Determining the applicable law of an arbitration agreement when there is no express choice of a governing law – Enka Insaat Ve Sanayi A.S. v OOO Insurance Company Chubb [2020] UKSC 38.

November 16, 2020/4 Comments/in Views/by Jonathan Fitchen

This brief note considers aspects of the recent litigation over the identification of an unspecified applicable law of an arbitration agreement having an English seat. Though the UK Supreme Court concluded that the applicable law of the arbitration agreement itself was, if unspecified, usually to be the same as that of the contract to which the arbitration agreement refers, there was an interesting division between the judges on the method of determining the applicable law of the arbitration agreement from either the law of the arbitral seat (the view favoured by the majority) or from the applicable law of the underlying contract (the view favoured by the minority). As will become clear, the author of this note finds the views of the minority to be more compelling than those of the majority.

In a simplified form the facts were that, in February 2016, a Russian power station was damaged by an internal fire. ‘Chubb’, insurer of the owners of the power station, faced a claim on its policy. In May 2019, Chubb sought to sue ‘Enka’ (a Turkish subcontractor) in Russia to recover subrogated losses. Enka objected to these Russian proceedings claiming that under the terms of its contract of engagement any such dispute was to be arbitrated via the ICC in England: in September 2019, it sought declaratory orders from the English High Court that the matter should be arbitrated in England, that the applicable law of the arbitration agreement was English, and requested an English anti-suit injunction to restrain Chubb from continuing the Russian litigation.

Neither the arbitration agreement nor the contract by which Chubb had originally engaged Enka contained a clear provision specifically and unambiguously selecting an applicable law. Though it was plain that the applicable law of the underlying contract would, by the application of the provisions of the Rome I Regulation, eventually be determined to be Russian, the applicable law of the arbitration agreement itself could not be determined as directly in this manner because Art. 1(2)(e) of the Regulation excludes arbitration agreements from its scope and leaves the matter to the default applicable law rules of the forum.

After an unsuccessful interim application in September 2019, Enka’s case came before Baker J in December 2019 in the High Court. It seems from Baker J’s judgment that Enka appeared to him to be somewhat reticent in proceeding to resolve the dispute by seeking to commence an arbitration; this, coupled with the important finding that the material facts were opposite to those that had justified judicial intervention in The Angelic Grace [1995] 1 Lloyd’s Rep 87, may explain Enka’s lack of success before the High Court which concluded that the correct forum was Russia and that there was no basis upon which it should grant an anti-suit injunction in this case.

In January 2020, Enka notified Chubb of a dispute and, by March 2020, had filed a request for an ICC arbitration in London. Enka also however appealed the decision of Baker J to the Court of Appeal and duly received its requested declaratory relief plus an anti-suit injunction. The Court of Appeal sought to clarify the means by which the applicable law of an arbitration agreement should be determined if an applicable law was not identified expressly to govern the arbitration agreement itself. The means to resolve this matter, according to the court, was that without an express choice of an applicable law for the arbitration agreement itself, the curial law of the arbitral seat should be presumed to be the applicable law of the arbitration agreement. Thus, though the applicable law of the underlying contract was seemingly Russian, the applicable law of the arbitration agreement was to be presumed to be English due to the lack of an express choice of Russian law and due to the fact of the English arbitral seat. Hence English law (seemingly wider than the Russian law on a number of important issues) would determine the scope of the matters and claims encompassed by the arbitration agreement and the extent to which they were defensible with the assistance of an English court.

In May 2020, Chubb made a final appeal to the UK Supreme Court seeking the discharge of the anti-suit injunction and opposing the conclusion that the applicable law of the arbitration agreement should be English (due to the seat of the arbitration) rather than Russian law as per the deduced applicable law of the contract to which the arbitration agreement related. The UK Supreme Court was thus presented with an opportunity to resolve the thorny question of whether in such circumstances the curial law of the arbitral seat or the applicable law of the agreement being arbitrated should be determinative of the applicable law of the arbitration agreement. Though the Supreme Court was united on the point that an express or implied choice of applicable law for the underlying contract usually determines the applicable law of the arbitration agreement, it was split three to two on the issue of how to proceed in the absence of such an express choice.

The majority of three (Lords Kerr, Hamblen and Leggatt) favoured the location of the seat as determinative in this case. This reasoning did not proceed from the strong presumption approach of the Court of Appeal (which was rejected) but rather from the conclusion that since there had been no choice of applicable law for either the contract or for the arbitration agreement, the law with the closest connection to the arbitration agreement was the curial law of the arbitral seat. As will be seen, the minority (Lords Burrows and Sales) regarded there to have been a choice of applicable law for the contract to be arbitrated and proceeded from this to determine the applicable law of the arbitration agreement.

The majority (for the benefit of non-UK readers, when there is a majority the law is to be understood to be stated on this matter by that majority in a manner as authoritative as if there had been unanimity across all five judges) considered that there was no choice of an applicable law pertinent to Art.3 of Rome I in the underlying contract by which Enka’s services had been engaged. It is true that this contract did not contain a helpful statement drawn from drafting precedents that the contract was to be governed by any given applicable law; it did however make many references to Russian law and to specific Russian legal provisions in a manner that had disposed both Baker J and the minority in the Supreme Court to conclude that there was indeed an Art.3 choice, albeit of an implied form. This minority view was based on a different interpretation of the facts and on the Giuliano and Lagarde Report on the Convention on the law applicable to contractual obligations (OJ EU No C 282-1). The majority took the view that the absence of an express choice of applicable law for the contract must mean that the parties were unable to agree on the identity of such a law and hence ‘chose’ not to make one. The minority took the view that such a conclusion was not clear from the facts and that the terms of the contract and its references to Russian law did indicate an implied choice of Russian law. As the majority was however unconvinced on this point, they proceeded from Art.3 to Art.4 of Rome I and concluded that, in what they regarded as the absence of an express or implied choice of applicable law for the contract, Russian law was the applicable law for the contract.

For the applicable law of the arbitration agreement itself, the majority resisted the idea that on these facts their conclusion re the applicable law of the contract should also be determinative for the applicable law of the arbitration agreement. Instead, due to the Art.1(2)(e) exclusion of arbitration agreements from the scope of the Regulation, the applicable law of the arbitration agreement fell to be determined by the English common law. This required the identification of the law with which the arbitration agreement was ‘most closely connected’. Possibly reading too much into abstract notions of international arbitral practice, the majority concluded that, in this case, the applicable law of the arbitration agreement should be regarded as most closely connected to the curial law of the arbitral seat. Hence English law was the applicable law of the arbitration agreement despite the earlier conclusion that the applicable law of the contract at issue was Russian.

As indicated, the minority disagreed on the fundamental issue of whether or not there had been an Art.3 implied choice of an applicable law in the underlying contract. In a masterful dissenting judgment that is a model of logic, law and clarity, Lord Burrows, with whom Lord Sales agreed, concluded that this contract contained what for Art.3 of Rome I could be regarded as an implied choice of Russian law as ‘… clearly demonstrated by the terms of the contract or the circumstances of the case’. This determination led to the conclusion that the parties’ implied intentions as to the applicable law of the arbitration agreement were aligned determinatively with the other factors that implied Russian law as the applicable law for the contract. Russian law was (for the minority) thus the applicable law of the underlying contract and the applicable law of the ICC arbitration (that, by March, 2020 Enka had acted to commence) was to take place within the English arbitral seat in accordance its English curial law. Lord Burrows also made plain that if had he concluded that there was no implied choice of Russian law for the contract, he would still have concluded that the law of the arbitration agreement itself was Russian as he considered that the closest and most substantial connection of the arbitration agreement was with Russian law.

Though the views of the minority are of no direct legal significance at present, it is suggested that the minority’s approach to Art.3 of the Rome I Regulation was more accurate than that of the majority and, further, that the approach set out by Lord Burrows at paras 257-8 offers a more logical and pragmatic means of settling any such controversies between the law of the seat and the law of the associated contract. It is further suggested that the minority views may become relevant in later cases in which parties seek a supposed advantage connected with the identity of the applicable law of the arbitration. When such a matter will re-occur is unclear, however, though the Rome I Regulation ceases to be directly applicable in the UK on 31 December 2020, the UK plans to introduce a domestic analogue of this Regulation thereafter. It may be that a future applicant with different facts will seek to re-adjust the majority view that in the case of an unexpressed applicable law for the contract and arbitration agreement that the law of the seat of the arbitration determines the applicable law of the arbitration agreement.

As for the anti-suit injunction, it will surprise few that the attitude of the Court of Appeal was broadly echoed by the Supreme Court albeit in a more nuanced form. The Supreme Court clarified that there was no compelling reason to refuse to consider issuing an anti-suit injunction to any arbitral party who an English judge (or his successors on any appeal) has concluded can benefit from such relief. They clarified further that the issuance of an anti-suit injunction in such circumstances does not require that the selected arbitral seat is English. The anti-suit injunction was re-instated to restrain Chubb’s involvement in the Russian litigation proceedings and to protect the belatedly commenced ICC arbitration.

The enforcement of Chinese money judgments in common law courts

November 13, 2020/in Views/by Maria Hook

By Jack Wass (Stout Street Chambers, Wellington, New Zealand)

In the recent decision of Hebei Huaneng Industrial Development Co Ltd v Shi,[1] the High Court of New Zealand was faced with an argument that a money judgment of the Higher People’s Court of Hebei should not be enforced because the courts of China are not independent of the political arms of government and therefore do not qualify as “courts” for the purpose of New Zealand’s rules on the enforcement of foreign judgments.

The High Court rejected that argument: complaints of political interference may be relevant if a judgment debtor can demonstrate a failure to accord natural justice in the individual case, or another recognized defence to enforcement, but there was no basis for concluding that Chinese courts were not courts at all.

As the court noted, complaints about the independence or impartiality of foreign courts might arise in two circumstances. Where the court was deciding whether to decline jurisdiction in favour of a foreign court, it would treat allegations that justice could not be obtained in the foreign jurisdiction with great wariness and caution.[2] Where the issue arose on an application to enforce a foreign judgment, the enforcement court has the benefit of seeing what actually happened in the foreign proceeding, and can assess whether the standards of natural justice in particular were met. Simply refusing to recognize an entire foreign court system would give rise to serious practical problems,[3] as well as risk violating Cardozo J’s famous dictum that courts “are not so provincial as to say that every solution of a problem is wrong because we deal with it otherwise at home.”[4]

The judge found that Chinese courts were distinct from the legislative and administrative bodies of the state, and that although there was evidence to suggest that Chinese judges sometimes felt the need to meet the expectations of the local people’s congress or branch of the Communist Party, this did not justify refusing to recognize the court system as a whole. In a commercial case resolved according to recognizably judicial processes, where there was no suggestion of actual political interference, the judgment could be recognized.

[1] Hebei Huaneng Industrial Development Co Ltd v Shi [2020] NZHC 2992. The decision arose on an application to stay or dismiss the enforcement proceeding at the jurisdictional stage.

