International law: Regime unchanged
Another difference between the Bush years and the age of Obama is that the latter has at least some regard for the rule of international law
In a joint newspaper article yesterday, the US president and British prime minister told the world that they would maintain their assault on an Arab country until its regime collapsed. The inclusion of the French president as a third signatory was less familiar, but a sense that the casus belli is being breezily redefined while stalemate takes hold on the ground is eerily reminiscent of 2003.
Libya, however, is not Iraq, as a close reading of the grand triumvirate's words makes plain. Barack Obama has been a reluctant warrior, and his chief purpose in signing the piece was not perverting an avowedly humanitarian campaign, but rather extending a low-cost lifeline to allies in Paris and London, who have been feeling politically isolated. Nato's air power has not yet proved decisive and, despite some confident claims at its Berlin summit, most of its members are reluctant to step into the space created by American reticence. The White House's caution was reflected in an op-ed that proposed transition from dictatorship not to democracy, but to the more fudgeable prospect of "an inclusive constitutional process".
Another difference between the Bush years and the age of Obama is that the latter has at least some regard for the rule of international law, and this was evident in painstaking drafting. It acknowledged that the legal mandate was about protecting civilians, and was explicitly "not to remove Colonel Gaddafi by force". Nonetheless, the trio said, removed he must be, not as the objective of the action but as an inescapable precondition to securing the humanitarian goals. The argument is reminiscent of Catholic teachings about the difference between sought moral consequences and those that are merely foreseen. There was no place for such nuance in the born-again certainties of George Bush. But changing war aims via Jesuitical distinctions is too clever by half.
For one thing it raises expectations that may be impossible to fulfil. All manner of military options are currently being considered which could change things on the ground rapidly, but for the moment the balance of forces appears to be stuck, and the allies ought not to narrow their options. Negotiation or partition would have their problems; but so too would a more full-throated deployment of force. It is too early to say which course will minimise the sum of Libyan misery. Even if Gaddafi does go in the end, as must be hoped, this might be as part of a deal that will never get done if his departure is made a precondition to the brokering.
The deeper anxiety is that the perception of mission creep will retard the greatest struggle of the lot – for international relations governed by the rule of law. Faltering advances have been made over the years since the second world war, as yesterday's conviction of two Croats for war crimes underlined, but progress was greatly set back by Iraq. The three leaders' careful drafting might have satisfied their own lawyers, but if critics at home and abroad feel caught out by the small print that can only undermine the campaign's legitimacy. Three Conservative and two Labour MPs yesterday demanded a recall of parliament, arguing that policy had moved on significantly without the Commons having a say. If similar resentment takes hold in the sceptical capitals which ultimately acquiesced in the unopposed security council vote, then a fragile consensus will shatter.
The current attorney general would do well to remember the damage done during the Iraq affair, when dubious interpretations of resolution 1441 were used to license the course the superpower was already set on. This created the sense that the UN's role was a fraud. Whether it has been right or wrong on Libya, it has proved capable of shared resolve, and shown it can have teeth. The new language of regime change may leave the council descending into accusations of bad faith – and the planet slipping back into a more lawless world.
Libya, however, is not Iraq, as a close reading of the grand triumvirate's words makes plain. Barack Obama has been a reluctant warrior, and his chief purpose in signing the piece was not perverting an avowedly humanitarian campaign, but rather extending a low-cost lifeline to allies in Paris and London, who have been feeling politically isolated. Nato's air power has not yet proved decisive and, despite some confident claims at its Berlin summit, most of its members are reluctant to step into the space created by American reticence. The White House's caution was reflected in an op-ed that proposed transition from dictatorship not to democracy, but to the more fudgeable prospect of "an inclusive constitutional process".
Another difference between the Bush years and the age of Obama is that the latter has at least some regard for the rule of international law, and this was evident in painstaking drafting. It acknowledged that the legal mandate was about protecting civilians, and was explicitly "not to remove Colonel Gaddafi by force". Nonetheless, the trio said, removed he must be, not as the objective of the action but as an inescapable precondition to securing the humanitarian goals. The argument is reminiscent of Catholic teachings about the difference between sought moral consequences and those that are merely foreseen. There was no place for such nuance in the born-again certainties of George Bush. But changing war aims via Jesuitical distinctions is too clever by half.
For one thing it raises expectations that may be impossible to fulfil. All manner of military options are currently being considered which could change things on the ground rapidly, but for the moment the balance of forces appears to be stuck, and the allies ought not to narrow their options. Negotiation or partition would have their problems; but so too would a more full-throated deployment of force. It is too early to say which course will minimise the sum of Libyan misery. Even if Gaddafi does go in the end, as must be hoped, this might be as part of a deal that will never get done if his departure is made a precondition to the brokering.
The deeper anxiety is that the perception of mission creep will retard the greatest struggle of the lot – for international relations governed by the rule of law. Faltering advances have been made over the years since the second world war, as yesterday's conviction of two Croats for war crimes underlined, but progress was greatly set back by Iraq. The three leaders' careful drafting might have satisfied their own lawyers, but if critics at home and abroad feel caught out by the small print that can only undermine the campaign's legitimacy. Three Conservative and two Labour MPs yesterday demanded a recall of parliament, arguing that policy had moved on significantly without the Commons having a say. If similar resentment takes hold in the sceptical capitals which ultimately acquiesced in the unopposed security council vote, then a fragile consensus will shatter.
