors.12 Muslims took control of Delhi in 1192, and an evolution of Muslim dynasties ruled the Sub-continent until 1857.13 The Muslim rule came to an end when the British East India Company defeated the last resistance of Indian soldiers.14 India was a British colony for ninety years, until the British relinquished control on August 15, 1947.15 Prior to independence, social and political struggles between Muslims and Hindus led political leaders to suggest a partition of India between the two faiths.16 The Independence Act of 1947 established two independent countries to be known as India and Pakistan.17 During partition there was considerable conflict over which country would acquire the two largest states, Kashmir and Hyderabad.18 Kashmir is now known as Jammu and Kashmir, and it straddles the unofficial India-Pakistan border in the countries’ mountainous northern regions.19 At the time of partition Kashmir’s population had a Muslim majority and a Hindu ruler, and Hyderabad’s population had a Hindu majority and a Muslim ruler.20 India wanted both states, and Hyderabad in particular “occupied a special place in the sentiments of Muslim India.”21 Kashmir, on the other hand, “was [considered] an integral part of the Muslim concept of Pakistan.”22 The complexities of this situation was made worse by British authorities who moved the date to transfer power up by nearly a year, which rushed partition in a mere two and a half months.23 The haste with which power was transferred left those in control of the states with little time to negotiate their assimilation into a federal regime, and created chaos among the people.24 The chaos “led to mass murders, abductions, and arson in every district of the Punjab,” which is the region where the five tributaries of the Indus flow out the Himalaya.25 26 rivers.” Punjab literally means “the land of five “The matter leading of accession of states remained unsettled, to permanent conflict between India and Pakistan over of Jammu the state and Kashmir [and], resulting in repeated hostilities between the two neighboring countries.”27 The actual conflict over the and bloody region’s waters was predictable given the turbulent partition of the two countries. 12 Map 1: The Indus River Basin B. A History of Conflict Over the Indus River System Since the establishment of the two states there has been conflict over the use of the Indus River System. The first recorded dispute arose soon after partition in April of 1948 when India, or East Punjab, cut off the flow of water into Pakistan, or West Punjab.28 An extensive canal system had existed in Punjab since the mid-nineteenth century, and by cutting off the water, India had deprived millions of people and millions of acres of farmland of water.29 This conflict was a classic example of an upstream state “turning off the tap” to the downstream state, and it set the tone for the two states’ relationship to the watercourse. Fortunately, the two countries were able to resolve the dispute peacefully with India returning flow to the river the day before the two countries met to agree on a “Joint Statement.”30 Unfortunately, the peace did not last for long because a conflict arose shortly thereafter when Pakistan began planning a reservoir system that could have potentially flooded portions of Indian Territory.31 Pakistan even,31 eventually suspended the project, but this and other conflicts were a chronic problem for the region. India, Pakistan, and the World Bank recognized that continued conflict over the Indus River would obstruct both countries’ development. This recognition gave rise to a rare opportunity for cooperation. C. Negotiation and Conclusion of the Indus Waters Treaty The Indus Waters Treaty is a symbol of optimism and cooperation for Pakistan and India. Negotiation of the Indus and has proven to be a Waters Treaty took nearly a decade sturdy instrument for management of their shared watercourse. In August of 1951, the continued disputes prompted India’s Prime Minister, Mr. Jawaharlal Nehru, to the region and make a invite David E. Lilienthal to visit recommendation. Lilienthal had been the head of the Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA) and a progressive lawyer 13 lawyer in the United States.32 The TVA is a semi-autonomous federal agency in the United States. that was established to coordinate the development of the Tennessee River Valley.33 The Tennessee River is similar to the Indus River in that it flows across jurisdictional borders, albeit through six different U.S. states, not different countries. The TVA was part of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s New Deal plan to reinvigorate the country’s economy after the Great Depression.34 As the head of the TVA, Lilienthal coordinated the multi-state administration and development of the river’s hydroelectric dams.35 After Lilienthal visited India and Pakistan he wrote an article in which he recommended that the two states cooperatively manage the entire Indus River Basin and that the World Bank facilitate this coordination.36 On September 6, 1951, the World Bank proposed to assist the counties in developing a coordinated development strategy for the region, and both States accepted the offer.37 The World Bank approached the negotiations with the premise that the bank would secure investments for infrastructure projects that would improve water supply reliability and generate electricity. The first few years of negotiations were unproductive, with both sides proposing substantially different concepts.38 A turning point came on February 24, 1954, when the World Bank proposed a framework that would ultimately become the heart of the Treaty.39 The 1954 Proposal suggested dividing the six rivers that flow out of India and into Pakistan between the two countries. Pakistan would have “exclusive use and benefit” of the “entire flow of the Western Rivers (Indus, Jhelum and Chenab)” and India would have the same for the “entire flow of the Eastern Rivers (Ravi, Beas and Sutlej).”40 Dividing the rivers was, and remains, a unique component in treaties governing the use of an international watercourse, however, this division suited the troubled relationship between the countries. The negotiations continued for four more years, and largely centered on the language that would control India’s use of Pakistan’s Western Rivers.41 It was agreed that India would be obligated to “let flow” all the waters of the Western Rivers, except with respect to domestic use, non-consumptive use, agricultural use, and the generation of hydroelectric power.42 India’s right to generate hydroelectric power was restricted, however, by Annexure D of the Treaty. The Kishenganga Hydroelectric Project is located on a tributary of the Jhelum River, and therefore, Paragraph 15(iii) of Annexure D controls: “[W]here a Plant is located on a Tributary of The Jhelum on which Pakistan has any Agricultural use or hydro-electric use, the water released below the Plant may be delivered, if necessary, into another Tributary but only to the extent that the then existing Agricultural Use or hydro-electric use by Pakistan on the former Tributary would not be adversely affected.”43 Paragraph 15(iii) struck a balance between India’s right to develop the rivers in its sovereign territory and Pakistan’s “exclusive use and benefit” of the water flowing from the Western Rivers. The Indus Waters Treaty was concluded and s signed on September 19, 1960, and was signed by India, Pakistan, and the World Bank.44 The World Bank was a key third-party in negotiating the Treaty and keeping the two adversarial neighbors engaged in the process, and therefore, it is also a Party to the Treaty. The Treaty created the Permanent Indus Commission (the Commission) “to establish and maintain cooperative arrangements for the implementation of the Treaty.”45 The Commission consists of one commissioner from India and one from Pakistan; both commissioners are “high-ranking engineer[s] competent in the field of hydrology and wateruse.”46 Two of the Commission’s primary functions are to coordinate the exchange of hydrologic data between the countries and to provide any notice or response to notice that is required by the Treaty.47 The Kishenganga Arbitration was the first time in over fifty years since the Treaty was signed that the Parties had to resort to a court of arbitration to settle a dispute.48 This fact demonstrates that the Commission has been an effective means for administering the Treaty, and will play a key role in carrying out the Court’s Awards. II. DISPUTE OVER DUELING HYDROELECTRIC PROJECTS India and Pakistan conceived of hydroelectric projects on the Kishenganga/Neelum River at similar times. In 2006, India’s hydroelectric project, the KHEP, was redesigned to be a run-of-the-river plant within the meaning of the Treaty.49 A run-of-the-river plant does not store a substantial amount of water in a reservoir. Instead, as defined by the Treaty, the same volume of water received behind the dam in seven days must be released below the dam.50 The KHEP was designed to divert water from the river into a 23.5 kilometer (14.6 miles) long tunnel that descends 666 meters (2,185 feet) to a power generation station.51 The water passes through the turbines and is discharged into another tributary of the Jhelum called the Bonar Nallah, which flows into the Jhelum’s main stem.52 The KHEP is designed to generate 1,350 gigawatt hours of electricity by diverting up to 58.4 cumecs of water.53 Pakistan’s Neelum Jhelum Hydroelectric Project (“NJHEP”) is located on the Kishenganga/Neelum River downstream of the KHEP. Therefore, the NJHEP is upstream of where the Bonar Nallah connects to the Jhelum’s main stem.54 The water diverted by the KHEP would be diverted around the NJHEP and permanently reduce Pakistan’s ability to generate power.55 The NJHEP is also designed to divert water into a tunnel and generate power at a powerhouse at a lower elevation. The NJHEP’s tunnel is 30 kilometers (18.6 miles) long and has a capacity to generate 969 megawatts of power. The Parties were unable to settle their differences over the hydroelectric projects, so Pakistan made a request for arbitration on May 17, 2010.56 III. ASSEMBLY OF THE COURT OF ARBITRATION Pursuant to Article IX(5) and Annexure G of the Treaty, a seven member Court of Arbitration was assembled to decide the dispute over the use of the Kishenganga/Neelum River. and Professor Jan Two of the members, Judge Bruno Simma members, Judge Paulsson, were appointed by Pakistan and two Peter Tomka and Professor Lucius Caflisch, were appointed by 14 Map 2: The KHEP India.57 The other three members were chosen pursuant to Annexure G, whereby the Secretary-General of the United Nations was chosen to select the Chairman, the Rector of the Imperial College of Science and Technology in London was chosen to select the Engineer Member, and the Lord Chief Justice of England was chosen to select the Legal Member.58 Judge Stephen M. Schwebel was selected as Chairman, Professor Howard S. Wheater was selected as the Engineering Member, and Sir Franklin Breman was selected as the Legal Member.59 As a testament to the quality of both the dispute resolution process required by the Treaty, and the evenhandedness of the decisions, none of the members appointed by Pakistan or India dissented to the Awards. The Partial and Final Awards are sturdy landmarks for the Parties and for international law because they were issued by a unanimous Court. bearing on the Parties’ claims to the state of Jammu and Kashmir.60 The Court emphasized that the Treaty’s authors were very careful not to incorporate any language into the Treaty that would influence the rights of the Parties with respect to their territorial claims to Jammu and Kashmir.61 Instead, the Treaty is focused solely on the waters of the Indus River System.62 Therefore, the Court concluded that the “Partial Award does not—and cannot—have any bearing on the rights or claims that either party may maintain to sovereignty over the territory of Jammu and Kashmir.”63 The rights and obligations under the Treaty, however, extend to all waters of the Indus River System flowing though any of all territory of India and Pakistan, regardless of either party’s claim to territorial sovereignty.64 B. India’s Right to Divert Water from the Kishenganga/Neelum