[2] Altimo Holdings and Investment Ltd v Kyrgyz Mobil Tel Ltd [2011] UKPC 7, [2012] 1 WLR 1804.

[3] The judge noted that the House of Lords had rejected the argument that it should not recognize the courts of the German Democratic Republic (Carl Zeiss Stiftung v Rayner & Keeler Ltd (No 2) [1967] 1 AC 853), and the Second Circuit Court of Appeals was not persuaded that justice could not be done in Venezuela (Blanco v Banco Industrial de Venezuela 997 F 2d 974 (2^nd Cir 1993)). By contrast, a Liberian judgment was refused recognition in Bridgeway Corp v Citibank 45 F Supp 2d 276 (SDNY 1999), 201 F 3d 134 (2^nd Cir 2000) where there was effectively no functioning court system.

[4] Loucks v Standard Oil Co 224 NY 99 (1918).

The Contractual Function of a Choice of Court Agreement in Nigerian Jurisprudence (Part 2)

November 10, 2020/in Views, News/by Chukwuma Okoli

Introduction

In my last blog post, I made mention of a Nigerian Court of Appeal decision that applied the principle of contract law exclusively to a foreign jurisdiction clause.[1] In that case, applying the principles of Nigerian contract law, the Nigerian Court of Appeal held that the alleged choice of court agreement in favour of Benin Republic was unenforceable because the terms were not clear and unambiguous in conferring jurisdiction on a foreign forum.[2]

The purpose of this blog post is to analyse a more recent Nigerian Court of Appeal decision where the court gave full contractual effect to the parties’ choice of court agreement by strictly enforcing a Dubai choice of court agreement.[3]

2. Facts

Damac Star Properties LLC v Profitel Limited (“Damac”)[4] was the fall out of an investment introduced to the 1st plaintiff/respondent by the 2nd respondent allegedly on behalf of the defendant/appellant wherein the 1st plaintiff/respondent paid a deposit of 350,000.00 US Dollars for 9 apartments in Dubai and being 20% of the total cost of the apartments. The contract between the 1st plaintiff/respondent and defendant/appellant contained an exclusive choice of court clause in favour of Dubai. There was a dispute between the parties as to some of the terms of the contract. This resulted in the defendant/appellant selling the apartments to another buyer. The 1st plaintiff/respondent requested for a refund of the deposit that was paid to the defendant/appellant, but its request was declined. As a result of this, the 1^st plaintiff/respondent initiated a suit for summary judgment in High Court, Federal Capital Territory, Nigeria, against the defendant/appellant and the 2^nd respondent, and got an order to serve the defendant/appellant through the 2nd respondent, its alleged agent in Nigeria. At this stage, the defendant/appellant did not appear and was unrepresented in proceedings at the High Court. The High Court proceeded to hear the suit and entered judgment against the defendant/appellant with an order to refund the sum of 350,000.00 US Dollars with 10% interest from date of judgment till the judgment sum was fully liquidated. The defendant/appellant applied to the High Court to set aside the judgment, but the court dismissed the application.

3. Decision

The defendant/appellant appealed to the Court of Appeal. The Court of Appeal unanimously allowed the appeal. The Court of Appeal held on the basis of the exclusive choice of court agreement in favour of Dubai – which it regarded as valid – the lower court should not have assumed jurisdiction.

4. Judicial statements in Support of Damac

As stated in my last blog post, there is now a trend among appellate Courts in Nigeria (Court of Appeal and Supreme Court) to give choice of court agreements a contractual function. Damac Star Properties LLC (supra) is one of the cases where the Court of Appeal simply gives a choice of court agreement a contractual function without considering whether the choice of court agreement ousted the jurisdiction of the Nigerian courts, or whether Nigeria was the forum conveneins for the action.[5] This point is important, as it appears that there is now some movement in Nigerian jurisprudence towards giving choice of court agreements a contractual function. Given that Nigeria is a common law jurisdiction, it is worth quoting statements from some Nigerian Supreme Court and Court of Appeal judges that have given a choice of court agreements a contractual function.

Nnamani JSC opined that: “I think that in the interest of international commercial relations courts have to be wary about departing from fora chosen by parties in their contract. There ought to be very compelling circumstances to justify such a departure.”[6]

Tobi JSC observed: “The bill of lading contains the contractual terms [foreign jurisdiction clause] between the parties and therefore binding on the parties. Parties are bound by the conditions and terms in a contract they freely enter into… The meaning to be placed on a contract is that which is the plain, clear and obvious result of the terms used… When construing documents in dispute between two parties, the proper course is to discover the intention or contemplation of the parties and not to import into the contract ideas not potent on the face of the document… Where there is a contract regulating any arrangement between the parties, the main duty of the court is to interpret that contract and to give effect to the wishes of the parties as expressed in the contract document… The question is not what the parties to the documents may have intended to do by entering into that document, but what is the meaning of the word used in the document… While a contract must be strictly construed in accordance with the well-known rules of construction, such strict construction cannot be aground for departing from the terms which had been agreed by both parties to the contract… It is the law that parties to an agreement retain the commercial freedom to determine their own terms. No other person. Not even the court, can determine the terms of contract between parties thereto. The duty of the court is to strictly interpret the terms of the agreement on its clear wordings… Finally, it is not the function of a court of law either to make agreements for the parties or to change their agreements as made.”[7]

In Conoil Plc v Vitol SA,[8] the Supreme Court Justices were unanimous on the contractual effect of a choice of court agreement. Nweze JSC in his leading judgment stated that: “In all, the truth remains that if parties, enter into an agreement, they are bound by its terms.”[9] Okoro JSC concurred that: “The law is quite’ settled that parties are bound by the contract they voluntarily enter into and cannot act outside the terms and conditions contained in the said contract. When parties enter into a contract, they should be careful about the terms they incorporate into the contract because the law will hold them bound by those terms. No party will be allowed to read into the contract terms on which there has been no agreement. Any of the parties who does so violates the terms of that contract…. Having agreed that any dispute arising from the contract should be settled at the English court, the appellant was bound by the terms of the contract.”[10] Eko JSC also concurred that: “Where parties, fully cognizant of their rights, voluntarily elect and nominate the forum for the resolution of any dispute arising from their contract, with international flavour as the instant, the courts always respect and defer to their mutual wishes and intention. The courts only need to be satisfied that, in their freedom of contract, the parties negotiated and agreed freely to subject their dispute to the laws and country of their choice.”[11]

Owoade JCA held that: “…it is pertinent to observe that as a general rule in the relationship between national law and international Agreements, freely negotiated private international agreement, unsullied by fraud, undue influence or overwhelming bargaining power would be given full effect. This means that, where such contract provides for a choice of forum, such clause would be upheld unless upholding it would be contrary to statute or public policy of the forum in which the suit is brought.”[12]

In Beaumont Resources Ltd v DWC Drilling Ltd,[13] the Court of Appeal Justices were unanimous on the contractual effect of a choice of court agreement. Otisi JCA held that: “…it is settled that, in the absence of fraud, misrepresentation and illegality, parties to an agreement or contract are bound by the terms and conditions of the contract they signed… It is also well established that the Court cannot make contracts for the parties, rewrite the contract or go outside the express terms of the contract to enforce it…”[14] Sankey JCA concurred that: “The Court of law, on the other hand, must always respect the sanctity of the agreement of the parties – the role of the Court is to pronounce on the wishes of the parties and not to make a contract for them or to rewrite the one they have already made for themselves. The judicial attitude or disposition of the Court to terms of agreement freely entered into by parties to contract is that the Court will implement fully the intention of the contracting parties. This is anchored on the reasoning that where the terms of a contract are clear and unambiguous, the duty of the Court is to give effect to them and on no account should it re-write the contract for the parties. In the absence of fraud, duress or misrepresentation, the parties are bound to the contract they freely entered into.”[15]

The above judicial statements are replete with applying the principles of Nigerian contract law to the terms of a choice of court agreement. In essence, parties are bound by the clear and unambiguous terms of a choice of court agreement, which the Nigerian court will strictly enforce. On this score, Damac is on strong footing and unassailable.

5. Judicial decisions that might be against Damac

Some of the above stated judicial cases, though giving a choice of court agreement a contractual function also considered whether such agreements oust the jurisdiction of the Nigerian court, and whether Nigeria was the more appropriate forum to resolve such disputes despite the presence of a choice of court agreement. Damac is one of the few Court of Appeal cases that exclusively give a choice of court agreement a contractual function without a consideration of whether it is an ouster clause or the Nigerian Court is the forum conveniens.[16]

5.1 Ouster Clause

On the issue of ouster clause, in the early case of Ventujol v Compagnie Francaise De L ’ Afrique Occidentale,[17] Ames J held that in a contract of employment which was entered into in France to be performed in Nigeria, where the defendant also had agents (in Nigeria), the clause for submission of disputes to a Tribunal de Commerce de Marseilles (a French Court at that time) was an agreement to oust the jurisdiction of the court and of no effect. Similarly, in Allied Trading Company Ltd v China Ocean Shipping Line,[18] the plaintiff sought to recover damages for non-delivery of goods. The defendant entered an unconditional appearance, admitted the goods were lost, and denied liability on the grounds, inter alia, that the court had no jurisdiction since the parties had agreed that all disputes arising under or in connection with the bill of lading should be determined in the People’s Republic of China. It was held, inter alia, that this provision purported to oust the jurisdiction of the Nigerian court entirely and was therefore contrary to public policy. In Sonnar (Nig) Ltd v Partenreedri MS Norwind[19] Oputa JSC opined that as a matter of public policy Nigerian Courts “should not be too eager to divest themselves of jurisdiction conferred on them by the Constitution and by other laws simply because parties in their private contracts chose a foreign forum … Courts guard rather jealously their jurisdiction and even where there is an ouster clause of that jurisdiction by Statute it should be by clear and unequivocal words. If that is so, as is indeed it is, how much less can parties by their private acts remove the jurisdiction properly and legally vested in our Courts? Our courts should be in charge of their own proceedings. When it is said that parties make their own contracts and that the courts will only give effect to their intention as expressed in and by the contract, that should generally be understood to mean and imply a contract which does not rob the Court of its jurisdiction in favour of another foreign forum.”[20]

If the above judicial postulations were given literal effect by the Court of Appeal in Damac the exclusive choice of court agreement in favour of Dubai would be regarded as null and void. In effect, treating a choice of court agreement as an ouster clause has the effect of making a choice of court agreement illegal, unlawful or at best unenforceable. Recently, Nweze JSC has interpreted the concept of ouster clause to the effect “that our courts will only interrogate contracts which are designed to rob Nigerian courts of their jurisdiction in favour of foreign fora or where, by their acts, they are minded to remove the jurisdiction, properly and legally, vested in Nigerian courts.”[21] I will interpret Nweze JSC’s statement to mean that where a Nigerian court as a matter of state interest is exclusively vested by statute, the constitution or common law with a subject matter, then no foreign court can have jurisdiction in such matters.[22] Under common law, a clear example of this is a matter relating to immovable property, where the Nigerian court has exclusive jurisdiction. So the implication of this is that the concept of ouster clause has very limited effect in Nigerian jurisprudence.