The current attorney general would do well to remember the damage done during the Iraq affair, when dubious interpretations of resolution 1441 were used to license the course the superpower was already set on. This created the sense that the UN's role was a fraud. Whether it has been right or wrong on Libya, it has proved capable of shared resolve, and shown it can have teeth. The new language of regime change may leave the council descending into accusations of bad faith – and the planet slipping back into a more lawless world.
Glencore: Miner to major
If you haven't yet heard of Glencore, you will – and you certainly should, if only because your pension fund is likely to buy into the company soon
If you haven't yet heard of Glencore, you will – and you certainly should, if only because your pension fund is likely to buy into the company soon. The market value of the privately owned Swiss-based mining and commodities trading group, which is about to float up to 20% of its equity for the first time on the London Stock Exchange, may end up equivalent to something not far short of the whole GDP of Libya, at upwards of $70bn. This is a colossal event, and not just for the stock market. A company of this size cannot help but be a major market player, especially since Glencore has just revealed that it is the world's largest commodities trader, controlling 60% of the zinc market, 50% of the trade in copper, 45% of lead and a third of traded aluminium and thermal coal. Oh, and 3% of the world's oil and 9% of its grain too.
With China's insatiable demand for raw materials apparently ensuring that world commodity prices will remain high for a while to come, it is no surprise that Glencore will now generate the biggest ever flotation on the London market or that it is shortly likely to be the first listed company for 25 years to be catapulted straight into the FTSE 100. But its arrival will further increase the exposure to oil, gas and mining shares in the FTSE, which is fine while world trade routes stay open and as long as Glencore's mining investments in places like Colombia and Kazakhstan steer clear of the kind of environmental and political implosions that almost holed BP below the water line in the Gulf of Mexico a year ago. Still, with the former BP chief Tony Hayward now on the Glencore board, how could that happen?
The Glencore flotation also matters because of the sheer scale of the individual rewards that it will bring for those at the top of the company. Glencore's 485 existing employee shareholders are set to coin $100m each from the listing, of whom 65 elite commodity traders are in line for personal windfalls of more than $500m. Chief executive Ivan Glasenberg will sit at the top of this money mountain with a stake worth a cool $9bn. And you thought bankers had it good.
Glencore has come a long way since its early days under the fugitive oil trader Marc Rich. Nevertheless, its move into the market limelight from the secretive environment of Swiss company law marks a major change of regulatory and transparency obligation. Inevitably, banks, accountants and lawyers are falling over themselves to get a slice of the Glencore action – a slice worth around $275m. Pension funds and index trackers will follow. The public's money will soon be exposed. The Glencore flotation is a massive event. It affects everyone. At the very least, all those involved must do their due diligence inquiries and look before they leap.
With China's insatiable demand for raw materials apparently ensuring that world commodity prices will remain high for a while to come, it is no surprise that Glencore will now generate the biggest ever flotation on the London market or that it is shortly likely to be the first listed company for 25 years to be catapulted straight into the FTSE 100. But its arrival will further increase the exposure to oil, gas and mining shares in the FTSE, which is fine while world trade routes stay open and as long as Glencore's mining investments in places like Colombia and Kazakhstan steer clear of the kind of environmental and political implosions that almost holed BP below the water line in the Gulf of Mexico a year ago. Still, with the former BP chief Tony Hayward now on the Glencore board, how could that happen?
The Glencore flotation also matters because of the sheer scale of the individual rewards that it will bring for those at the top of the company. Glencore's 485 existing employee shareholders are set to coin $100m each from the listing, of whom 65 elite commodity traders are in line for personal windfalls of more than $500m. Chief executive Ivan Glasenberg will sit at the top of this money mountain with a stake worth a cool $9bn. And you thought bankers had it good.
Glencore has come a long way since its early days under the fugitive oil trader Marc Rich. Nevertheless, its move into the market limelight from the secretive environment of Swiss company law marks a major change of regulatory and transparency obligation. Inevitably, banks, accountants and lawyers are falling over themselves to get a slice of the Glencore action – a slice worth around $275m. Pension funds and index trackers will follow. The public's money will soon be exposed. The Glencore flotation is a massive event. It affects everyone. At the very least, all those involved must do their due diligence inquiries and look before they leap.
Unthinkable? Implement the Easter Act 1928
The act sets down that Easter Sunday must fall on a fixed day – the Sunday following the second Saturday in April
Three years ago, Easter Sunday fell on 23 March. This year, it is more than a month later, on 24 April. The lurching date of Easter – which since the fourth century has been set as the first Sunday after the first full moon following the spring equinox – has long been a source of mingled charm, irritation and, when (as this year) it falls exceptionally late, downright inconvenience to businesses, schools and the holiday season. There is, however, a remedy to hand. It takes the form of the Easter Act 1928, a prescient piece of legislation which is already on the statute book, ready and waiting for a government brave enough to issue the implementation order. The act sets down that Easter Sunday must fall on a fixed day – the Sunday following the second Saturday in April. The effect would be that Easter Sunday, instead of falling on any date between 22 March and 25 April as now, would fall in the narrower window of 9 to 15 April. This year, if the act had been in force, Easter would have been last Sunday – resulting in a decent working interval between it and the royal wedding. All this could happen if the government chose to do it. It is a myth that the churches have a veto; the act merely requires that "regard shall be had" to their opinion. Churches would rightly still be free to celebrate Easter on the day of their choice rather than over the public holiday – as the Orthodox church already does. The secular majority, however, would at last have an annual spring break that makes a bit more sense.
0 comments:
Post a Comment