IV. THE PARTIAL AWARD A. Territorial Claims to Jammu and Kashmir The Partial Award was issued on February 18, 2013, and it is a detailed recitation of the history of the Indus Waters Treaty and the dispute over the KHEP. Furthermore, it includes an extensive analysis of the Treaty and customary international environmental law. The first issue the Court analyzed was whether the Treaty and the dispute over the KHEP had any The Court then turned to the issue of whether India’s KHEP is a permissible use of a river assigned to Pakistan under India may divert the Treaty. First the Court considered whether water from one tributary to another for the purpose of hydroelectric power generation. Generally, India is obligated to “let flow” the waters of the Western Rivers. However, India hydroelectric explicitly maintained the right to generate power, Annexure D and E of so long as it does so in accordance with the Treaty.65 Under Paragraph 15(iii) of Annexure D, India 15 Map 3: The KHEP and NJHEP is explicitly allowed to make intertributary transfers, and the Court reasoned that the scope of those transfers must include an amount of water that is necessary to generate electricity.66 In order to validate the right expressed in the Treaty the Court found that an intertributary transfer is allowed, and the amount of water that can be diverted must be commensurate with the right to generate hydropower. Thus, the Court concluded that India could divert consistently from the Kishenganga/Neelum in order to generate hydroelectricity at the KHEP site. C. Pakistan’s “Then Existing Use” Next the Court considered whether Pakistan’s NJHEP constituted a “then existing use” under the Treaty. If the NJHEP were found to be a preexisting use then India would have to take it into account when operating the KHEP. The Court adopted a two step approach whereby it would establish the “critical period” for when India’s intent to build the KHEP “crystalized,” and then determine whether the NJHEP could be considered a “then existing use” prior to that time.67 First, the Court found unpersuasive the litany of evidence from both Parties that their projects had crystallized in the 1980s and 1990s.68 Instead, the Court found that actions taken after 2000 were dispositive.69 The period from 2004 to 2006 was determined to be the “critical period,” and the Court found that ................. India had “demonstrated a serious intent” evidenced by concrete actions to make the KHEP a reality.70 Next, the Court found that Pakistan’s NJHEP project had not “crystalized” until after this period, and therefore, it was not a “then existing use.”71 Thus, the KHEP was given priority over the NJHEP to divert water from the Kishenganga/Neelum River.72 D. The Minimum Flow Requirement The Court found a basis for the minimum flow requirement by recognizing that India’s priority in right to divert water for the KHEP was subject to the constraints of Paragraph 15(iii) and customary international law. First, Paragraph 15(iii) gives India the right to construct hydroelectric projects on the Jhelum and its tributaries, but also requires that those projects avoid causing harm to Pakistan’s then existing uses.73 Pakistan’s right to the “exclusive use and benefit” of the Jhelum did not completely disappear when the Court found that India had priority to divert water for the KHEP. Instead, the Court reasoned that there was a tension between the two rights, and both had to be recognized or else one would be effectively read out of the Treaty.74 Therefore, the Court found that India would be required to release a minimum flow of water below the KHEP.75 16 Second, the Court found justification for the release of a minimum flow of water in customary international law. Under Paragraph 29 of Annexure G of the Treaty, customary international law can be used to interpret or apply the Treaty.76 The Court cited the Trail Smelter Arbitration and Principle 21 of the 1972 Stockholm Declaration for the broad proposition that states have a duty to avoid causing transboundary environmental harm to neighboring states.77 Next, the court cited the principle of “sustainable development” for the “need to reconcile economic development with protection of the environment.”78 Sustainable development is particularly important to this dispute because the Court struck a balance between India’s right to develop the Western Rivers and the duty to prevent any harm to Pakistan’s environment under customary international law. The Court went on to acknowledge the Iron Rhine arbitration for the principle “that States have ‘a duty to prevent, or at least mitigate’ significant harm to the environment when pursuing large-scale construction activities.”79 The Iron Rhine Arbitration applies to both autonomous state actions and to actions taken under a treaty, and therefore, is applicable to the Kishenganga Arbitration.80 The Court concluded that the release of a minimum flow from the KHEP was necessary to mitigate significant harm to Pakistan. Finally, the Court recognized that both India and Pakistan had already acknowledged that the release of a minimum flow was necessary to protect the environment.81 The Indian Ministry of Environment and Forests had already concluded its analysis and committed to releasing 3.94 cumecs from the KHEP because its national laws require the designation of a minimum flow below dams.82 Also, Pakistan acknowledged that it was conducting an analysis of the minimum flow that would be released below the NJHEP.83 The Court concluded that both countries “planned, built and operated [their hydroelectric projects] with environmental sustainability in mind,” and therefore, a release of a minimum flow was required.84 At this point, the Court recognized India’s priority to divert water for the KHEP, but also found that India must release a minimum flow of water to prevent environmental harm to Pakistan and protects Pakistan’s rights under the Treaty. However, the Court did not have enough information to decide what the actual minimum flow should be, so it requested that the each Party assemble submissions on the effect that different flow regimes would have on the environment and their respective hydroelectric projects.85 The Court acknowledged that a “precise rate of the minimum flow will be fixed” in the Final Award so that both countries will have “stability and predictability” with respect to the supply and availability of water in the Kishenganga/Neelum River.86 V. THE FINAL AWARD A. The Requirement of Data Exchange In preparation for the Final Award, the Court received voluminous submissions of hydrological data and analysis from the Parties. The Court acknowledged that the submissions were strikingly similar, but that the Parties’ estimates for very low flows at the Line of Control differed significantly.87 This variation was due to the lack of observations at the Line of Control and a limited amount of data from nearby sampling sites. The Court admitted that there was a lack of data for where it was needed most, which undercuts the certainty and accuracy of the courts determination of a fixed minimum flow.88 Whether or not the Final Award is scientifically accurate will need to be proven by improved hydrologic sampling and observations at the Line of Control. Under Article VI of the Treaty, the two countries are required to exchange daily flow data for the rivers, daily extractions or releases from reservoirs, and daily withdrawals, escapages, and deliveries from canals.89 Paragraph 2 of Article VI allows either Party to request “any data relating to the hydrology of the Rivers,” and requires the other Party to provide it “to the extent that [it is] available.”90 Generally, the data exchanged by Pakistan under the Treaty is the “raw data” collected at the sampling sites.91 The exchange of raw data became a point of contention because as a matter of practice Pakistan subjects its raw data to quality assurances and statistical analysis.92 Pakistan considered this quality assured data to be outside the scope of the type of data exchanged under the Treaty.93 Pakistan explained that the quality assured data could not be exchanged within the three month time limit provided in the Treaty, but suggested that India could have accessed the quality assured data for a fee.94 As noted above, upon request by one Party, the Treaty requires the exchange of “any data relating to the hydrology of the Rivers.”95 Pakistan admitted that “such quality assurance [is] standard practice,”96 and the Court agreed that “quality assurance…is consonant with best practices in the field of hydrology.”97 Further, the exchange and explanation of such data benefits both countries by improving management of the river system. Thus, considering that an exchange of quality assured data is an accepted practice in hydrology, and further falls within the Treaty’s obligation to exchange “any data relating to the hydrology of the Rivers,” it is curious that the Court merely “commends,” rather than requires, the Parties to exchange quality assured data in the future.98 The need for high quality science and an elevated discourse about the affects of water management decisions on the environment is a challenge faced around the world, and future decisions for water use on the Indus River ought to incorporate a preliminary exchange of quality assured data. B. The Parties’ Submissions: The Effect of Flow on the Environment and Hydropower Generation Pakistan completed a holistic assessment using an environmental model called Downstream Implications of Flow Transformation (DRIFT).99 DRIFT analyzes a comprehensive set of indicators including, hydrology, biology, sediments, and geomorphology, at a range of flow scenarios.100 The goal is to comprehensively assess the potential changes of different flow regimes on the complex interactions of the environment. Pakistan used seventeen flow to predict scenarios the effect of the KHEP on the Kishenganga/Neelum River, and concluded that a minimum flow of 20-40 cumecs was 101 India necessary to avoid significant harm to the environment. 17 criticized the DRIFT analysis for being a planning tool, and that the predictions were made by experts who were not familiar with the region.102 Furthermore, similar to the Court’s acknowledgments of a lack of data, the DRIFT model lacked the quality and quantity of data necessary to make its predictions accurate and useful.103 India had already conducted an assessment for minimum flow because its national law requires the release of a minimum flow for environmental reasons.104 India’s Ministry of Environment and Forests increased its recommendation from its previous analysis for a minimum flow from 3.94 to 4.25 cumecs. To address the Court’s request for submissions, India conduced a further study that focused on the water levels necessary to protect three fish species: the brown trout, snow trout, and Tibetan stone loach.105 India ruled out all other environmental factors because it argued that both Parties agreed the KHEP would not affect threatened species, birds, mammals, flora, or the human environment.106 India’s submission concluded that a minimum flow of as little as 2 cumecs would suffice to prevent any environmental harm because the fish species were adapted to the wide range of flow levels typical in the high Himalayan streams.107 Furthermore, most fish inhabited the smaller tributaries of the Kishenganga/Neelum that would not be affected by the KHEP.108 Pakistan criticized India’s approach for being “selective” because it only reported on the effect of flow levels for a few fish species, and suggested it ignored standard practices in hydrology to get results that were favorable to its position.109 Given the challenge of ascertaining a specific amount of minimum flow with a limited quantity of accurate data and two vastly different approaches provided by the Parties, the Court articulated four factors that should be used in the future for determining the correct approach of an environmental assessment: “[T]he correct approach will depend upon the existing state of the river, the magnitude of anticipated changes, the importance of the proposed project, and the availability of time, funding, and local expertise.”110 The Court concluded that a large project, like the KHEP, required an indepth assessment similar to Pakistan’s