5.2 Brandon Tests

Damac did not consider the application of the Brandon tests in Nigerian jurisprudence. The Brandon test is a form of application of forum non conveniens to choice of court agreements.

Brandon J, in The Eleftheria,[23] delivered a brilliant decision on this subject. The decision provided comprehensive guidelines that the English court should take into account in deciding whether to give effect to a foreign jurisdiction clause. This is often referred to as “the Brandon test” in Nigerian jurisprudence. Nigerian courts have regularly referred to the Brandon test and utilised it with approval in decided cases.[24] The test is stated hereunder as follows (as it has been referred to and applied) in the Nigerian context: 1. Where plaintiffs sue in Nigeria in breach of an agreement to refer disputes to a foreign court, and the defendants apply for a stay, the Nigerian court, assuming the claim to be otherwise within the jurisdiction is not bound to grant a stay but has a discretion whether to do so or not. 2. The discretion should be exercised by granting a stay unless strong cause for not doing it is shown. 3. The burden of proving such strong cause is on the plaintiffs. 4. In exercising its discretion the court should take account of all the circumstances of the particular case. 5. In particular, but without prejudice to (4), the following matters where they arise, may be properly regarded: (a) In what country the evidence on the issues of fact is situated, or more readily available, and the effect of that on the relative convenience and expense of trial as between the Nigerian and foreign courts. (b) Whether the law of the foreign court applies and, if so, whether it differs from Nigerian law in any material respects. (c) With what country either party is connected and how closely (d) Whether the defendants genuinely desire trial in the foreign country, or are only seeking procedural advantages. (e) Whether the plaintiff s would be prejudiced by having to sue in the foreign country because they would (i) be deprived of security for that claim; (ii) be unable to enforce any judgment obtained; (iii) be faced with a time-bar not applicable in Nigeria; or (iv) for political, racial, religious, or other reasons be unlikely to get a fair trial (v) the grant of a stay would amount to permanently denying the plaintiff any redress.

The only reported cases where the plaintiff(s) have successfully relied on the Brandon test is where their claim is statute barred in the forum chosen by the parties.[25] Indeed, the burden is on the plaintiff to show strong cause why Nigerian proceedings should be stayed in breach of a choice of court agreement; if not Nigerian courts will give effect to the choice of court agreement.[26]

In Damac, the plaintiff did not demonstrate strong reasons why the choice of court agreement should not be enforced. So even if the Brandon test was considered by the Court of Appeal, the claimant will not have succeeded.

6. Some Reservations

There are three reservations I have about the Court of Appeal’s decision in Damac. First, the Court of Appeal should have ordered a stay of proceedings rather than holding that the lower court did not have jurisdiction. This is what is done in other common law countries. There is wisdom in this approach. If it turns out that the claimant cannot institute its claims in Dubai, the Nigerian forum should remain available to promptly institute its actions against the defendant in this case.

Second the Court of Appeal held that jurisdiction can be raised for the first time on appeal. This statement only applies to substantive jurisdiction. Procedural jurisdiction cannot be raised on appeal for the first time. Thus, if it is established that the defendant/appellant did not promptly raise the issue of choice of court agreement in favour of Dubai at the High court, this might be a ground upon which the defendant/appellant can successfully challenge the decision of the Court of Appeal. This is because the issue of choice of court agreement is a procedural matter and a defendant that wants to raise the issue of choice of court agreement must do so promptly, or it will be deemed to have waived its right by submitting to the jurisdiction of the Nigerian court.

Finally, the Court of Appeal made wrong reference to choice of venue rules[27] as applicable, assuming the choice of court agreement in this case is invalid. Choices of venue rules are only applicable to determine the judicial division to institute a matter for geographic convenience. For example, Lagos State has four judicial divisions: Lagos, Ikeja, Epe and Ikorodu. In the event there is a dispute as to which of the judicial divisions should hear a matter, the rules of court are to be relied on.[28] Choice of venue rules do not apply to determine private international law matters as in this case.

In particular, given that Damac was a contractual private international law matter where the defendant was neither resident or submitted to the jurisdiction of the court,[29] Order 8(1)(e)(ii) of the High Court of Federal Capital Territory, Abuja (Civil Procedure) Rules, 2018 may have been considered.[30] Order 8(1)(e)(ii) provides that the court may allow any originating or other processes to be served outside Nigeria where: the claim is brought against a defendant to enforce, rescind, dissolve, annul or otherwise affect a contract or to recover damages or other relief for or in respect of a contract made by or through an agent residing or carrying on business within jurisdiction on behalf of a principal residing or carrying on business outside jurisdiction.

7. Conclusion

Damac is a recent trend among Nigerian courts to give a choice of court agreement a contractual function. Indeed, Damac is one of the few cases where issues of ouster clause and forum non conveniens no longer feature in the judgment of the court. There are good reasons why a choice of court agreement should be strictly enforced contractually. It promotes certainty and enhances the efficacy of international commercial transactions. However, given contractual enforcement to a choice of court agreement should only be regarded as a general rule and not an absolute rule. Nigerian courts should retain its discretion not to enforce choice of court agreements especially in the interest of justice and the protection of economically weaker parties.

[1]Kashamu v UBN Plc (2020) 15 NWLR (Pt. 1746) 90.

[2] Ibid 114-6.

[3] Damac Star Properties LLC v Profitel Limited (2020) LPELR-50699(CA).

[4] Ibid.

[5]For an extended analysis see generally CSA Okoli and RF Oppong, Private International Law in Nigeria (Hart, 2020) 107 – 125.

[6]Sonnar (Nig) Ltd v Partenreedri MS Norwind (1987) 4 NWLR 520, 541.

[7] Nika Fishing Company Ltd v Lavina Corporation (2008 ) 16 NWLR 509, 542-3.

[8] ( 2018 ) 9 NWLR 463, 489.

[9] Ibid

[10]Ibid 500-1.

[11]Ibid 502.

[12] Captain Tony Nso v Seacor Marine ( Bahamas) Inc ( 2008 ) LPELR-8320 (CA) 12-3.

[13]( 2017 ) LPELR-42814.

[14] Ibid 30.

[15]Ibid 49-50.

[16] See also Megatech Engineering Limited v Sky Vision Global Networks Llc (2014) LPELR-22539 (CA); Kashamu v UBN Plc (2020) 15 NWLR (Pt. 1746) 90; Unipetrol Nigeria Ltd v Prima Alfa Enterprises (Nig) Ltd ( 1986 ) 5 NWLR 532.

[17] (1949) 19 NLR 32.

[18] (1980) (1) ALR Comm 146.

[19](1987) 4 NWLR 520.

[20] Ibid 544-5.

[21] Conoil Plc v Vitol SA ( 2018 ) 9 NWLR 463, 489

[22]See generally CSA Okoli and RF Oppong, Private International Law in Nigeria (Hart, 2020) 117 – 124.

[23]The Owners of Cargo Lately Laden on Board the Ship or Vessel ‘ Elftheria ’ v ‘ The Elftheria ’ (Owners), ‘ Th e Elft heria ’ [1969] 1 Lloyd ’ s Rep 237.

[24] See generally GBN Line v Allied Trading Limited ( 1985 ) 2 NWLR (Pt. 5) 74 ; Sonnar (Nig) Ltd v Norwind (1987) 4 NWLR 520 ; Nika Fishing Company Ltd v Lavina Corporation ( 2008 ) 16 NWLR 509 ; Captain Tony Nso v Seacor Marine ( Bahamas ) Inc ( 2008 ) LPELR-8320 (CA) ; Beaumont Resources Ltd v DWC Drilling Ltd ( 2017 ) LPELR-42814 (CA) .

[25] Sonnar (Nig) Ltd v Norwind (1987) 4 NWLR 520.

[26] Nika Fishing Company Ltd v Lavina Corporation (2008) 16 NWLR 509.

[27] In applying the choice of venue rules of Abuja on matters of contract, it considered where the contract was made, place of performance and residence of the parties as prescribed in the rules of court.

[28] Order 4 of the High Court of Lagos (Civil Procedure) Rules 2019 (formerly Order 2 of the High Court of Lagos (Civil Procedure) Rules 2012).

[29]In Nigerian common law private international law, a court has jurisdiction as a matter of right where the defendant is either resident or submits to the jurisdiction of the court. See generally CSA Okoli and RF Oppong, Private International Law in Nigeria (Hart, 2020) 50 -86.

[30]This is on the assumption that there was no valid choice of court agreement.

Changzhou Sinotype Technology Co., Ltd, Hague Service Convention and Judgment Enforcement in China

November 10, 2020/in Views/by Jeanne Huang

Jie (Jeanne) Huang, University of Sydney Law School, Australia

Changzhou Sinotype Technology Co, Ltd. v. Rockefeller Technology Investments (Asia) VII is a recent case decided by the Supreme Court of California on April 2, 2020. The certiorari to the Supreme Court of the US was denied on 5 October 2020. It is a controversial case concerning the interpretation of the Convention on the Service Abroad of Judicial and Extra Judicial Documents in Civil or Commercial Matters of November 15, 1965 (the “Hague Service Convention”) for service of process in China.

Facts:

Changzhou SinoType Technology Co. (SinoType) is based in China. Rockefeller Technology Investments (Asia) VII (Rockefeller) is an American investment firm. In February 2008, they signed a memorandum of understanding (MOU) which provided that:

“6. The parties shall provide notice in the English language to each other at the addresses set forth in the Agreement via Federal Express or similar courier, with copies via facsimile or email, and shall be deemed received 3 business days after deposit with the courier.

7. The Parties hereby submit to the jurisdiction of the Federal and State courts in California and consent to service of process in accord with the notice provisions above.

8. In the event of any disputes arising between the Parties to this Agreement, either Party may submit the dispute to the Judicial Arbitration & Mediation Service in Los Angeles for exclusive and final resolution pursuant to according to [sic] its streamlined procedures before a single arbitrator who shall have ten years judicial service at the appellate level, pursuant to California law, and who shall issue a written, reasoned award. The Parties shall share equally the cost of the arbitration. Disputes shall include failure of the Parties to come to Agreement as required by this Agreement in a timely fashion.”

Due to disputes between the parties, in February 2012, Rockefeller brought an arbitration against SinoType. SinoType was defaulted in the arbitration proceeding. According to the arbitrator, SinoType was served by email and Federal Express to the Chinese address listed for it in the MOU. In November 2013, the arbitrator found favorably for Rockefeller.

Instead of enforcing the award in China according to the New York Convention,[1] Rockefeller petitioned to confirm the award in State courts in California. Cal. Civ. Proc. Code § 1290.4(a) provides that a petition to confirm an arbitral award “shall be served in the manner provided in the arbitration agreement for the service of such petition and notice.” Therefore, Rockefeller transmitted the summons and its petition to SinoType again through FedEx and email according to paragraph 7 of the MOU. SinoType did not appear and the award was confirmed in October 2014. SinoType then appeared specially and applied to set aside the judgment. It argued that the service of the Californian court proceeding did not comply with the Hague Service Convention; therefore, it had not been duly served and the judgment was void.