approach.111 The Court noted, however, that the merit afforded Pakistan’s assessment was uncertain given the lack of available data, the short time allowed for the study, and the lack of local familiarity of the experts conducting the study.112 The Court also criticized India’s analysis of the KHEP’s effect on fish species for failing to provide sufficient understanding of the complex river system.113 Given the increasing role that environmental assessments play in the resolution of legal issues, the Court’s four factors are useful parameters that countries can use to analyze the appropriate breadth of an environmental assessment with respect to the environmental effects on neighboring countries. C. The Court’s Minimum Flow Analysis The Court began by recognizing that, based on India’s submission, the average ten-day flow at the Line of Control reached 12 cumecs only nine times in thirty-four years.114 Due to the rarity of this occurrence, the Court found a flow of 12 cumecs at the Line of Control to be an “exceptional conditionally condition.”115 If the flow in the Kishenganga/Neelum above the Line of Control dropped below 12 cumecs then an average tenday flow of 12 cumecs at the Line of Control became much more common: 16% of the time at 9 cumecs and 30% of the time at 8 cumecs.116 Thus, the Court asserted, based solely on environmental concerns, that a minimum flow of 12 cumecs should be released from the KHEP.117 Next, the Court discussed the proper place of customary international law in an analysis of minimum flow for the KHEP. It recognized India’s right to priority to divert water for the KHEP, which includes the right to operate the KHEP effectively.118 Moreover, under the Treaty, the right to priority could not be abrogated by customary international law. Paragraph 29 of Annexure G provides that customary international law can be used “wherever necessary” to interpret or apply the Treaty, “but only to the extent necessary for that purpose.”119 The Court distinguished the Iron Rhine Arbitration because Paragraph 29 expressly limits the extent to which the Court could apply other sources of law.120 In this case, the Court limited its authority under customary international law to extend only as far as “mitigating significant harm” to Pakistan’s environment.121 The requirement of a minimum flow is necessary to mitigate significant harm, but the Court would not adopt a “precautionary approach,” play policymaker, or allow “environmental considerations to override the balance of other rights and obligations expressly identified in the Treaty.”122 The Court concluded that the Treaty limited the extent to which the Court could allow customary international law to dictate India’s right to divert water once it had established priority. Through the examination of flow data, the Court found that a minimum flow of 9 cumecs would “be sufficient to maintain natural flows” during the dry season.123 The Court laments that 9 cumecs may not be sufficient to effectively protect the environment, but that it is the proper balance between the rights outlined in the Treaty and obligations required under customary international law.124 If the Parties are not satisfied with the minimum flow determination, either Party may seek review of the minimum flow in seven years.125 VI. CONCLUSIONS The Indus Waters Kishenganga Arbitration was an impressive undertaking by the Court, and ultimately did justice to the Indus Waters Treaty. The Indus River System is massive, and over time, the effects of this decision will be felt throughout the region. A. Release of a Minimum Flow Satisfies the Duty to Mitigate Significant Harm to Downstream States The Court adopted a rule that sets a baseline for future environmental analysis. The rule that an upstream state must state allowed the “mitigate substantial harm” to a downstream Court to justify the requirement of a minimum flow. This rule is narrower than the rule set forth in the Trail Smelter Arbitration and Principle 21, which require states to “ensure to the environment of that activities … do not cause damage 126 the Court adopts the other States.” Instead, the rule from minimum level of environmental protection in Iron established 18 Rhine: mitigation of significant harm.127 The rule adopted by the Court is effective in identifying the minimum but required amount of environmental protection that is provided by customary international law. States that plan to build hydroelectric projects on international watercourses must consider early on that it is likely that a minimum flow is required by international law. B. Recommendation to Improve Data Sharing Although the Treaty requires the exchange of available hydrological data, upon request by either Party, the Court chose not to require, but rather, “commend,” the sharing of quality assured data. Had the Court required the exchange of controlled data it would likely have increased the level of scientific discourse between the Parties and improved the coordinated stewardship of their water resources. The two States have a long history of conflict, and improving data exchange would improve management of the resource, which in turn, would reduce the likelihood of conflict between the Parties. One reason for the Court’s approach may be that it did not want to instruct the Indus Waters Commission on its obligations under the Treaty, however, the benefits of improved data exchange outweigh the minimal sacrifice of the Commission’s autonomy with respect to this limited issue. Certainly, the need for better quality science and an elevated discourse about the affects of water management decisions on the environment is a challenge faced around the world, and future decisions for water use on the Indus River ought to incorporate a preliminary exchange of quality assured data. The Court also faced the challenge of setting an exact amount of minimum flow with inadequate data to guide its decision. It may be shown with more accurate data collection at the Line of Control that the scientific basis for the decision was inaccurate. However, by balancing the Treaty’s limits on the rights provided therein along with the application of customary international law, the Court not only delivered an equitable legal analysis but set a solid foundation for the obligation to release a minimum flow. Upstream states now have the baseline of minimum flows to consider when planning hydroelectric projects or other diversions, and assessing how to mitigate substantial harm to downstream states. Moreover, downstream states could assert a right to a minimum flow in order to prevent a certain degree of environmental harm. The Awards of the Kishenganga Arbitration are sturdy and evenhanded extensions of the Indus Waters Treaty, and clarified India’s and Pakistan’s obligations to their shared watercourse. Kristian Corby is an associate at King Williams & Gleason, LLP in Sacramento, California and Water Law Fellow at the University of the Pacific, McGeorge School of Law. He can be reached at [email protected]. *** Indus Waters Treaty 1960 Between the Government of India, the Government of Pakistan and the International Bank of Reconstruction and Development, 19 September 1960, 419 U.N.T.S. 126 (hereinafter Indus Waters Treaty). 1 2 Simla Agreement, 2 July 1972, Jammu & Kashmir (April 20, 2014), www.jammu-kashmir.com/ documents/simla.html 3 STEPHEN C. MCCAFFREY, THE LAW OF INTERNATIONAL WATERCOURSES 289 (2007). 4 Id. 5 Id. 6 Id. at 42, para. 129. 7 In the Matter of the Indus Waters Kishenganga Arbitration (Pakistan v. India), Partial Award 166, para. 442 (Perm. Ct. Arb. Feb. 18, 2013) (available at http://www.pcacpa.org/showpage.asp?pag_id=1392) (hereinafter Partial Award). 8 Id. at 2. 9 Id. at 201. 10 Id. 11 Id. 12 HAMID KHAN, CONSTITUTIONAL AND POLITICAL HISTORY OF PAKISTAN 3-4, (2001). 13 Id. 14 Id. 15 Id. at 4, 43. 16 Id. at 34. 17 Id. at 43. 18 Id. at 44 19 See Map 1. 20 KHAN, supra note 12, at 44. 21 Id. 22 Id. 23 Id. at 45. 24 Id. at 44-45. 25 Id. at 45. 26 Professor Atamjit Singh Sardar, History of Punjab: Land of the Punjab, Punjab Online (April 7, 2014), http://www.punjabonline.com/servlet/library.history?Action=P age&Param=2. 27 KHAN, supra note 12, at 45. 28 MCCAFFREY, supra note 2, at 289. 29 RICHARD BAXTER, THE LAW OF INTERNATIONAL DRAINAGE BASINS, 452 (1967). 30 MCCAFFREY, supra note 3, at 289-90. 31 Id. at 290 32 David Ekbladh, ‘Mr. TVA’: Grass-Roots Development, David Lilienthal, and the Rise and Fall of the Tennessee Valley Authority as a symbol for U.S. Overseas Development, 19331973, Diplomatic History, Volume 26, Issue 3, 335-36 (2002). 33 Yale Law Review Company, Inc., Governmental Techniques for the Conservation and Utilization of Water Resources: An Analysis and Proposal, 56 Yale L.J. 276, 285-87 (1947). 34 Ekbladh, supra note 31, 336. 35 Id. 36 Partial Award at 44, para. 133. 37 Id. at para. 134. 38 Id. at 44, para. 135. 39 Id. at para 136. 40 Id.; See Map 1. 41 Partial Award at 45, para 137. 42 Indus Waters Treaty, Art. III(2), (2)(a-d). 43 Id. at Annexure D, Part 3, para. 15(iii). 44 Partial Award at 45, para 138. 19 45 84 46 85 Indus Waters Treaty, Art. VIII(4). Id. at Art. VIII(1). 47 Id. at Art. VIII(1)(a-b). 48 Partial Award at 41, para. 126. 49 Indus Waters Treaty, Annexure D, Part 1(2)(g), Part 3(15). 50 Id. at Annexure D, Part 3(15). 51 Partial Award at 50, para. 155; See Map 2. 52 Id. 53 Id. at 50, para. 155; 52, para. 157. 54 See Map 3. 55 Partial Award at 54, para. 160. 56 Partial Award at 49, para. 153. 57 Id. at 3, paras. 8-9. 58 Id. at para. 11. 59 Id. at 3-4, paras. 12-14. 60 Partial Award at 134. 61 Id. at para. 360. 62 Id. at 135, para. 361. 63 Id. at para. 362. 64 Id. at 137, para. 366. 65 Id. at 140, para. 376. 66 Id. at 141, para. 379. 67 Partial Award, 161, para. 435. 68 Id. at 163, para. 439. 69 Id. 70 Id. at 163, para. 440. 71 Id. at 166, para. 442. 72 Id. at 166-67, para. 442. 73 Id. at 168, para. 446. 74 Id. at 168, para. 446. 75 Id. 76 Id. at 168-69, para. 447. 77 The Trail Smelter Arbitration, 16 April 1938 and 11 March 1941, 13 R.I.A.A. 1905, at 1965 (hereinafter Trail Smelter Arbitration); Stockholm Declaration of the United Nations Conference on the Human Environment, 16 June 1972, UN Doc. A/CONF. 48/14/Rev 1, 3 (hereinafter Stockholm Declaration). 78 Case concerning the Gobčíkovo-Nagymaros Project (Hungary/Slovakia), Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 1997, p. 7, p. 78. 79 Partial Award at 170, para. 451; Arbitration Regarding the Iron Rhine (“Ijzeren Rijn”) Railway between the Kingdom of Belgium and the Kingdom of the Netherlands, Award, 24 May 2005, PCA Award Series (2007), para. 59 (hereinafter Iron Rhine). 80 Id. 81 Partial Award, p. 171-72, paras. 453-54. 82 Id. at 171, para. 453. 83 Id. at 171-72, para. 454. Id. at 172, para. 454. Id. at para. 455. 86 Id. at para. 457. 87 In the Matter of the Indus Waters Kishenganga Arbitration (Pakistan v. India), Final Award 32, para. 90 (Perm. Ct. Arb. December 20, 2013) (available at http://www.pcacpa.org/showpage.asp?pag_id=1392) (hereinafter Final Award). 88 Final Award at 32-33, para. 90; 37, para. 104. 89 Indus Waters Treaty, Art. VI, para. 1(a-e). 90 Id. at para. 2. 91 Final Award at 8, para. 23. 92 Final Award at 9, para. 23. 93 Id. 94 Id. 95 Indus Waters Treaty, Art. VI, Para. 2. 96 Final Award at 9, para. 23. 97 Id. at 33, para. 91. 98 Id. 99 Id. at 19, para. 54. 100 Final Award at 19, para. 54. 101 Id. at 20-21, paras. 56-58; 102-103, para. 102. 102 Id. at 25-27, paras. 67-69. 103 Id. 104 Id. at 23, para. 62. 105 Id. at 24, para. 65. 106 Id. at 23-24, paras. 63-64. 107 Id. at 24-25, paras. 65-66. 108 Final Award at 24-25, paras. 65-66. 109 Id. at 22-23, paras. 60-61. 110 Id. at 35-36, para. 99. 111 Id. at 36, para. 100. 112 Id. 113 Id. 114 Id. at 37, para. 103. 115 Id. 116 Final Award at para. 103. 117 Id. at para. 104. 118 Id. at 38, para. 108. 119 Id. at 39, para. 112. 120 Id. at para. 111. 121 Id. at para. 112. 122 Id. 123 Id. at 40, para. 113. 124 Final Award at 40, para. 113. 125 Id. at 41, para. 119. 126 Trail Smelter Arbitration and Stockholm Declaration supra note 77. 127 Iron Rhine supra note 79. 20 The Right to Water in the Case Law of the European Court of Human Rights CAROLINA DE MENDONÇA GUEIROS AND DAVID N. CASSUTO INTRODUCTION Access to potable water is an essential human need. Although international human rights instruments do not list a right to water as a fundamental human right, a number of international bodies have concluded that the right to water is an element contained in other recognized human rights.1 In addition, the European Court of Human Rights has interpreted several of the civil and political rights protected by the European Convention on Human Rights2 (“European Convention”), namely under Article 8, to include a right to water access and to water quality.3 However, the Court has interpreted that right very narrowly and leaves significant room for State discretion. Under Article 8(1) of the European Convention, “everyone has the right to respect for his private and family life, his home and his correspondence.”4 This article focuses on how the European Court has construed Article 8 to include a limited right to water. We first offer an overview of the Court’s “traditional” interpretation of Article 8, followed by an analysis of the manner in which the Court has expanded its interpretation to include water quality concerns. The insights provided by the Court could prove useful in non-European countries that recognize similar domestic rights, as well as by future applicants to the European Court looking to apply a human rights framework to water pollution issues. However, a true “right to water” remains unrecognized by the European Court. I. OVERVIEW OF ARTICLE 8 OF THE EUROPEAN CONVENTION The following overview of how the Court has applied Article 8 of the European Convention showcases the “traditional” concerns that are usually discussed under this provision. Adding environmental and, more specifically, water quality concerns to this list of issues has posed a challenge for the Court and for applicants seeking to advance cases based on these arguments. As stated above, Article 8 protects four dimensions of an individual’s autonomy: the right to respect for private life, family life, home, and correspondence.5 The case law of the European Court has identified the meaning of each of these dimensions. The Court has determined that “respect for private life” applies to a wide range of situations. Private life has been linked to the idea of allowing an individual to determine identity in cases involving the protection of a personal professional reputation6 and sexual identity,7 for example. Another meaning of the right to private life adopted by the Court stipulates that individuals have the right not to suffer interference with the way they choose to conduct their undue lives. 8 Undue interference can take various forms, such as the unauthorized taking of pictures of a minor,9 employers unauthorized engaging in excessive surveillance over the employees’ activities (e.g. DNA profiling of employees and camera surveillance),10 and unjustified withholding of an individual’s personal information by public authorities.11 In defining the scope of “family life,” the Court has not limited Article 8’s ambit of protection solely to married couples. Rather, it has extended protections to other de facto relationships, depending on factors including “whether the couple lives together, the length of their relationship and whether they have demonstrated their commitment to each other by having children or by any other means.”12 Examples of relationships that have been found by the Court to consist of family life are: children and grandparents;13 siblings;14 and parents and children born outside of marriage.15 The definition of “home”, according to the Court, is the place where an individual resides permanently or with which he has sufficient and continuous links. This may include holiday homes or second homes,16 and even business addresses in some circumstances,17 “Respect for the home” and for “correspondence” include a large set of situations, some of which are the right to access and occupation of one’s own home,18 the right of family members to succeed to a tenancy,19 protection against irregular seizure of documents in an attorney’s office,20 and the prohibition of unlawful obtaining of private communications by governments21 (understood as any communications in writing or by telephone in most cases22). The primary duty of States with respect to Article 8 is the negative obligation to not interfere with an individual’s private and family life, home and correspondence.23 Positive obligations may arise in cases where the State is called upon to actively protect the individual’s enjoyment of Article 8 rights,24 such as when the State must enact specific legislation to guarantee the enjoyment of the rights.25 However, State interference with Article 8 rights may be justified only if it is within the margin of appreciation given to national authorities when implementing the Convention. The margin of appreciation is a doctrine used by the European Court of Human Rights that recognizes that the European Convention is subsidiary to domestic legislation and that the Convention may be interpreted differently by the different State parties, which have flexibility to implement the Convention according to their own local circumstances.26 Permissible interferences within the margin of appreciation will be: 1) provided by law; 2) legitimate (in defense of a public interest, such as public health, national security, etc.); and 3) necessary in a democratic society.27 In analyzing cases of claimed violations of Article 8, the European Court usually engages in an interpretive process that can be summarized in a two-pronged test. 28 First, the Court will determine whether the complaint lies the scope of within Article 8(1), i.e. was there an interference with the applicant’s private or family life, home or correspondence? If such interference did occur, the Court then determines whether the State action was permissible under the Convention, Article 8(2) and within the margin of appreciation. The margin of appreciatio n appreciation analysis includes querying whether the interference allowed by law was legitimate, and necessary in a democratic society. If the answer to any of these requirements is “no” then Article 8 has been violated.29 II. ARTICLE 8 AND THE RIGHT TO WATER The European Court has emphasized on many occasions that an independent right to environmental protection does not exist under the European Convention and that, consequently, not every case of environmental pollution gives rise to a violation of the rights protected under the Convention.30 In cases of environmental pollution, the Court has similarly stated that it will only find an infringement of the human rights protected under the Convention when the pollution directly and adversely affects the enjoyment of those rights to an extent and intensity considered sufficient by the Court.31 Although this approach does not present a radically different jurisprudence from other Article 8 cases, it has been used by the Court to avoid addressing cases of environmental pollution that it deems less severe. The vast majority of the European Court’s cases regarding Article 8 interpret these rights within the more “traditional” framework of civil and political rights and, as noted above, that framework does not generally include concerns about water quality and access to water. Consequently, it has proven difficult for the Court to expand its Article 8 jurisprudence to include water pollution cases (or any other environmental concerns). III. DUBETSKA AND OTHERS V. UKRAINE: STATES’ OBLIGATION NOT TO INTERFERE WITH ACCESS TO WATER In Dubetska and Others v. Ukraine (2011),32 spoil heaps resulting from the operation of a State-owned coal processing facility were placed near the applicants’33 homes. Toxic substances from the spoil heaps infiltrated the soil and contaminated the ground and surface water, in addition to causing other environmental impacts.34 As a result, the applicants who used those contaminated streams for domestic purposes suffered significant health problems and were consequently deprived of drinking water.35 Applicants claimed that the state-owned company responsible for the coal plant did not provide safe water to them in a sufficient and reliable manner.36 They also alleged that the water problems caused complications in family relationships: the lack of clean water for washing caused difficulties in relations between spouses, and younger family members sought to move away in order to find better life conditions for their growing children.37 In addition, the applicants explained that their properties’ market values had been adversely affected by the contamination, and that they not be able to sell the properties without aid from the would State.38 The Court concluded that the evidence presented by the applicants was sufficient to establish that they had been residing for more than twelve years, since the ratification of the European Convention by the Ukraine,39 in an area unsuitable for residential living due to water pollution and other environmental hazards.40 The environmental nuisance was so severe that the Court declared it an interference with the applicants’ rights to private life, home and family life.41 21 The Court determined that the Ukraine did not achieve the proper balance between the interests of the petitioners and those of the community as a whole because it failed to either resettle the applicants or find other appropriate solutions for the situation the applicants had endured.42 In essence, Ukraine exceeded the acceptable margin of appreciation by failing to resettle the petitioners or address the environmental hazards effectively. One of the deciding factors in the case was that the applicants were denied access to fresh water for drinking and for domestic purposes. It can thus be inferred that an element of the right to family and private life includes a State duty not to interfere with the individual’s access to drinking and domestic water. The decision also indicates that if the State does interfere with that access, it must either resettle the affected parties or otherwise address the environmental harm.43 In the case of water pollution, addressing the environmental harm might include remediation of the polluted water sources, or the provision of a sufficient and consistent supply of water necessary for drinking and for the personal use of the affected people. The underlying discussion about the margin of appreciation afforded to the State in Dubetska indicates that the State is not obligated to choose a particular option to address the interference (remediation of the environmental harm, for example). Instead, the State can choose which solution to adopt in order to comply with Article 8. The unwillingness of the Court to mandate remediation of water contamination and other environmental pollution exemplifies the constrained approach it takes to environmental cases as well as the wide margin of appreciation granted to States. Nonetheless, the Dubetska case is seminal in that it begins to define certain boundaries to the margin of appreciation. The case makes clear that under certain circumstances, the Court considers that access to water is an element of Article 8 rights. It further makes clear that the Convention requires that if States interfere with such access, they must act to mitigate the situation in some manner. Dubetska established a negative obligation for States not to interfere with existing access to water. The margin of appreciation with respect to guaranteeing access to water may be wide, but the obligation to attend to the situation in some way is an important boundary established by the Court. IV. TASKIN AND OTHERS V. TURKEY: STATES’ POSITIVE OBLIGATION TO PROTECT ARTICLE 8 RIGHTS TRIGGERED BY SUBSTANTIAL FUTURE HARM In Taşkin and Others v. Turkey (2004)44 – another case dealing with water pollution – the State granted permits to a public company allowing the use of cyanide leaching in a gold extraction process.45 The applicants noted the significant risk of contamination that the extraction technique posed to the two facts raised by region’s groundwater.46 The Court found environmental assessments conducted in the domestic proceedings to be very important: “the region’s inhabitants use the groundwater; in the event of seepage, it could become in the area in polluted by toxic waste,” and that “rainfall is a common question will result in flooding,” which occurrence in the proposed tailing areas. 