Decision

The California Supreme Court rejected SinoType’s argument.

The Court discerned three principles for the application of the Hague Service Convention. First, the Convention applies only to “service of process in the technical sense” involving “a formal delivery of documents”. The Court distinguished “service” and “notice” by referring to the Practical Handbook on the Operation of the Service Convention, published by the Permanent Bureau of the Hague Conference on Private International Law (‘Handbook’). The Court cited that

“the Convention cannot—and does not—determine which documents need to be served. It is a matter for the lex fori to decide if a document needs to be served and which document needs to be served. Thus, if the law of the forum states that a notice is to be somehow directed to one or several addressee(s), without requiring service, the Convention does not have to be applied.”[2]

Second, the law of the sending forum (i.e. the law of California) should be applied to determine whether “there is occasion to transmit a judicial or extrajudicial document for service abroad.”

Third, if formal service of process is required under the law of the sending forum, the Hague Convention must be complied for international transmission of service documents.

The court held that the parties have waived the formal service of process, so the Hague Service Convention was not applicable in this case.[3]

Comments

The Changzhou Sinotype Technology Co, Ltd has a number of interesting aspects and has been commented such as here, here and here.

First, the Hague Service Convention is widely considered as ‘non-mandatory’ but ‘exclusive’.[4] Addressing the non-mandatory nature of the Convention, the Handbook states that “the Convention can not—and does not—determine which documents need to be served. It is a matter for the lex fori to decide if a document needs to be served and which document needs to be served.”[5] However, this statement does not necessarily mean, when judicial documents are indeed transmitted from a member state to another to charge a defendant with notice of a pending lawsuit, a member state can opt out of the Convention by unilaterally excluding the transmission from the concept of service. Volkswagen Aktiengesellschaft v Schlunk decided by the Supreme Court of the US and Segers and Rufa BV v. Mabanaft GmbH decided by the Supreme Court of the Netherlands (Hoge Raad) are the two most important cases on the non-mandatory nature of the Convention. Both cases concentrate on which law should be applied to whether a document needed to be transmitted abroad for service.[6] However, Rockefeller is different because it is about which law should be applied to determine the concept of service when the transmission of judicial documents takes place in the soil of another member state. The Handbook provides that the basic criterion for the Convention to apply is “transmission abroad” and “place of service is determining factor”.[7] When judicial documents are physically transmitted in the soil of a member state, allowing another member state to unilaterally determine the concept of service in order to exclude the application of the Convention will inappropriately expand the non-mandatory character of the Convention. This will inevitably narrow the scope of the application of the Convention and damage the principle of reciprocity as the foundation of the Convention. The Hague Convention should be applied to Rockefeller because the summons and petitions were transmitted across border for service in China.

Second, as part of its accession to the Hague Convention, China expressly stated that it does not agree to service by mail. Indeed, the official PRC declarations and reservations to the Hague Convention make it clear that, with the limited exception of voluntary service on a foreign national living in China by his country’s own embassy or consulate, the only acceptable method of service on China is through the Chinese Central Authority. Therefore, although China has recognized monetary judgments issued in the US according to the principle of reciprocity, the judgment of Changzhou Sinotype Technology Co, Ltd probably cannot be recognized and enforced in China.

The California Supreme Court decision has important implications. For Chinese parties who have assets outside of China, they should be more careful in drafting their contracts because Changzhou Sinotype Technology Co, Ltd shows that a US court may consider their agreement on service by post is a waiver of China’s reservation under the Hague Service Convention. For US parties, if Chinese defendants only have assets in China for enforcement, Changzhou Sinotype Technology Co, Ltd is not a good case to follow because the judgment probably cannot be enforced in China.

[1] China is a party to the Convention on the Recognition and Enforcement of Foreign Arbitral Awards, Jun. 10, 1958, 21 U.S.T. 2517, 330 U.N.T.S. 38 (“New York Convention”).

[2] Practical Handbook on the Operation of the Service Convention (4th ed. 2016) par. 54, p. 23, fn. Omitted.

[3] The Court emphasized that their conclusions should be limited to Section 1290.4, subdivision (a): “Our conclusions as to California law are narrow. When parties agree to California arbitration, they consent to submit to the personal jurisdiction of California courts to enforce the agreement and any judgment under section 1293. When the agreement also specifies the manner in which the parties “shall be served,” consistent with section 1290.4, subdivision (a), that agreement supplants statutory service requirements and constitutes a waiver of formal service in favor of the agreed-upon method of notification. If an arbitration agreement fails to specify a method of service, the statutory service requirements of section 1290.4, subdivisions (b) or (c) would apply, and those statutory requirements would constitute formal service of process. We express no view with respect to service of process in other contexts.”

[4] Martin Davies et al., Nygh’s Conflict of Laws in Australia 36 (10th ed. 2020).

[5] Paragraph 54 of the Handbook.

[6] Ibid., paragraphs 31-45, and 47.

[7] Ibid., paragraph 16.

The Contractual Function of a Choice of Court Agreement in Nigerian Jurisprudence

November 3, 2020/in Views, News/by Chukwuma Okoli

Many international commercial parties usually provide for a choice of court agreement as a term of their contract. This is done to enhance predictability, certainty and reduction of costs in the event a dispute arises between the parties. Since a choice of court agreement is a term of the contract, does the principle of contract law apply to determine a choice of court agreement? Though this is a matter of controversy in Nigerian law,[1] some recent appellate courts (Court of Appeal and Supreme Court) have given a foreign choice of court agreement a contractual function.[2]

Kashamu v UBN Plc[3] is a most recent Court of Appeal decision that analyses a foreign choice of court agreement exclusively from the principles of contract law. In this case, The Banque International Du Benin (“BIDB”), a limited financial institution in Benin Republic, granted medium term loan facilities, in different sums, to the Societe d’ Egrenage Industrial De Cotonu du Benin (“SEIC-B”), a private limited company registered in Benin Republic, for construction of its Cotton Ginning factory. The facilities were secured by, inter alia, SEIC-B’s goodwill, factory and land. In addition, the defendant/appellant, the alter ego of SEIC-B, personally guaranteed the facilities in a personal guarantee agreement. The loan agreement between BIDB and SEICB provided that the law and courts of Benin Republic should determine their dispute. However, the guarantee agreement between BIDB and the defendant/appellant did not explicitly provide for a choice of court agreement.

SEIC-B defaulted in the repayment of the loans despite repeated demands. As a result, BIDB appointed the plaintiff/respondent, a public limited financial institution in Nigeria, as its attorney to recover the outstanding facility. Further to the donated power of attorney, the plaintiff/respondent claimed recovery of the debt from the defendant/appellant in the Lagos High Court, Nigeria. The defendant/appellant counter-claimed and also challenged the jurisdiction of the Lagos High Court as being the wrong forum to institute the action. The Lagos High Court held that it had jurisdiction.

The defendant/appellant was dissatisfied with this decision and appealed to the Court of Appeal. The defendant/appellant argued that the proper forum for the action was the Courts in Benin Republic, given that the loan agreement between BIDB and SEICB provided that the law and courts of Benin Republic should determine their dispute. He argued that the choice of court agreement in the loan contract should also be incorporated into the guarantee agreement, so that it was the intention of the parties that the courts of Benin Republic should determine their dispute. He also argued that the execution and performance of the contract were to be in Benin Republic hence the agreement was in French Language.

The plaintiff/respondent argued that the loan agreement and guarantee agreement were distinct. It observed that the parties were bound by the terms in the guarantee agreement. It added that the parties in the guarantee agreement did not agree that the court in Benin Republic would have exclusive jurisdiction over disputes arising from it. It asserted that the guarantee agreement was not expressly incorporated in the loan agreement. It opined that the defendant/appellant was not privy to the loan agreement and would not take a benefit from or enforce it for want of privity of contract. It claimed that the content of the guarantee agreement was clear and must be given its literal meaning.

The Court of Appeal unanimously dismissed the appeal. In construing the loan and guarantee agreement to determine if the parties chose the courts of Benin Republic, it applied the principles of Nigerian contract law to the effect that courts are allowed to read a document holistically so as to reach and garner harmonious results of its content. In construing a document, the court is enjoined or mandated by law to apply the literal rule as a canon of interpretation, that is, to accord the words employed there in their ordinary grammatical meaning without any embellishment.[4] It then held that for the document of parties to a private contract to confer jurisdiction on a court, the words used must be clear and explicit and devoid of woolliness and ambiguity. In the instant case, the guarantee contract did not precisely confer jurisdiction on the Benin Republic court.[5] It further held that loan contract did not in any way allude to the guarantee to benefit from the doctrine of incorporation by reference. The doctrine of incorporation could not be invoked because of the want of connection between the two documents.[6]

Kashamu’s case demonstrates the recent attitude of some Nigerian appellate courts to treat choice of court agreements as a term of the contract which should be construed strictly according to the literal and ordinary words used in the contract. In effect in the absence of vitiating circumstances, the parties are bound by the terms of a choice of court agreement, and a Nigerian court will not add or subtract from the way the parties drafted the contract. The Court of Appeal’s approach in Kashamu reflected Nigeria’s law that interprets contractual documents strictly. Kashamu is a modern approach that applies the principles of contract law to choice of court agreements.

[1]For an extended analysis see generally CSA Okoli and RF Oppong, Private International Law in Nigeria (Hart, 2020) 107 – 125.

[2]Nika Fishing Company Ltd v Lavina Corporation (2008 ) 16 NWLR 509, 542 (Tobi JSC); Conoil Plc
v Vitol SA ( 2018 ) 9 NWLR 489 – 490 (Nweze JSC); 497 (Kekere-Ekun JSC); 500 (Okoro JSC); 501 – 2
(Eko JSC); Captain Tony Nso v Seacor Marine ( Bahamas) Inc ( 2008 ) LPELR-8320 (CA); Megatech Engineering Limited v Sky Vision Global Networks Llc (2014) LPELR-22539 (CA); Beaumont Resources Ltd v DWC Drilling Ltd ( 2017 ) LPELR-42814 (CA); Kashamu v UBN Plc (2020) 15 NWLR (Pt. 1746) 90. See also Felshade International (Nig.) Ltd v Trafugura Beheer BV Amsterdam (2020) 14 NWLR (Pt. 1743) 107, 144.

[3]Kashamu (Ibid)

[4] Kashamu (Ibid) 114-5 (Ogbuinya JCA).

[5] Kashamu (Ibid) 115 (Ogbuinya JCA).

[6] Kashamu (Ibid) 116 (Ogbuinya JCA).

Chris Thomale on the EP Draft Report on Corporate Due Diligence

October 27, 2020/in Views/by Jan von Hein

Professor Chris Thomale, University of Vienna and Roma Tre University, has kindly provided us with his thoughts on the recent EP Draft Report on corporate due diligence and corporate accountability.