47 These were48deemed significant risks to human health and the environment. After examining the facts, the Court concluded that Article 8 is implicated if there exists a high likelihood – as determined by an environmental impact assessment – that pollution will affect the applicants’ private and family lives. Even if current levels of pollution do not seriously jeopardize the applicants’ health,49 the State’s positive obligation to protect individual rights under the Convention would nevertheless be triggered.50 After concluding that there had been an interference with the applicants’ enjoyment of their Article 8 rights, the Court emphasized that its analysis of domestic environmental decision-making processes under Article 8(2) included substantive and procedural aspects. First, the Court weighed the competing interests of the applicants in enjoying their right to private and family life against the public interest in having the gold mine and concluded that granting the permit did not serve the public interest, given the likelihood of future negative environmental repercussions from the mining operation.51 Second, with regard to the procedural aspect of Article 8 obligations, the Court decided that Turkey had not fulfilled its duties because it allowed the continued operation of the mine through a decision of its Council of Ministers that was never made public. This situation deprived the applicants of Article 8’s procedural guarantees52 – the right to participate in the decision-making process and to be informed and possibly challenge the authority’s final decision.53 A key point in the Court’s Taşkin decision was that a substantial future risk of interference with the right to private, family life, and home caused by the threat of severe environmental conditions was enough to constitute an interference with Article 8. There was no evidence of concrete water pollution affecting the lives of the applicants at the time of the complaint, but only an indication – according to environmental assessments presented during the domestic proceedings – that the use of cyanide in the gold mine operation would cause harm to the applicants in the future. That risk of future harm was itself sufficient to interfere with the enjoyment of Article 8 rights. V. CONCLUSION Dubetska and Taşkin provide important insights regarding the European Court’s view of how Article 8 can be employed to address water pollution issues under the European Convention. In Dubetska, the Court identified a right to be free from interference with drinking and domestic water supplies, and a negative obligation for the State not to interfere with this right. The Court concluded that if such interference occurs, the State must address it in some fashion. However, the Court was not willing to mandate a particular solution, finding instead that States have a wide margin of appreciation in deciding how to environmental issues that affect human rights protected handle under the Convention. The European Court’s approach represents a significant limitation for applicants looking to achieve water quality protection within the European human rights system, because applicants will not necessarily achieve an environmentally preferable option – such as the clean-up of water pollution. The ultimate decision on which solution to adopt – remediation of the environmental harm, resettlement and/or monetary compensation – is left to the State. 22 Taşkin presents a different avenue to address water quality challenges under a human rights framework. The Court decided that actual harm to the applicants caused by water pollution is not required to constitute a violation of Article 8. A strong indication that such harm will occur in the future, supported by an environmental impact assessment, is enough to trigger a positive obligation for the State to protect the individual’s rights to private and family life, and home. In addition, the Court identified a positive procedural obligation for States as part of the environmental decision-making processes: individuals specifically affected by the project in question have the right to participate in the decision-making processes conducted by domestic authorities. These cases reveal that using a human rights framework to address water pollution cases is possible but limited within the European human rights system. Although the European Court has identified positive and negative obligations for States under Article 8 with respect to access to water and water quality, addressing water pollution cases through Article 8 remains problematic. The European Court has consistently granted States a wide margin of appreciation and remains reluctant to order actual pollution remediation or otherwise halt polluting activities. It is ultimately left to States to choose an appropriate solution to interference with the enjoyment of Article 8 rights. Carolina de Mendonça Gueiros is an attorney at Silveira, Athias, Soriano de Mello, Guimarães, Pinheiro & Scaff Advogados. M.A. Columbia University, LL.M. Pace Law School, LL.B. Universidade Federal do Pará. David N. Cassuto is a Professor of Law at Pace Law School, Director of the Brazil-American Institute for Law & Environment, Distinguished Visiting Professor of Environmental Law, Williams College, and Visiting Professor, Federal University of Bahia (UFBA). *** 1 Committee on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights, General Comment No. 15, The Right to Water, U.N. Doc. E/C.12/2002/11 (November 26, 2002); Council of Europe, Committee of Ministers, Recommendation 14 (2001) of the Committee of Ministers to member States on the European Charter on Water Resources ¶ 5, 19; African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights, Free Legal Assistance Group, et al v. Zaire, Comm. No. 25/89, 47/90, 56/91,100/93 (1995). 2 Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms, Nov. 4, 1950, Europ.T.S. No. 5; 213 U.N.T.S. 221. 3 The right to private life, family life, home and correspondence (Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights) in Case of Dubetska and Others v. Ukraine, ECHR (2011), Application No 30499/03, Judgment (Merits and Just Satisfaction), and Case of Taşkin and Others v. Turkey, ECHR (2004), Application No. 46117/99, Judgment (Merits and Just Satisfaction). The right to property (Article 1 of Protocol 1 to the European Convention on Human Rights) in Case of Yldirir v. Turkey, ECHR (2011), Application No 21482/03, Judgment (Just Satisfaction). 4 “1. Everyone has the right to respect for his private and family life, his home and his correspondence. 2. There shall be no interference by a public authority with the exercise of this right except such as is in accordance with the law and is necessary in a democratic society in the interests of national security, public safety or the economic wellbeing of the country, for the prevention of disorder or crime, for the protection of health or morals, or for the protection of the rights and freedoms of others.” 5 Ivana Roagna, Protecting the Right to Private and Family Life Under the European Convention 11 (2012). 6 Case of Niemietz v. Germany, ECHR (1993), Application No. 13710/88, Judgment (Merits and Just Satisfaction). 7 Case of Christine Goodwin v. United Kingdom, ECHR (2002), Application No. 28957/95, (Judgment Merits and Just Satisfaction). 8 European Union Network of Independent Experts on Fundamental Rights, Commentary of the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European Union 79 (2006). 9 Case of Reklos and Davourlis v. Greece, ECHR (2009), Application No 1234/05, (Judgment Merits and Just Satisfaction). 10 European Union Network of Independent Experts on Fundamental Rights, Commentary of the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European Union 79 (2006). 11 Case of Gaskin v. United Kingdom, ECHR (1989), Application No 10454/83, Judgment (Merits and Just Satisfaction). 12 Case of X, Y, and Z v. the United Kingdom, ECHR (1997), Application No. 21830/98, Judgment (Merits), ¶ 36. 13 Case of Marckx v. Belgium, ECHR (1979), Application No. 6833/74, Judgment (Merits and Just Satisfaction). 14 Case of Boughanemi v. France, ECHR (1996), Application No. 22070/93, Judgment (Merits). 15 Case of Jolie and others v. Belgium, Eur. Comm. H.R. (1986), Application No 11418/85, Decision. 16 Case of Demades v. Turkey, ECHR (2003), Application No 16219/90, Judgment (Merits and Just Satisfaction). 17 Case of Niemietz v. Germany, ECHR (1993), Application No. 13710/88, Judgment (Merits and Just Satisfaction). 18 Case of Gillow v. United Kingdom, ECHR (1986), Application No. 9063/80, Judgment (Merits). 19 Case of Karner v. Austria, ECHR (2003), Application No. 40016/98, Judgment Merits and Just Satisfaction). 20 Case of Niemietz v. Germany, ECHR (1992), Application No. 13710/88, Judgment (Merits and Just Satisfaction). 21 Case of A.B. v. the Netherlands, ECHR (2002), Application No. 37328/97, Judgment (Merits and Just Satisfaction). 22 European Union Network of Independent Experts on Fundamental Rights, Commentary of the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European Union 84 (2006). 23 Article 8(2). 24 Roagna, supra note 5 at 11. 25 European Union Network of Independent Experts on Fundamental Rights, Commentary of the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European Union 95 (2006). 26 The margin of appreciation doctrine was first discussed by the Court in Handyside v. the United Kingdom (1976): “Consequently, Article 10 para. 2 (art. 10-2) leaves to the Contracting States a margin of appreciation. This margin is both to the domestic legislator ("prescribed by law") and given to the bodies, judicial amongst others, which are called upon to 23 interpret and apply the laws in force. (…) Nevertheless, Article 10 para. 2 (art. 10-2) does not give the Contracting States an unlimited power of appreciation. The Court, which, with the Commission, is responsible for ensuring the observance of those States' engagements (Article 19) (art. 19), is empowered to give the final ruling on whether a "restriction" or "penalty" is reconcilable with freedom of expression as protected by Article 10 (art. 10). The domestic margin of appreciation thus goes hand in hand with a European supervision. Such supervision concerns both the aim of the measure challenged and its "necessity"; it covers not only the basic legislation but also the decision applying it, even one given by an independent court.” Case of Handyside v. the United Kingdom, ECHR (1976), Application No 5493/72, Judgment (Merits), ¶¶ 48-49. 27 Article 8(2). 28 Examples of the interpretive process the European Court usually applies can be found in: Case of Gillow v. United Kingdom, ECHR (1986), Application No. 9063/80, Judgment (Merits), ¶¶ 43-58; Case of Niemietz v. Germany, ECHR (1993), Application No. 13710/88, Judgment (Merits and Just Satisfaction) ¶¶ 26-38; Case of Boughanemi v. France, ECHR (1996), Application No. 22070/93, Judgment (Merits) ¶¶ 31-45. 29 Id. 30 Case of Ivan Atanasov v. Bulgaria, ECHR (2011), Application No 12853/03, Judgment (Merits and Just Satisfaction), ¶ 66. 31 Id. at ¶ 66. 32 Case of Dubetska and Others v. Ukraine, ECHR (2011), Application No 30499/03, Judgment (Merits and Just Satisfaction). 33 “Applicants” and “petitioners” are the terminology used by the European Court to address the plaintiffs. 34 Id. at ¶ 15. 35 Id. at ¶ 25. 36 Id. at ¶¶ 26-27. 37 Id. at ¶ 29. 38 Id. at ¶ 30. 39 The violation of the applicants’ Article 8 rights began before the Convention was ratified by Ukraine, but it continued for more than twelve years after that date. Id. at ¶¶148-149. 40 Id. at ¶ 118. 41 Id. at ¶ 119. 42 Id. at ¶ 155. 43 Id. at ¶ 155. 44 Case of Taşkin and Others v. Turkey, ECHR (2004), Application No. 46117/99, Judgment (Merits and Just Satisfaction). 45 Id. at ¶¶ 17, 62, 71. 46 Id. at ¶ 23. 47 Id. at ¶ 27. 48 Id. at ¶ 26. 49 Id. at ¶ 113. 50 Id. at ¶ 113. 51 Id. at ¶ 117. 52 Id. at ¶ 125. 53 Id. at ¶ 119. 24 Where Two Rivers Meet: Realizing Indigenous Water Rights Through the Human Right to Culture CARINA ROSELLI I. INTRODUCTION Ángela Poma Poma is a 64-year-old descendent of the Aymara people, a 5,000-year-old indigenous community residing in the Andean altiplano of Peru.7 Ángela and her children own the Parco-Viluyo farm where they raise alpacas, llamas, and other smaller animals as their only means of subsistence.8 Their farm consists of 350 hectares (865 acres) of wetlands and grass pastures fed by the Uchusuma River.9 This land supports her farm and the farms of eight other families who practice traditional agriculture.10 In the 1950s, Peru began diverting the Uchusuma River away from Ángela’s indigenous land.11 The diversion deprived Ángela’s community wetlands of the surface water needed to sustain grazing pastures.12 The wetlands themselves survived on groundwater alone until the 1970s when the government drilled wells to draw the groundwater out of the land.13 The drilling caused the community wetlands to gradually dry out and considerably reduced the water supply to water collection points for human and animal consumption.14 Eventually, the lack of water made it impossible for Ángela’s indigenous community to raise their llamas in accordance with traditional Aymara agricultural customs and practices.15 By the 1980s, Peru’s water diversion activities had desiccated 10,000 hectares (24,710.5 acres) of indigenous Aymara pastureland, killing thousands of livestock and collapsing the community’s only means of subsistence.16 Ángela’s family fell into poverty and their ancient cultural practices died alongside their llamas. The International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) is an international human rights treaty that requires states parties to “respect” and “ensure” the civil and political rights of all individuals within the state’s territory and subject to its jurisdiction.1 The ICCPR obliges its 168 state parties to protect basic human rights like the right to life; gender equality; freedom from torture, slavery, and arbitrary detention; freedom of movement, religion, speech, assembly, and association; the right to a fair trial; the right to an effective remedy; and minority rights. Under certain circumstances, some provisions of the ICCPR have the power to carve out environmental rights. In particular, ICCPR article 27 prohibits states from denying minority persons the right to enjoy their culture in a community with other members of their group.2 Because indigenous groups constitute a minority, and because indigeneity often depends on access to natural resources, communities whose culture is indivisible from water can apply article 27 to progress the realization of their indigenous water rights. The United Nations Human Rights Committee, a body of independent experts, monitors implementation of the Covenant by reviewing state activities through mandatory reporting procedures. The Committee also publishes nonbinding “general comments” that clarify its interpretation of the rights protected under the ICCPR. In addition to these duties, the Committee is competent to examine interstate complaints and individual complaints against states that have ratified ICCPR article 41 and Optional Protocol I (respectively) regarding alleged violations of the Covenant. In states that have ratified Optional Protocol I, individual “authors” from afflicted indigenous groups (or their representatives) that have exhausted all available domestic remedies can submit a “communication” to the Committee alleging denial of their environmentally dependent cultural rights.3 The Committee can consider the author’s communication, and has the competency to publish binding “views” and recommendations on the matter in question. In the first successful case linking water to cultural rights under the ICCPR, the Committee expressed its views in Ángela Poma Poma v. Peru (2009) that state-sanctioned water withdrawal from indigenous land violates article 27 if the consequent lack of water caused “a substantive negative impact” on the community’s enjoyment of their economic and cultural rights.4 The Committee used a two-prong test to determine whether such a negative impact existed. First, the Committee considered whether the state afforded members of the indigenous community the opportunity to “effectively” participate in the state’s decision-making process regarding withdrawal.5 Second, the Committee considered whether water the indigenous community can continue to benefit from their traditional economy.6 II. ÁNGELA’S STORY ÁNGELA POMA POMA V. PERU (2009) In 2004, Ángela submitted a communication to the Human Rights Committee alleging that Peru’s water diversion activities violated several of her rights under the ICCPR, most notably article 17.17 Under article 17, Ángela alleged that Peru unlawfully interfered with her family’s life and activities by diverting the water necessary for practicing Aymara customs, social relations, and agricultural methods.18 She claimed that the lack of water seriously interfered with her community’s only means of subsistence and their desire to live on their traditional lands, and effectively obliged them to “change their way of family life” and “engage in an activity that is not their own.”19 The Committee found that the facts supported Ángela’s allegations, but determined that her complaint would be more appropriately considered under article 27, protecting the individual right to practice one’s culture in community with other members of a group.20 III. APPLYING ICCPR ARTICLE 27 TO ÁNGELA POMA POMA V. PERU overarching The Committee determined that the issue for diversion consideration was “whether the water operations which caused degradation of [Ángela’s] land violated her rights under article 27 of the Covenant.”21 To answer this question, …. the Committee first noted its past views that article 27 protects the rights of individuals to engage in economic and social activities endemic to the culture of the community to which they belong.22 The Committee added that its General Comment No. 23 on the rights of minorities under article 27 recognizes that one’s culture might consist of a lifestyle that is closely associated with territory and reliance on natural resources, and that this is particularly true for indigenous peoples.23 The Committee found it undisputed that Ángela was a member of an indigenous ethnic minority whose culture included an ancestral tradition of raising llamas as an essential element of the Aymara culture.24 At the same time, the Committee recognized that Peru could legitimately take steps to promote its economic development.25 General Comment No. 23 points out that “[t]he enjoyment of the rights to which article 27 relates does not prejudice the sovereignty and territorial integrity of a State party.”26 A state’s economic development, however, may not undermine the rights protected by article 27.27 The Committee explained that impacts of state action could not amount to denying a community its right to enjoy its own culture, but actions causing only a limited impact on the lifestyle and livelihood of persons within a community would not necessarily amount to denying protected rights under article 27.28 To determine the nature of the impact, the Committee refined the issue in Poma Poma to whether Peru’s water diversion activities had “as far as llama-raising is concerned . . . a substantive negative impact on the author’s enjoyment of her right to enjoy the cultural life of the community to which she belongs” and applied a two-prong test.29 First, the Committee expressed its view that the permissibility of state action substantially compromising or interfering with the culturally significant economic activities of an indigenous community depends on whether the state afforded members of that community the opportunity to effectively participate in the decision-making process regarding those actions.30 The Committee observed that Peru did not consult with Ángela or her community concerning the construction of wells affecting her property, and no member of the community had given their free, prior, and informed consent to Peru’s water withdrawals.31 Second, the Committee expressed that permissibility of state action affecting indigenous communities depended on whether members can continue to benefit from their traditional economy.32 Here the Committee acknowledged that Peru’s water withdrawal activities degraded 10,000 hectares (24,710.5 acres) of Aymara pastureland, killing thousands of livestock.33 Ángela was consequently unable to continue benefiting from her traditional economic activity.34 Therefore, the Committee expressed its view that Peru’s water withdrawal activities “substantively compromised” Ángela’s ability to enjoy her within the indigenous community to which she belongs, culture in violation of article 27.35 finding a violation of the ICCPR under article 27, the After Committee determined that Peru had also denied Ángela her right to an effective remedy for the state’s impermissible water withdrawal, in violation of article 2(3)(a). The Committee requested that Peru report on the effective remedy and reparations it will now provide to Ángela in light of the harm she sustained, and requested that Peru take necessary measures to prevent similar future violations of the Covenant.36 Frtrtemo. . 25 to prevent similar future violations of the Covenant.36 Furthermore, the Committee requested that Peru publish the Committee’s views and report to it the measures taken to give effect to those views within 180 days.37 IV. DIRECT APPLICATION OF POMA POMA TO THE ATACAMEÑO COMMUNITY OF CHIU CHIU, CHILE LUSION There are no known communications regarding infringement of water-dependent cultural rights currently under review by the Human Rights Committee. Still, other indigenous people could benefit directly from the precedent established in Poma Poma if their facts are analogous and their state has ratified or acceded to the ICCPR and Optional Protocol I recognizing the competency of the Committee to receive and consider individual complaints. In such cases, indigenous community members can submit a communication to the Committee alleging a violation of their human right to enjoy their culture together with other members of their group under article 27 of the ICCPR. For example, Chile has ratified the ICCPR and acceded to Optional Protocol I.38 Like Ángela in Poma Poma, the indigenous Atacameño community in Chiu Chiu, Chile also descends from the ancient Aymara people. Their indigenous culture has grown out of 10,000 years of history in the Atacama Desert, one of the driest places on earth. Like Ángela’s community, the indigenous Atacameño subsist on agriculture, raising llamas and cultivating carrots. The Atacameño depend on the Loa River to source the high volume of water associated with their traditionally sustainable agriculture practices. But, the water intensive needs and extraction activities of Codelco’s nearby Chuquicamata copper mine, owned by the National Copper Corporation of Chile (a state-owned entity), have contaminated and significantly reduced water flow in the Loa River. Reduced flow (and arsenic contamination) has significantly decreased the Atacameño community’s agricultural production and threatens the survival of their cultural identity. Consequently, many Atacameño people have abandoned their traditional sources of income and succumbed to poverty. Although no one from the Atacameño community has submitted a communication to the Human Rights Committee, they could, as long as the particular issue complained of is not under examination by another procedure of international investigation or settlement, and the author has exhausted all available domestic remedies. Because Chile is a state party to Optional Protocol I, the Committee can review individual complaints submitted by members of the Atacameño community (or their representatives), and make binding views and recommendations regarding Chile’s water extraction activities. Given the factual similarities between Ángela’s story and the afflicted Atacameño community, the Committee could directly apply the precedence established in Poma Poma to determine whether Chile’s mining operations have caused a “substantive negative impact” on an Atacameño individual’s ability to enjoy their water-based cultural life in the community to which they belong, in violation of article 27. complaint, the In reviewing a (hypothetical) Atacameño that the individual was Committee must first find it undisputed a member of an ethnic minority and that form of their particular subsistence agriculture was an essential element of their indigenous culture. Given the