In recent years, debate on Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) has picked up speed, finally reaching the EU. The Draft Report first and foremost contains a draft Directive on corporate due diligence and corporate accountability, which seems a logical step ahead from the status quo developed since 2014, which so far only consists of reporting obligations (see the Non-Financial Reporting Directive) and sector specific due diligence (see the Regulations on Timber and Conflict Minerals). The date itself speaks volumes: Precisely, to the very day (!), 8 years after the devastating fire in the factory of Ali Enterprises in Pakistan, which attracted much international attention through its follow-up litigation against the KiK company in Germany, the EU is taking the initiative to coordinate Member State national action plans as required under the Ruggie Principles. Much could be said about this new Directive in terms of company law and business law: The balancing exercise of on the one hand, assuring effective transparency of due diligence strategies and, on the other hand, avoiding overregulation in particular with regard to SMEs still appears somewhat rough and ready and hence should see some refinement in due course. The same applies to the private enforcement of those due diligence duties: By leaving the availability and degree of private enforcement entirely to the Member States (Art. 20), the Directive seems to gloss over one of the most pressing topics of comparative legal debate. The question of availability, conditions and extent of private liability imposed on parent companies for human rights violations committed in their value chains abroad, must be addressed by the EU eventually.

To this forum, however, the private international implications of the Draft Report would appear even more important:

As regards the conflicts of laws solution, the proposed Art. 6a Rome II Regulation seeks to make available, at the claimant’s choice, several substantive laws as conveniently summarized by Geert van Calster in the terms of lex loci damni, lex loci delicti commissi, lex loci incorporationis and lex loci activitatis. Despite my continuous call for a choice between the first two de regulatione lata, to be reached by applying a purposive reading of Art. 4 para 1 and 3 Rome II (see JZ 2017 and ZGR 2017), the latter two, lex loci incorporationis and lex loci activitatis, seem very odd to me. First, they are supported, to my humble knowledge, by no existing Private International Law Code or judicial practice. Second, the lex loci incorporationis has no convincing rationale, why it should in any way be connected with the legal relationship as created by the corporate perpetrator’s tort. Lex loci activitatis is excessively vague and will create threshold questions as well as legal uncertainty. Third, I would most emphatically concur with Jan von Hein’s opinion of a quadrupled choice being excessive and impractical in and of itself.

The solution proposed in terms of international jurisdiction, I will readily admit, looks puzzling to me. I fail to see, which cases the proposed Art. 8 para 5 Brussels Ibis Regulation is supposed to cover: As far as international jurisdiction is awarded to the courts of the “Member State where it has its domicile”, this adds nothing to Art. 4, 63 Brussels Ibis Regulation. In fact, it will create unnecessary confusion as to whether this venue of general jurisdiction is good even when there is no “damage caused in a third country [which] can be imputed to a subsidiary or another undertaking with which the parent company has a business relationship.” Thus, we are left with the courts of “a Member State […] in which [the undertaking] operates.” As already pointed out, this term itself will trigger a lot of controversy regarding certain threshold issues. But there is more: Oftentimes this locus activitatis will coincide with the locus delicti commissi, e.g., when claimants want to rely on an omission of oversight by the European parent company. In that case, Art. 7 No. 2 Brussels Ibis Regulation offers a venue at the very place, i.e. both in terms of international and local jurisdiction, where that omission was committed. How does the new rule relate to the old one? And, again, which cases exactly are supposed to be captured by this provision? In my view, this is a phantom paragraph that, if anything, can only do harm to the fragile semantic and systematic architecture built up by the Brussels Ibis Regulation and CJEU case law.

The same seems true of the proposed Art. 26a Brussels Ibis: First, there is no evident need for such a forum necessitatis, rendering Member State courts competent to hear foreign-cubed cases with no connection to the EU whatsoever. To the contrary, recent development of the US Alien Torts Statute point in the opposite direction. Second, the EU might be overreaching its legislative jurisdiction: Brussels Ibis Regulation is based on the EU’s competence to legislate on judicial cooperation in civil matters (Art. 81 para 2 TFEU). Such a global long-arm statute may not be covered by that competence, if it is legal at all under the public international confines incumbent upon civil jurisdiction (for details, see here). Third, it will be virtually anybody’s guess what a court seized with a politicised and likely emotional case like the ones we are talking about will deem a “reasonable” Third State venue. In fact, this would be a forum non conveniens test with inverted colours, i.e. the very test the CJEU, in 2005, deemed irreconcilable with the exigencies of foreseeability and legal certainty within the Brussels Ibis Regulation.

Does a United States’ Court have jurisdiction to make an order affecting immovable property in Lagos, Nigeria?

October 26, 2020/3 Comments/in Views, News/by Chukwuma Okoli

In the very recent case of Yankey v Austin (2020) LPELR-49540(CA) the Nigerian Court of Appeal was faced with the issue of whether a court in the United State has jurisdiction to make an order affecting immovable property in Lagos, Nigeria.

The facts of the case was that the claimant/respondent previously sued the defendant/appellant before the Family Court Division, of the District of the Fourth Judicial District, County of Hennepin, State of Minnesota (“US Court”) – where they resided at the time, for dissolution of their marriage that was celebrated in Nigeria. The defendant/appellant as respondent before the US Court did not contest the dissolution of the marriage. They entered into a Mutual Termination Agreement, which is called Terms of Settlement in the Nigerian legal system. There was no trial and no evidence was adduced. Their homestead at 4104 Lakeside Avenue, Brooklyn Center, Minesota was awarded exclusively to the claimant/respondent as petitioner before the US Court. It did not end there.

The claimant/respondent subsequently instituted proceedings before the Lagos State High Court, Nigeria, and claimed joint ownership of the defendant/appellant’s immovable property situated in Lagos, by relying on the US judgment. The lower court granted the claim.

The defendant/appellant appealed to the Court of Appeal, which unanimously allowed the appeal by overturning the decision of the lower court. The Court of Appeal (Ogakwu JCA) thoroughly analysed the documents which were in issue: (1) Mutual Termination Agreement, (2) Judgment of the US Court, and (3) petition for the dissolution of the parties marriage in the US Court. The Court of Appeal reached the conclusion that there was nothing in the documents in issue which suggests that the US judge granted joint ownership of the defendant/appellant’s immovable property with the plaintiff/respondent. It also held that based on the principle of lex situs the US Court cannot make an order affecting immovable property in Nigeria.

The decision in Yankey is an important decision from the perspective of public and private international law. Based on the principle of territorial sovereignty, a foreign court cannot make an order affecting immovable property in another country. This rule as applied in Nigeria – often referred to as the Mocambique rule – is derived from the English case of British South Africa Company v Companhia de Mocambique [1893] AC 602. In that case, the plaintiff s’ statement of claim alleged that they were rightful owners of large tracts of land in South Africa, yet agents of the defendants unlawfully took possession of the lands and displaced the plaintiff company and its servants, agents, and tenants. The plaintiffs also alleged that the defendants not only stole the plaintiff s’ personal property, but also assaulted and imprisoned some of them. It was held that an English court would not entertain an action to recover damages for a trespass to land situated abroad.

It is worth mentioning that in Nigeria, an exception to the Mozambique rule exists where the action between the parties is founded on some personal obligation arising out of a contract or implied contract, a fiduciary relationship, fraud or other unconscionable conduct, and does not depend on the law of the locus of the immovable property to exist (British Bata Shoe Co Ltd v Melikian ( 1956 ) 1 FSC 100; Aluminium Industries Aktien Gesellschaft v Federal Board of Inland Revenue ( 1971 ) 2 ALR Comm 121 , (1971) 2 NCLR 1)

The Mozambique rule has been applied by the Nigerian Supreme Court only in inter-state matters such as in Lanleyin v Rufai ( 1959 ) 4 FSC 184. Yankey is the first case where it was applied in a case with truly international dimensions. Admittedly, the Court of Appeal did not explicitly mention the Mozambique rule or the Nigerian Supreme Court cases that have applied it in inter-state matters. The truth is that there was no need for the Court of Appeal to do so. Based on the facts of the case, the US Court never made an order for joint ownership of the immovable property in Lagos.

Yankey is a most welcome decision. If the lower court’s decision was allowed to stand, it would mean that any foreign court can generally make an order affecting immovable property in Nigeria. The Court of Appeal was therefore right to hold that the US Court never made an order for joint ownership of immovable property for the parties in this case. It was also right to hold that a foreign court cannot make an order of joint ownership of immovable property in Nigeria.

A step in the right direction, but nothing more – A critical note on the Draft Directive on mandatory Human Rights Due Diligence

October 26, 2020/in Views/by Jan von Hein

Written by Bastian Brunk, research assistant at the Humboldt University of Berlin and doctoral candidate at the Institute for Comparative and Private International Law at the University of Freiburg.

In April of 2020, EU Commissioner Didier Reynders announced plans for a legislative initiative that would introduce EU-wide mandatory human rights due diligence requirements for businesses. Only recently, Reynders reiterated his intentions during a conference regarding “Human Rights and Decent Work in Global Supply Chains” which was hosted by the German Federal Ministry of Labour and Social Affairs on the 6. October, and asseverated the launch of public consultations within the next few weeks. A draft report, which was prepared by MEP Lara Wolters (S&D) for the European Parliament Committee on Legal Affairs, illustrates what the prospective EU legal framework for corporate due diligence could potentially look like. The draft aims to facilitate access to legal remedies in cases of corporate human rights abuses by amending the Brussels Ibis Regulation as well as the Rome II Regulation. However, as these amendments have already inspired a comments by Geert van Calster, Giesela Rühl, and Jan von Hein, I won’t delve into them once more. Instead, I will focus on the centre piece of the draft report – a proposal for a Directive that would establish mandatory human rights due diligence obligations for businesses. If adopted, the Directive would embody a milestone for the international protection of human rights. As is, the timing could simply not be better, since the UN Guiding Principles (UNGPs) celebrate their 10th anniversary in 2021. The EU should take this opportunity to present John Ruggie, the author of the UNGPs, with a special legislative gift. However, I’m not entirely sure if Ruggie would actually enjoy this particular present, as the Directive has obvious flaws. The following passages aim to accentuate possible improvements, that would lead to the release of an appropriate legal framework next year. I will not address every detail but will rather focus on the issues I consider the most controversial – namely the scope of application and the question of effective enforcement.

General Comments

To begin with a disclaimer, I believe the task of drafting a legal document on the issue of business and human rights to be a huge challenge. Not only does one have to reconcile the many conflicting interests of business, politics, and civil society, moreover, it is an impossible task to find the correct degree of regulation for every company and situation. If the regulation is too weak, it does not help protect human rights, but only generates higher costs. If it is too strict, it runs the risk of companies withdrawing from developing and emerging markets, and – because free trade and investment ensure worldwide freedom, growth, and prosperity – of possibly inducing an even worse human rights situation. This being said, the current regulatory approach should first and foremost be recognised as a first step in the right direction.