Atacameño community’s long history of raising llamas and cultivating carrots, it is likely the Committee would have no difficulty recognizing the individual’s agricultural traditions as a form of subsistence and an ancestral tradition. Recognizing that Chile can legitimately take steps to promote its economic development, the Committee would next attempt to balance the individual’s cultural rights enumerated under article 27 against Chile’s sovereign right to economic development. In Poma Poma, the Committee applied a twoprong test. Using that precedence, the acceptability of measures interfering with the culturally significant economic activities of a minority group depends on (1) whether its members have had the opportunity to participate in the decision-making process underlying those measures, and (2) whether its members will continue to benefit from their traditional economy.39 First, in Poma Poma, the Committee emphasized that participation in decision-making must be effective – requiring the free, prior and informed consent of community members – but shed little light on the Committee’s process for determining whether such participation had occurred (in Poma Poma, the Committee simply stated that it observed no consultation had occurred).40 If the Committee were reviewing an Atacameño communication, perhaps it might assess participation by considering Chile’s 2009 Universal Periodic Review (UPR) and the recent shadow reports submitted through the United Nations Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) for Chile’s 2014 UPR, held January 27 to February 7 of this year. During the interactive dialogue of Chile’s 2009 UPR, the Chilean delegation indicated that there was text under review to recognize in the country’s fundamental charter the multicultural nature of Chilean society and the collective and individual rights of indigenous peoples.41 Chile claimed that this text would specifically address protection of indigenous land and water resources, minority participation in decisionmaking processes and the promotion, of indigenous cultures and traditions.42 Chile emphasized, “this important step is the result of a wide-ranging process of national consultation with indigenous peoples.”43 Still, the 2009 UPR Working Group observed that Chile’s current consultation practices were insufficient and provided six paragraphs of recommendations for improved indigenous inclusion. Specifically, the Working Group asked Chile to “[i]mprove effective consultation with indigenous communities[,] . . . systematically consult with indigenous peoples before granting licenses for economic exploitation[,] . . . and strengthen efforts to find a solution that respects the land rights of indigenous groups and ensures legal protection of their human rights.”44 The Working Group’s recommendations indicate a history of failure to include minority indigenous community members in Chile’s decision making processes regarding the natural resources upon which those communities depend. More recently, in preparation for Chile’s 2014 UPR, the OHCHR submitted a Compilation report of its views and relevant information gleaned from treaty bodies, special procedures, the Chilean government, and other United Nations documents. This report included comments from the Special Rapporteur on the rights of indigenous peoples noting that “in the period 2009–2012, the State had made various efforts to pass legislation on indigenous consultation, although to date it 26 had not been possible to establish a mechanism.”45 The OHCHR’s Summary report of stakeholder submissions to the 2014 UPR also contained statements emphasizing that “[t]he lack of legal provisions governing the right of consultation does not relieve the State of its obligation to engage in prior consultations.”46 Notably, a shadow report jointly submitted by Comunidad Indígena Atacameña de Taira and Comunidad Indígena Atacameña (“Indigenous Community Atacameña”) San Francisco de Chiu Chiu, Calama, Chile asserted that “large scale public and private-sector copper mining operators . . . are ignoring indigenous peoples’ reports of negative consequences for their health and their cultural heritage.”47 Taken together, the recommendations of the 2009 UPR Working Group and the 2014 UPR reports of the OHCHR could demonstrate that, although Chile claims to include indigenous community members in its natural resource-related decision-making, their alleged measures of indigenous participation have not been “effective.” To meet the second prong of Poma Poma’s two-prong test, individuals from the indigenous Atacameño community in Chiu Chiu, Chile must show that Chile’s Codelco copper mining activities have forced them to discontinue benefiting from their traditional economy. This should not be difficult to demonstrate because, like Ángela’s community, the indigenous Atacameño subsisted on traditional agricultural methods that are now unsustainable because of Codelco’s water extraction activities on the Loa River.48 The lack of water has forced community members to abandon their Aymara agricultural customs and engage in nontraditional economic activities, while others have succumbed to poverty. In 2009, an Atacameño community leader said, “[w]ithout the river, there is no life,” and Atacameño people fear that the dwindling Loa River will make it impossible for them to pass their traditional agricultural practices down to their next generation, thereby ending the line of Atacameño cultural identity.49 Under these circumstances, the Committee might express its view that (1) Chile deliberately or effectively excluded community members from the decision-making process regarding state-sponsored mining operations affecting their indigenous land and water rights, and (2) the consequent lack of usable water now prevents the individual from benefiting from their traditional economy. Taken together, Chile’s actions would be deemed to have “substantively compromised” the individual’s ability to enjoy their culture together with other members of their group, in violation of article 27. Finding of such a violation could result in a request for remedy or reparations commensurate with the harm sustained, including greater access to usable water sources. Therefore, a complaining individual from the Atacameño community of Chiu Chiu, Chile could potentially realize their indigenous water rights by submitting a communication to the Human Rights Committee alleging a violation of their human right to culture under the ICCPR. V. INDIRECT APPLICATION OF POMA POMA TO THE MA’DAN COMMUNITY OF IRAQ’S SOUTHERN MARSHES In states that have not ratified or acceded to Optional Protocol I, recognizing the competency of the Committee to receive and consider individual complaints, indigenous relies upon community members whose culture substantially access to water could still benefit indirectly from the precedent established in Poma Poma. If their facts are analogous and their state is scheduled to come before the United Nations UPR, indigenous communities and supporting NGOs can submit shadow reports to the OHCHR demonstrating a violation of article 27 of the ICCPR and citing the Committee’s views in Poma Poma for inclusion in their Summary report of stakeholder submissions.50 Because the UPR is a powerful tool for compelling national and international accountability and progressing the realization of human rights, indigenous groups and NGOs could analogize Ángela’s story and the Committee’s views in Poma Poma as a foundation for calling upon member states to remedy infringement of indigenous water rights.51 For example, Iraq ratified the ICCPR in 1971, but has not yet acceded to Optional Protocol I.52 Iraq’s next UPR is scheduled for October 20-31, 2014.53 In southern Iraq, the indigenous Ma’dan (Marsh Arab) community descends from ancient Sumerians and Babylonians. Their 5,000-year-old culture subsists entirely on a water-based system of cultivated wetlands and traditional agricultural practices. Water buffalos are the keystone of Marsh Arab culture, providing food, cooking energy, labor, and crop fertilizer for other agricultural activities. During the 1980s, as part of an agricultural marshland reclamation program, and the early 1990s, as part of a state-sponsored ethnic displacement program, Saddam Hussein’s Baathist regime systematically drained and destroyed the Marsh Arabs’ indigenous wetlands.54 These activities effectively decimated the Marsh Arabs’ traditional, waterbased agricultural practices, forcing the displacement of nearly 300,000 Marsh Arabs into Iraq’s urban areas and refugee camps in neighboring states. Although Iraq has ratified several relevant international human rights treaties, the government has historically opposed ratification of human rights treaty-based complaint procedures. During its 2006 candidacy before the U.N. Human Rights Council, however, the newly formed Iraqi government pledged that “[t]he Iraqi Council of Representatives put within its first priorities the consideration of ratifying all Optional Protocols of the Human Rights Instruments,” including Optional Protocol I.55 The new regime also pledged that it would “exert its utmost efforts to guarantee the civil and political, social, economic and cultural rights for Iraqi people, including equality before the law without discrimination on any basis.”56 Given these pronouncements, indigenous groups and NGOs should advocate for Iraq’s ratification of Optional Protocol I as a demonstration of the new regime’s commitment to the progressive realization of human rights. In the meantime, the Marsh Arabs and supporting NGOs could submit shadow reports to the OHCHR for submission within its Summary report. By taking action through the UPR process, these groups would empower themselves by educating and engaging with the international community about the water and cultural rights infringements they face. This form of participation will promote a rigorous review of Iraq’s current activities both afflicting and supporting the Marsh Arabs’ water-based cultural rights.57 Furthermore, when reporting to the OHCHR, the Marsh Arabs can draft and submit their own recommendations for remedy based on the needs and experiences of their own indigenous community. These reports 27 can lead to a substantive dialogue between the Marsh Arabs, Iraq’s leadership, and the United Nations Human Rights Council that will facilitate and ensure Iraq’s support of the Marsh Arabs’ cultural rights. Because the UPR aims to support the views of all human rights treaty bodies including the Committee, the Marsh Arabs and supporting NGOs should include Ángela’s story and the Committee’s views in Poma Poma in their shadow reports as a foundation for calling upon Iraq to remedy infringement of the Marsh Arabs’ indigenous water rights. For the purposes of illustration, shadow reports should demonstrate Iraq’s violation of article 27 by theoretically applying Poma Poma’s two-prong test. First, as in Poma Poma, the violent acts of Iraq’s previous regime did not provide Marsh Arab community members the opportunity to participate in the decision-making process regarding water management within their lands; nor did the Marsh Arabs give their free, prior, and informed consent to forceful displacement. Second, as Ángela raised llamas the Marsh Arabs raised water buffalo as their primary means of subsistence agriculture and an ancestral tradition dating back more than 5,000 years. Iraq’s water diversion and marsh drainage activities desiccated the land and prevented the Marsh Arabs from benefiting from their traditional agricultural practices. In 1994, the U.N. Secretary-General described the impact of Iraq’s drainage operations on the lives of the Marsh Arabs: The sinking water level makes survival in the marshes more and more difficult, almost impossible. Because of the loss of water, the Marsh Arabs can basically no longer use their traditional boats. As the soils have dried out, the reed beds have died, thus depriving the tribespeople of their main material for building shelters and feeding their buffalo and cattle. . . . In addition to being deprived of food, construction materials, and means of transportation, there is almost no drinkable water left in any part of the marshes; in areas where there was still some water left, it had become salty or toxic owing to