I would also like to praise the idea of including environmental and governance risks in the due diligence standard (see Article 4(1)) because these issues are closely related to each other. Practically speaking, the conduct of companies is not only judged based on their human rights performance but rather holistically using ESG or PPP criteria. All the same, I am not sure whether or not this holistic approach will be accepted in the regulatory process: Putting human rights due diligence requirements into law is difficult enough, so maybe it would just be easier to limit the proposal to human rights. Nonetheless, it is certainly worth a try.

Moving on to my criticism.

Firstly, the draft is supposed to be a Directive, not a Regulation. As such, it cannot impose any direct obligations on companies but must first be transposed into national law. However, the proposal contains a colourful mix of provisions, some of which are addressed to the Member States, while others impose direct obligations on companies. For example, Article 4(1) calls upon Member States to introduce due diligence obligations, whereas all other provisions of the same article directly address companies. In my eyes, this is inconsistent.

Secondly, the Directive uses definitions that diverge from those of the UNGPs. For example, the UNGPs define “due diligence” as a process whereby companies “identify, prevent, mitigate and account for” adverse human rights impacts. This seems very comprehensive, doesn’t it? Due diligence, as stipulated in the Directive, goes beyond that by asking companies to identify, cease, prevent, mitigate, monitor, disclose, account for, address, and remediate human rights risks. Of course, one could argue that the UNGP is incomplete and the Directive fills its gaps, but I believe some of these “tasks” simply redundant. Of course, this is not a big deal by itself. But in my opinion, one should try to align the prospective mechanism with the UNGPs as much as possible, since the latter are the recognised international standard and its due diligence concept has already been adopted in various frameworks, such as the UN Global Compact, the OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises, and the ISO 26000. An alignment with the UNGP, therefore, allows and promotes coherence within international policies.

Before turning to more specific issues, I would like to make one last general remark that goes in the same direction as the previous one. While the UNGP ask companies to respect “at minimum” the “international recognized human rights”, meaning the international bill of rights (UDHR, ICCPR, ICESCR) and the ILO Core Labour Standards, the Directive requires companies to respect literally every human rights catalogue in existence. These include not only international human rights documents of the UN and the ILO, but also instruments that are not applicable in the EU, such as the African Charter of Human and People’s Rights, the American Convention of Human Rights, and (all?) “national constitutions and laws recognising or implementing human rights”. This benchmark neither guides companies nor can it be monitored effectively by the authorities. It is just too ill-defined to serve as a proper basis for civil liability claims or criminal sanctions and it will probably lower the political acceptance of the proposal.

Scope of Application

The scope of application is delineated in Article 2 of the Directive. It states that the Directive shall apply to all undertakings governed by the law of a Member State or established in the territory of the EU. It shall also apply to limited liability undertakings governed by the law of a non-Member State and not established within EU-territory if they operate in the internal market by selling goods or providing services. As one can see, the scope is conceivably broad, which gives rise to a number of questions.

First off, the Directive does not define the term “undertaking”. Given the factual connection, we could understand it in the same way as the Non-Financial Reporting Directive (2014/95/EU) does. However, an “undertaking” within the scope of the Non-Financial Reporting Directive refers to the provisions of the Accounting Directive (2013/34/EU), which has another purpose, i.e. investor and creditor protection, and is, therefore, restricted to certain types of limited liability companies. Such a narrow understanding would run counter to the purpose of the proposed Directive because it excludes partnerships and foreign companies. On the other hand, “undertaking” probably does mean something different than in EU competition law. There, the concept covers “any entity engaged in an economic activity, regardless of its legal status” and must be understood as “designating an economic unit even if in law that economic unit consists of several persons, natural or legal” (see e.g. CJEU, Akzo Nobel, C-97/08 P, para 54 ff.). Under EU competition law, the concept is, therefore, not limited to legal entities, but also encompasses groups of companies (as “single economic units”). This concept of “undertaking”, if applied to the Directive, would correspond with the term “business enterprises” as used in the UNGP (see the Interpretive Guide, Q. 17). However, it would ignore the fact that the parent company and its subsidiaries are distinct legal entities, and that the parent company’s legal power to influence the activities of its subsidiaries may be limited under the applicable corporate law. It would also lead to follow-up questions regarding the precise legal requirements under which a corporate group would have to be included. Finally, non-economic activities and, hence, non-profit organisations would be excluded from the scope, which possibly leads to significant protection gaps (just think about FIFA, Oxfam, or WWF). In order to not jeopardise the objective – ensuring “harmonization, legal certainty and the securing of a level playing field” (see Recital 9 of the Directive) – the Directive should not leave the term “undertaking” open to interpretation by the Member States. A clear and comprehensive definition should definitely be included in the Directive, clarifying that “undertaking” refers to any legal entity (natural or legal person), that provide goods or services on the market, including non-profit services.

Secondly, the scope of application is not coherent for several reasons. One being that the chosen form of the proposal is a Directive, rather than a Regulation, thus providing for minimum harmonisation only. It is left to the Member States to lay down the specific rules that ensure companies carrying out proper human rights due diligence (Article 4(1)). This approach can lead to slightly diverging due diligence requirements within the EU. Hence, the question of which requirements a company must comply with arises. From a regulatory law’s perspective alone, this question is not satisfactorily answered. According to Article 2(1), “the Directive” (i.e. the respective Member States’ implementation acts) applies to any company which has its registered office in a Member State or is established in the EU. However, the two different connecting factors of Article 2(1) have no hierarchy, so a company must probably comply with the due diligence requirements of any Member State where it has an establishment (agency, branch, or office). Making matters worse (at least from the company’s perspective), in the event of a human rights lawsuit, due diligence would have to be characterised as a matter relating to non-contractual obligations and thus fall within the scope of the new Art. 6a Rome II. The provisions of this Article potentially require a company to comply with the due diligence obligations of three additional jurisdictions, namely lex loci damni, lex loci delicti commissi, and either the law of the country in which the parent company has its domicile (in this regard, I agree with Jan von Hein who proposes the use not of the company’s domicile but its habitual residence as a connecting factor according to Article 23 Rome II) or, where it does not have a domicile (or habitual residence) in a Member State, the law of the country where it operates.

That leads us to the next set of questions: When does a company “operate” in a country? According to Article 2(2), the Directive applies to non-EU companies which are not established in the EU if they “operate” in the internal market by selling goods or providing services. But does that mean, for example, that a Chinese company selling goods to European customers over Amazon must comply fully with European due diligence requirements? And is Amazon, therefore, obliged to conduct a comprehensive human rights impact assessment for every retailer on its marketplace? Finally, are states obliged to impose fines and criminal sanctions (see Article 19) on Amazon or the Chinese seller if they do not meet the due diligence requirements, and if so, how? I believe that all this could potentially strain international trade relations and result in serious foreign policy conflicts.

Finally, and perhaps most controversially in regard to the scope, the requirements shall apply to all companies regardless of their size. While Article 2(3) allows the exemption of micro-enterprises, small companies with at least ten employees and a net turnover of EUR 700,000 or a balance sheet total of EUR 350,000 would have to comply fully with the new requirements. In contrast, the French duty of vigilance only applies to large stock corporations which, including their French subsidiaries and sub-subsidiaries, employ at least 5,000 employees, or including their worldwide subsidiaries and sub-subsidiaries, employ at least 10,000 employees. The Non-Financial Reporting Directive only applies to companies with at least 500 employees. And the due diligence law currently being discussed in Germany, will with utmost certainty exempt companies with fewer than 500 employees from its scope and could perhaps even align itself with the French law’s scope. Therefore, I doubt that the Member States will accept any direct legal obligations for their SMEs. Nonetheless, because the Directive requires companies to conduct value chain due diligence, SMEs will still be indirectly affected by the law.

Value Chain Due Diligence

Value chain due diligence, another controversial issue, is considered to be anything but an easy task by the Directive. To illustrate the dimensions: BMW has more than 12,000 suppliers, BASF even 70,000. And these are all just Tier 1 suppliers. Many, if not all, multinational companies probably do not even know how long and broad their value chain actually is. The Directive targets this problem by requiring companies to “make all reasonable efforts to identify subcontractors and suppliers in their entire value chain” (Article 4(5)). This task cannot be completed overnight but should not be impossible either. For example, VF Corporation, a multinational apparel and footwear company, with brands such as Eastpack, Napapijri, or The North Face in its portfolio, has already disclosed the (sub?)suppliers for some of its products and has announced their attempt to map the complete supply chain of its 140 products by 2021. BASF and BMW will probably need more time, but that shouldn’t deter them from trying in the first place.

Mapping the complete supply chain is one thing; conducting extensive human rights impact assessments is another. Even if a company knows its chain, this does not yet mean that it comprehends every potential human rights risk linked to its remote business operations. And even if a potential human rights risk comes to its attention, the tasks of “ceasing, preventing, mitigating, monitoring, disclosing, accounting for, addressing, and remediating” (see Article 3) it is not yet fulfilled. These difficulties call up to consider limiting the obligation to conduct supply chain due diligence to Tier 1 suppliers. However, this would not only be a divergence from the UNGP (see Principle 13) but would also run counter to the Directive’s objective. In fact, limiting due diligence to Tier 1 suppliers makes it ridiculously easy to circumvent the requirements of the Directive by simply outsourcing procurement to a third party. Hence, the Directive takes a different approach by including the entire supply chain in the due diligence obligations while adjusting the required due diligence processes to the circumstances of the individual case. Accordingly, Article 2(8) states that “[u]ndertakings shall carry out value chain due diligence which is proportionate and commensurate to their specific circumstances, particularly their sector of activity, the size and length of their supply chain, the size of the undertaking, its capacity, resources and leverage”. I consider this an adequate provision because it balances the interests of both companies and human rights subjects. However, as soon as it comes to enforcing it, it burdens the judge with a lot of responsibility.

Enforcement

The question of enforcement is of paramount importance. Without effective enforcement mechanisms, the law will be nothing more than a bureaucratic and toothless monster. We should, therefore, expect the Directive – being a political appeal to the EU Commission after all – to contain ambitious proposals for the effective implementation of human rights due diligence. Unfortunately, we were disappointed.

The Directive provides for three different ways to enforce its due diligence obligations. Firstly, the Directive requires companies to establish grievance mechanisms as low-threshold access to remedy (Articles 9 and 10). Secondly, the Directive introduces transparency and disclosure requirements. For example, companies should publish a due diligence strategy (Article 6(1)) which, inter alia, specifies identified human rights risks and indicates the policies and measures that the company intends to adopt in order to cease, prevent, or mitigate those risks (see Article 4(4)). Companies shall also publish concerns raised through their grievance mechanisms as well as remediation efforts, and regularly report on progress made in those instances (Article 9(4)). With these disclosure requirements, the Directive aims to enable the civil society (customers, investors and activist shareholders, NGOs etc.) to enforce it. Thirdly, the Directive postulates public enforcement mechanisms. Each Member State shall designate one or more competent national authorities that will be responsible for the supervision of the application of the Directive (Article 14). The competent authorities shall have the power to investigate any concerns, making sure that companies comply with the due diligence obligations (Article 15). If the authority identifies shortcomings, it shall set the respective company a time limit to take remedial action. It may then, in case the company does not fulfil the respective order, impose penalties (especially penalty payments and fines, but also criminal sanctions, see Article 19). Where immediate action is necessary to prevent the occurrence of irreparable harm, the competent authorities may also order the adoption of interim measures, including the temporary suspension of business activities.