the fact that it had become stagnant.58 In 1995, Marsh Arabs reported that “fishing, buffaloherding and cultivating crops such as date palms, vegetables and reeds” was no longer possible and that “[t]he increased difficulty in finding drinking water has also made it impossible to live in their areas of origin.”59 Therefore, the water diversion activities of Iraq’s previous regime had a “substantive negative impact” on the Marsh Arabs’ enjoyment of their cultural life; a violation of ICCPR article 27, for which Iraq’s new regime remains accountable. Many organizations have worked tirelessly to facilitate restoration of Iraq’s southern marshes since the fall of the Baathist regime in 2003, but competition for resources and poor water management strategies continue to negatively impact the Marsh Arab community’s ability to benefit from their traditional economy and enjoy their own culture with other members of their group. Although this indirect application of the precedence established in Poma Poma cannot necessarily provide the Marsh Arabs with remedy or reparations for Iraq’s violation, presenting it to the UPR can bring their ongoing plight back to the world’s stage, accompanied by the Human Rights Committee’s declaration that state-sponsored infringement of indigenous water rights is impermissible under international law. Perhaps such internationalization of the sometimes-indivisible connection between water and culture as a human right can further progress the Marsh Arabs’ realization of their indigenous water rights. VI. CONCLUSION The Committee’s views in Poma Poma establish that the human right to culture enumerated under article 27 of the ICCPR can provide for the realization of indigenous water rights. Never before has a case successfully linked water to cultural rights under the ICCPR. The Committee’s views in Poma Poma could mark a new era of greater recognition for the interdependence of cultural rights and natural resources, and potentially provides a mechanism to achieve indigenous water rights withheld or usurped by state actors. As demonstrated by theoretically applying Poma Poma to the Atacameño community of Chiu Chiu, Chile and the Ma’dan community of Iraq’s southern marshes, affected individuals (or their representatives) could apply this mechanism, either directly or indirectly, to progress the realization of their indigenous water rights through the human right to culture. Carina Roselli is a recent graduate of Vermont Law School and the Yale School of Forestry and Environmental Studies. She can be reached at [email protected]. *** 1 ICCPR, art. 2(1), entered into force 23 March 1976. ICCPR, art. 27 “In those States in which ethnic, religious or linguistic minorities exist, persons belonging to such minorities shall not be denied the right, in community with the other members of their group, to enjoy their own culture, to profess and practise their own religion, or to use their own language.” 3 The Optional Protocol also requires that the alleged violation is not under consideration by another procedure of international investigation or settlement. In Ángela Poma Poma v. Peru (2009) at ¶ 6.2, the Committee pointed out that the Human Rights Council’s confidential complaint procedure does not constitute a procedure of international investigation or settlement within the meaning of Optional Protocol I. 4 Human Rights Committee, Communication: Ángela Poma Poma v. Peru, ¶ 7.5, U.N. Doc. CCPR/C/95/D/1457/2006 (24 April 2009). 5 Id. at ¶ 7.6. “Effective” participation requires more than mere consultation. The Committee requires evidence of free, prior and informed consent of the members of the community. 6 Id. 7 Id. at ¶¶ 1, 2.1, 2.2. 8 Id. at ¶ 2.1. 9 Id. at ¶ 2.1. 10 Id. 11 Id. at ¶ 2.2. 2 28 Id. 13 Id. 14 Id. at ¶ 2.2. 15 Id. 16 Id. at ¶¶ 2.3, 3.1. 17 Ángela alleged that Peru’s water diversion activities violated her rights under article 1(2) because Peru’s groundwater diversion degraded her community’s farmland to the extent of destroying their only means of subsistence, article 2(3)(a) because she was deprived her right to an effective remedy, article 14(1) because government authorities discriminated against her community as indigenous people when they ignored their arguments against Peru’s water diversion activities, and article 17 because Peru’s actions interfered with her family’s life and activities. 18 Id. at ¶ 3.3. 19 Id. As far as Ángela’s complaint alleged violations against her community as a whole, the Committee determined these issues were inadmissible because she cannot submit a communication through Optional Protocol I’s individual complaint procedure to assert a violation of her rights as “a people.” See ¶ 6.3. 20 Ángela Poma Poma v. Peru at ¶¶ 6.3, 6.4. The Committee found Ángela’s claims under articles 1(2) and 14(1) inadmissible due to the nature of the individual complaint procedure and the facts presented (respectively). 21 Id. at ¶ 7.1. 22 Id. at ¶ 7.3 (referring to Lubicon Lake Band v. Canada (1990) and Länsman v. Finland (1994 and 2005). 23 Id. at ¶ 7.2 (referring to Human Rights Committee, General Comment No. 23: the rights of minorities (Article 27), ¶¶ 3(2), 7, U.N. Doc. CCPR/C/21/Rev.1/Add.5 (4 August 1994)). 24 Poma Poma v. Peru, at ¶ 7.3. 25 Id. at ¶ 7.4. 26 General Comment No. 23, at ¶ 3.2. 27 Poma Poma v. Peru, at ¶ 7.4. 28 Id. 29 Id. at ¶ 7.5. 30 Id. at ¶ 7.6. 31 Id. at ¶ 7.7. In General Comment No. 23, the Committee observed that, in order for indigenous communities to realize their cultural rights, states may need to institute “positive legal measures of protection” and make a special effort to include such communities in decisions that affect them. See General Comment No. 23, at ¶¶ 3(2), 7. 32 Poma Poma v. Peru, at ¶ 7.6. 33 Id. at ¶ 7.5. 34 Id, at ¶ 7.7. 35 Id. 36 Id. at ¶ 9. 37 Id. at ¶ 10. 38 Chile ratified the ICCPR on 10 February 1972 (entered into force 23 March 1976) and acceded to Optional Protocol I on 27 May 1992 (entered into force 27 May 1992). Chile’s only declarations to either instrument have no bearing on the water rights infringements affecting the Atacameño community. 39 Ángela Poma Poma v. Peru, at ¶ 7.6. 40 Id. 41 Human Rights Council, Report of the Group on the Working Universal Periodic Review: Chile, ¶ 45, U.N. Doc. A/HRC/12/10 (4 June 2009). 12 29 42 Id. 52 44 Id. at ¶ 96(67). 43 Id. 45 Human Rights Council, Compilation prepared by the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights in accordance with paragraph 15 (b) of the annex to Human Rights Council resolution 5/1 and paragraph 5 of the annex to Council resolution 16/21: Chile, ¶¶ 69-70, U.N. Doc. A/HRC/WG.6/18/CHL/2 (7 November 2013). 46 Human Rights Council, Summary prepared by the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights in accordance with paragraph 15 (b) of the annex to Human Rights Council resolution 5/1 and paragraph 5 of the annex to Council resolution 16/21: Chile, ¶ 13, U.N. Doc. A/HRC/WG.6/18/CHL/3 (7 November 2013). 47 Id. at ¶ 79. 48 Francisco Molina Camacho, Competing rationalities in water conflict: Mining and the indigenous community in Chiu Chiu, El Loa Province, northern Chile, 33 SINGAPORE JOURNAL OF TROPICAL GEOGRAPHY 93, 100-02 (March 2012). Indigenous community members are quoted as saying, “I think that [only] 3 per cent of Chiu Chiu’s population does not live from agriculture” and “[o]ur [agriculture] production has been severely affected.” 49 Id. at 100-01. 50 See above reference to the shadow report jointly submitted by Comunidad Indígena Atacameña de Taira and Comunidad Indígena Atacameña San Francisco de Chiu Chiu, Calama, Chile. 51 See Joshua Cooper, Universal Periodic Review: A Potent Process for the Realization of Human Rights in Indigenous Homelands, CULTURAL SURVIVAL, (21 May 2014), http://www.culturalsurvival.org/publications/cultural-survivalquarterly/universal-periodic-review-potent-process-realizationhuman#sthash.xviP8bPJ.dpuf. Iraq ratified the ICCPR on 25 January 1971 (entered into force 23 March 1976). 53 At the time of publication, the deadline for stakeholder submissions for Iraq’s next UPR had passed, but the analysis is germane and indigenous groups/NGOs can apply this theory to any state that has not yet acceded to Optional Protocol I. 54 Under international law, the new Iraqi regime remains accountable for the human rights violations carried out by Saddam Hussein’s Baathist regime. 55 Pledges and commitments undertaken by Iraq before the Human Rights Council, as contained in the letter sent by the Permanent Mission of Iraq to the President of the U.N. General Assembly ¶ 24 (28 April 2006) available at http://www.un.org/ga/60/elect/hrc/. See also Human Rights Council, Summary record prepared by the OHCRC, Universal Periodic Review, Iraq, ¶ 58, U.N. Doc. A/HRC/WG.6/7/IRQ/2 (1 December 2009). 56 Human Rights Council, Summary record prepared by the OHCRC, Universal Periodic Review, Iraq, ¶ 58, U.N. Doc. A/HRC/WG.6/7/IRQ/2 (1 December 2009). See also Pledges and commitments undertaken by Iraq before the Human Rights Council, as contained in the letter sent by the Permanent Mission of Iraq to the United Nations addressed to the President of the General Assembly ¶¶ 18, 22, 23 (28 April 2006) available at http://www.un.org/ga/ 60/elect/hrc/. 57 In July 2013, Iraq named a portion of its southern marshes as the state’s first national park, but whether this proclamation will ultimately protect the Marsh Arabs’ water-based cultural rights remains to be seen. 58 U.N. Secretary General, General Assembly Note by the Secretary-General, ¶ 37, U.N. Doc. A/49/651 (8 November 1994). 59 Max van der Stoel, Report on the situation of human rights in Iraq, ¶ 50, U.N. Doc. E/CN.4/1995/56 (15 February 1995). 30 NOTES & ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The International Environmental Law Committee (IELC) of the ABA's Section of International Law (SIL) serves as a forum for the community of private practice, in-house, non-profit, academic and government lawyers practicing or interested in environmental law in an international dimension. It also serves as a resource for the exploration of developments in international environmental law and their implications for the practice of law, diplomacy, scholarship, and legal education. We coordinate with other Section committees to explore the relationship between international environmental law and other legal specialties such as human rights or international economic law, as well as relevant committees in other ABA Sections, particularly the International Environmental Law Committee of the Section of Environment, Energy & Resources (SEER). The IELC will present two programs at the Fall 2014 Section Meeting in Buenos Aires. These are the Uruguay-Argentina Paper Mill Dispute: A River Runs Through It and We Can’t Stop the Fire!: Impact of Environmental and Social Aspects on Current Investment and Financing Opportunities. Currently, we are soliciting articles for the Spring 2015 Edition of this newsletter, which will be a joint collaboration of the IELC, SIL Europe Committee, and SEER International Environmental Resources Law Committee. The theme of this edition is Climate Change and Water Law. We welcome your submissions! For a copy of the Call for Articles or to submit a proposal, please contact Fatima Ahmad ([email protected]). We invite you to share your enthusiasm for this exciting area of law and policy by participating in the Committee and its activities, including program events, year-end review, and newsletter. Please join us! For more information, questions, suggestions, or to get more involved with the IELC, please contact 2014-15 Committee Co-Chairs, Kim Smaczniak ([email protected]) and Renee Martin-Nagle ([email protected]). For more information or to get involved with SEER International Environmental Resources Law Committee (IERLC), please contact 2014-15 Committee Co-Chairs, Andrew Schatz ([email protected]) and R. Juge Gregg ([email protected]). *The views expressed in this newsletter are those of the authors and do not represent the policies of the American Bar Association, Section of International Law, Section of Environment, Energy, and Resources, IELC, IERLC, or employers of the authors. Printed copies of this edition are courtesy of Brons & Salas Abogados. Brons & Salas Abogados Maipù 1210 5ºPiso (C1006ACT) Buenos Aires Argentina