At first glance, public enforcement through inspections, interim measures, and penalties appear as quite convincing. However, the effectiveness of these mechanisms may be questioned, as demonstrated by the Wirecard scandal in Germany. Wirecard was Germany’s largest payment service provider and part of the DAX stock market index from September 2018 to August 2020. In June of 2020, Wirecard filed for insolvency after it was revealed that the company had cooked its books and that EUR 1.9 billion were “missing”. In 2015 and 2019, the Financial Times already reported on irregularities in the company’s accounting practices. Until February 2019, the competent supervisory authority BaFin did not intervene, but only commissioned the FREP to review the falsified balance sheet, assigning only a single employee to do so. This took more than 16 months and did not yield any results before the insolvency application. While it is true that the Wirecard scandal is unique, it showcased that investigating malpractices of large multinational companies through a single employee is a crappy idea. Public enforcement mechanisms only work if the competent authority has sufficient financial and human resources to monitor all the enterprises covered by the Directive. So how much manpower does it need? Even if the Directive were to apply to companies with more than 500 employees, in Germany alone one would have to monitor more than 7.000 entities and their respective value chains. We would, therefore, need a whole division of public inspectors in a gigantic public agency. In my opinion, that sounds daunting. That does not mean that public enforcement mechanisms are completely dispensable. As Ruggie used to say, there is no single silver bullet solution to business and human rights challenges. But it is also important to consider decentralised enforcement mechanisms such as civil liability. In contrast to public enforcement mechanisms, civil liability offers victims of human rights violations “access to effective remedy”, which, according to Principle 25, is one of the main concerns of the UNGP.

So, what does the Directive say about civil liability? Just about nothing. Article 20 only states that “[t]he fact that an undertaking has carried out due diligence in compliance with the requirements set out in this Directive shall not absolve the undertaking of any civil liability which it may incur pursuant to national law.” Alright, so there shouldn’t be a safe harbour for companies. But that does not yet mean that companies are liable for human rights violations at all. And even if it were so, the conditions for asserting a civil claim can differ considerably between the jurisdictions of the Member States. The Directive fails to achieve EU-wide harmonisation on the issue of liability. That’s not a level playing field. This problem could be avoided by passing an inclusive Regulation containing both rules concerning human rights due diligence and a uniform liability regime in case of violations of said rules. However, such an attempt would probably encounter political resistance from the Member States and result in an undesirable delay of the legislative process. A possible solution could be to only lay down minimum requirements for civil liability but to leave the ultimate drafting and implementation of liability rules to the Member States. Alternatively, the Directive could stipulate that the obligations set out in Articles 4 to 12 are intended to determine the due care without regard to the law applicable to non-contractual obligations. At least, both options would ensure that companies are liable for any violation of their human rights due diligence obligations. Is that too much to ask?

Waiving the Right to a Foreign Arbitration Clause by submitting to the Jurisdiction of the Nigerian Court

October 24, 2020/6 Comments/in Views, News/by Chukwuma Okoli

Introduction

Commercial arbitration is now very popular around the globe. It forms an important part of Nigerian jurisprudence. In Nigeria, it is regulated by the Arbitration and Conciliation Act (“ACA”).[1]

Clauses designating an arbitral tribunal to resolve dispute between parties are now common place in international commercial transactions. Generally, the Nigerian courts respect and strictly enforce the parties’ choice to resolve their dispute before an arbitral tribunal in both domestic and international cases.[2] This right is however not absolute. The right to resolve disputes before an arbitral tribunal could be waived by submitting to the jurisdiction of the Nigerian court. Indeed, Section 5(1) of the ACA provides that: “If any party to an arbitration agreement commences any action in any court with respect to any matter which is the subject of an arbitration agreement any party to the arbitration agreement may, at any time after appearance and before delivering any pleadings or taking any other steps in the proceedings, apply to the court to stay the proceeding.”[3] In essence, if a party to an international arbitration clause delivers any pleadings or takes any steps in the proceedings, such a party is deemed to have waived its right to an arbitration clause by submitting to the jurisdiction of the Nigerian court,

What provokes this comment is that in a recent Nigerian Court of Appeal decision in The Vessel MT. Sea Tiger & Anor v Accord Ship Management (HK) Ltd[4] (“Tiger”), the Court of Appeal held inter alia that where a party is served with a judicial claim, in breach of a foreign arbitration clause, but fails or refuses to appear before the court, such a party is deemed to have waived its right to an arbitration agreement by submitting to the jurisdiction of the Nigerian Court. It also held that payment of an out of court settlement amounts to submission.

This comment opines that the Court of Appeal’s decision was wrongly decided insofar as it held that where proceedings are instituted in breach of a foreign arbitration clause, failure or refusal to appear before judicial proceedings, and payment of an out of court settlement amounts to waiver by submitting to the jurisdiction of the court.

Facts

In Tiger, the 2^nd plaintiff-appellant and the 1^st defendant-respondent – both foreign companies before the Nigerian Court – entered into a ship management agreement on 18^th of February 2012 in Hong Kong for the management of the 1^st plaintiff-appellant vessel. The parties agreed in clause 23 and 25 of the ship management agreement that any dispute arising from their agreement shall be referred to international arbitration in London.

When a dispute arose as to the payment of the management fees between the parties, the 1^st defendant-respondent instituted proceedings (suit No. FHC/L/CS/1789/2013) at the Federal High Court, Nigeria for the arrest of the 1^st plaintiff-appellant vessel. In that proceeding, the 1^st defendant-respondent (as plaintiff) sued the plaintiff-appellants (the vessel and owners of the vessel) as the defendants in that case. The plaintiff-appellants settled the claim out of court by making payments to the 1^st defendant-respondent. Subsequently, on 27^th February 2014, the 1^st defendant-respondent as plaintiff in suit No. FHC/L/CS/1789/2013 withdrew its suit and the vessel was ordered to be released.

In consequence of the arrest of the 1^st plaintiff-appellant from 31^st December 2013 to 27^th February 2018, the appellants sued the defendant-respondents in the Federal High Court, Lagos for a significant amount of compensation arising from what it claimed to be the wrongful arrest of the 1^st plaintiff-appellant in breach of their agreement to settle their dispute by international arbitration in London.

Decision

The Court of Appeal unanimously dismissed the claim of the plaintiff-appellants by holding that they had waived their right to the international arbitration clause by submitting to the jurisdiction of the Nigerian Court. The decision was reached on two principal grounds. The first ground was failure or refusal to appear and challenge the proceedings after being served with court processes. The second ground was the payment of an out of court settlement in order to release the vessel. In order to provide more clarity, the relevant portions of the decisions are quoted.

First, Garba JCA in his leading judgment held that:

The failure or refusal by it (plaintiff-appellants) to appear in reaction to the originating processes to enable the appellant challenge the jurisdiction of the lower court on the ground of the arbitration clauses in the Ship Management Agreement…left no other reasonable presumption in law and option to the lower court than that the appellants had submitted to the jurisdiction of that court to adjudicate over the suit since the only challenge to the suit by the appellants was entirely and completely predicated and founded on the arbitration clauses in the Ship Management Agreement and not on the lack of jurisdiction on the part of the court, in any event, entertain the suit on any cognizable ground of law. The failure or refusal to enter an appearance and be represented in the suit constituted and amounted to a muted but clear submission to the jurisdiction of the lower court in the case.[5]

Second, Garba JCA held that: “…the lower court is right that the appellants submitted to its jurisdiction in the suit no:FHC/L/CS/1789/2013 by the payment and settlement of the 1^st respondent’s claim in order to secure the release of the 1^st appellant from the arrest and detention it was placed under in the case thereby not only taking a step in the case, but actively and effectively so, in the circumstances of the case.”[6]

Comments

The Court of Appeal’s decision in Tiger is very important from the perspective of private international law and international commercial arbitration. The implication of Tiger is that where proceedings are instituted in a Nigerian court in breach of a foreign arbitration clause, the party requesting arbitration would be wise to appear before the court and immediately request the court to stay its proceedings in favour of a foreign arbitration clause. If this is not done, an international arbitration clause is ineffective in Nigerian law on the basis that the party requesting arbitration would be deemed to have waived its right by submitting to the jurisdiction of the court. In addition, the payment of an out of court settlement would amount to waiver by submitting to the jurisdiction of a Nigerian court.

Prior to Tiger, waiver to an arbitration clause by submitting to the jurisdiction of the Nigerian court could only be established where the defendant enters an unconditional appearance or defends the case on its merits without challenging the jurisdiction of the court.[7]

It is submitted that Tiger is a wrong extension of the principle to the extent that it holds that failure or refusal to appear before proceedings which breach an international arbitration clause constitutes waiver by submission to the jurisdiction of a court. A defendant that does not appear before court proceedings cannot be deemed to have waived its right by submitting to the jurisdiction of the Nigerian court. In other words, failure or refusal to appear to proceedings upon being duly notified is the very antithesis of submission to the jurisdiction of a court. Indeed, there is an earlier Nigerian Supreme Court’s decision that clearly held that failure or refusal of a defendant resident in Nigeria to appear in the English court despite being duly notified of judicial proceedings in England, did not qualify as submission to the jurisdiction of the English court.[8] Though this Supreme Court case was concerned with the recognition and enforcement of foreign judgments under the 1922 Ordinance, the logic of this decision can be way of analogy be applied in Tiger’s case to the effect that failure or refusal to appear to court proceedings cannot constitute submission. In this connection, the Court of Appeal’s decision in Tiger is therefore per incuriam.

It is illogical to hold that that a defendant who has failed or refused to appear to court proceedings has “delivered pleadings” or “taken steps in the proceedings” in the eyes of Section 5 of the ACA. A defendant is entitled to ignore court proceedings by sticking to the arbitration clause. This should also be seen as a pro-arbitration stance that is consistent with Nigeria’s approach of upholding the sanctity of arbitration agreements. Indeed, as stated in the introduction, Nigerian courts generally enforce arbitration agreements strictly.

The truth is that Tiger’s case reflects the attitude of some Nigerian judges to absentee defendants. Some Nigerian judges regard it as impolite for a defendant not to appear to court proceedings upon being duly notified. The preferable approach in Nigerian jurisprudence is to enter a conditional appearance and then challenge the jurisdiction of the court. Indeed, in Muhammed v Ajingi,[9] the Court of Appeal (Abiru JCA) unanimously held that a defendant who has been duly notified of proceedings but fails or refuses to appear to promptly challenge the jurisdiction of the court is deemed to have waived its right by submitting to the jurisdiction of the Nigerian court. Though, Muhammed v Ajingi was not an arbitration case, it demonstrates the attitude of some Nigerian judges to absentee defendants.

The Court of Appeal in Tiger was also wrong to have regarded the payment of an out of court settlement sum by the plaintiff-appellants to release the vessel as waiver by submitting to the jurisdiction of the court. Such an approach does not amount to delivering pleadings or taking steps in the proceedings in the eyes of Section 5 of the ACA. Indeed, in the earlier case of Confidence Insurance Ltd,[10] the Court of Appeal (Achike JCA) unanimously held that: “effort made out of court to settle the matter in controversy between the parties”[11] does not amount to submission in the eyes of Section 5 of the ACA. Nigerian courts should be seen to encourage out of court settlement. The Court of Appeal in Tiger did not explicitly have regard to Achike JCA’s judicial opinion in Confidence Insurance Ltd, though it cited the case. There is wisdom in Achike JCA’s judicial opinion. If the law is that efforts made towards out of court settlement amounts to submission, this might discourage a potential defendant from making out of court settlements, where there is the presence of a foreign arbitration clause.

Moreover, the payment of the settlement sum by the plaintiff/appellants was for the purpose of releasing their vessel which had been detained on the order of a Nigerian court. Comparatively, this has never qualified as submission to the jurisdiction of the court in England. Payment of settlement to release the vessel is hardly ever voluntary – the claimant in such maritime claims can use the arrest of the vessel as a way of wrongfully obtaining settlement. Indeed, there are English cases where damages have been awarded for wrongful detention of vessel despite the other party paying a settlement sum to the party that arrested the vessel.[12]

Tiger properly so called was an action in damages for breach of an international arbitration clause. Since it has been argued in this case that the plaintiff-appellants did not submit to the jurisdiction of the Nigerian court, damages should have been awarded for breach of the international arbitration clause.[13] If the Court of Appeal had adopted this approach, it would have honoured the Nigerian judiciary’s approach to generally and strictly enforce the sanctity of arbitration agreements. It was obvious in this case that the plaintiff-appellants suffered loss from the arrest of their ship in breach of an international arbitration clause. It is quite unfortunate that the Court of Appeal did not award compensation in this case.

Conclusion

It remains to the seen whether Tiger will go on appeal to the Nigerian Supreme Court. If it does go on appeal, it is proposed that the Supreme Court overturns the Court of Appeal’s decision. If it does not go on appeal to the Supreme Court, it is proposed that the Nigerian Court of Appeal and Supreme Court in future holds that the failure or refusal to appear to proceedings in breach of an international arbitration clause, and the payment of out of court settlement does not constitute waiver by submission to the jurisdiction of the Nigerian court.

*Postdoctoral Researcher in Private International Law at TMC Asser Institute, The Hague, and Barrister and Solicitor of the Supreme Court of Nigeria. The author can be reached at chukwuma.okoli@yahoo.com.

[1]Cap. A18, LFN 2004.

[2]The cases in support of this are numerous. It is sufficient to cite the Nigerian Supreme Court authorities: Owners of MV Lupex v Nigerian Overseas Chartering and Shipping Ltd (2003) 15 NWLR 469; Mainstreet Bank Capital Limited & Another v Nigeria Reinsurance Corporation Plc (2018) 14 NWLR (Pt. 1640) 423, 444 (Kekere-Ekun JSC). See also CSA Okoli and RF Oppong, Private International Law in Nigeria (Hart, 2020) 127-138.

[3]It is a matter if Section 5 of the ACA applies to only domestic arbitration, and not international commercial arbitration. In Owners of MV Lupex (supra n 2) the Nigerian Supreme Court applied Section 5 of the ACA to international commercial arbitration. However, in a later case of SPDCN Ltd v CIRN Ltd (2016) 9 NWLR (Pt. 1517) 300, 323 (Obaseki-Adejumo JCA), the Court of Appeal, relying on Section 58 of the ACA, held that the ACA only applies to domestic arbitration. If the Court of Appeal’s decision is correct, then Section 5 of the ACA only applies to domestic arbitration.

It is submitted that the Supreme Court’s position in Owners of MV Lupex is preferred for three reasons. First, Section 58 of the ACA means that the ACA applies in all States of the Federation, and not that the ACA applies only to domestic arbitration. Second, there is no specific provision that states that the ACA does not apply to international arbitration. Third, Part III of the ACA has a title which states that it relates to “ADDITIONAL PROVISIONS RELATING TO INTERNATIONAL ARBITRATION AND CONCILIATION.” This implies that the ACA governs domestic and international commercial arbitration, with Part III of the ACA making additional provisions relating to arbitration.

[4](2020) 14 NWLR (Pt. 1745) 418.

[5]Tiger (n 4) 453-4.

[6] Ibid 457.

[7]Obembe v Wemabod Estates Ltd. (1977) 5 SC 115 (Fatayi-Williams JSC as he then was); K.S.U.D.B. v Fanz Const; Ltd. (1990) 4 NWLR (Pt. 142) 1, 27 (Agbaje JCS), 50 (Obaseki JSC); Mainstreet Bank Capital Limited & Another v Nigeria Reinsurance Corporation Plc (2018) 14 NWLR (Pt. 1640) 423, 445-6, 452 (Kekere-Ekun JSC); Onward Ent. Ltd. v MV Matrix (2010) 2 NWLR (Pt. 1179) 530, 551; Federal Ministry of Health v Dascon (Nig.) Ltd (2019) 3 NWLR (Pt. 1658) 127, 139-140 (Abiriyi JCA); SCOA (Nig) Plc v Sterling Bank Plc ( 2016 ) LPELR-40566 (CA) (Oseji JCA as he then was) Sino-Africa Agriculture & Ind Company Ltd and Others v Ministry of Finance Incorporation and Another (2013) LPELR-22379 (CA) 1, 33 – 36, (2014) 10 NWLR (Pt. 1416) 515, 537 (Orji-Abadua JCA); Osun State Government v Dalami (Nig.) Ltd (2003) 7 NWLR (Pt. 818) 72, 93, 101 (Onalaja JCA); Confidence Insurance Ltd v Trustees of O.S.C.E. (1999) 2 NWLR (Pt.591) 373, 386 (Achike JCA as he then was).

[8]Grosvenor Casinos Ltd v Ghassan Halaoui (2009 ) 10 NWLR 309. In this case the Supreme Court was interpreting Section 3(2)(b) of the Reciprocal Enforcement of Judgments Act 1922, Cap 175 LFN 1958 (“1922 Ordinance”), which provides that the Nigerian court will refuse to register a foreign judgment where a judgment-debtor, being a person who was neither carrying on business nor ordinarily resident within the jurisdiction of the original court, did not voluntarily appear or otherwise submit or agree to submit to the jurisdiction of that court. This implies that not voluntarily appearing before a Nigerian court does not constitute submission despite being duly notified with court processes. Indeed, Section 3(2)(b) is a codification of Nigerian common law on what qualifies as submission as a basis of jurisdiction in private international law matters. Under common law, submission in establishing jurisdiction in private international law against a defendant can only be established where there is unconditional appearance, defending the case on its merits without challenging the court’s jurisdiction or counter-claim.

[9] (2013) LPELR-20372 (CA).

[10] (n 7).

[11] Ibid 386.

[12] See Gulf Azov Shipping Co Ltd v Chief Idisi (No.2) [2001] EWCA Civ 505; Kallang Shipping SA v AXA Assurance Senegal [2008] EWHC 2761 (Comm).

[13]See Okoli and Oppong (n 2) 138; JC Betancourt, “Damages for Breach of an International Arbitration Agreement under English Arbitration Law” (2018) 34 Arbitration International 511-532.

Forward to the Past: A Critical Note on the European Parliament’s Approach to Artificial Intelligence in Private International Law

October 22, 2020/in Views/by Jan von Hein

On 20 October 2020, the European Parliament adopted – with a large margin – a resolution with recommendations to the Commission on a civil liability regime for artificial intelligence (AI). The text of this resolution is available here; on other issues of AI that are part of a larger regulatory package, see the Parliament’s press release here. The draft regulation (DR) proposed in the resolution is noteworthy from a choice-of-law perspective because it introduces new, specific conflicts rules for artificial intelligence (AI) (on the general issues of AI and PIL, see the conference report by Stefan Arnold here). With regard to substantive law, the draft regulation distinguishes between legally defined high-risk AI systems (Art. 4 DR) and other AI systems involving a lower risk (Art. 8 DR). For high-risk AI systems, the draft regulation would introduce an independent set of substantive rules providing for strict liability of the system’s operator (Art. 4 DR). Further provisions deal with the amount of compensation (Art. 5 DR), the extent of compensation (Art. 6 DR) and the limitation period (Art. 7 DR). The spatial scope of those autonomous rules on strict liability for high-risk AI systems is determined by Article 2 DR, which reads as follows:

“1. This Regulation applies on the territory of the Union where a physical or virtual activity, device or process driven by an AI-system has caused harm or damage to the life, health, physical integrity of a natural person, to the property of a natural or legal person or has caused significant immaterial harm resulting in a verifiable economic loss.

Any agreement between an operator of an AI-system and a natural or legal person who suffers harm or damage because of the AI-system, which circumvents or limits the rights and obligations set out in this Regulation, concluded before or after the harm or damage occurred, shall be deemed null and void as regards the rights and obligations laid down in this Regulation.
This Regulation is without prejudice to any additional liability claims resulting from contractual relationships, as well as from regulations on product liability, consumer protection, anti-discrimination, labour and environmental protection between the operator and the natural or legal person who suffered harm or damage because of the AI-system and that may be brought against the operator under Union or national law.”

The unilateral conflicts rule found in Art. 2(1) DR would prevail over the Rome II Regulation on the law applicable to non-contractual relations pursuant to Art. 27 Rome II, which states that the Rome II Regulation shall not prejudice the application of provisions of EU law which, in relation to particular matters, lay down conflict-of-law rules relating to non-contractual obligations. Insofar, it must be noted that Art. 2(1) DR deviates considerably from the choice-of-law framework of Rome II. While Art. 2(1) DR reflects the lex loci damni approach enshrined as the general conflicts rule in the Rome II Regulation (Art. 4 Rome II), one must not overlook the fact that product liability is subject to a special conflicts rule, i.e. Art. 5 Rome II, which is considerably friendlier to the victim of a tort than the general conflicts rule. Recital 20 Rome II states that “[t]he conflict-of-law rule in matters of product liability should meet the objectives of fairly spreading the risks inherent in a modern high-technology society, protecting consumers’ health, stimulating innovation, securing undistorted competition and facilitating trade”. In order to achieve these purposes, the Rome II Regulation opts for a cascade of connections, starting with the law of the country in which the person sustaining the damage has his or her habitual residence when the damage occurred, provided that the product was marketed in that country (Art. 5(1)(a) Rome II). If that connection fails because the product was not marketed there, the law of the country in which the product was acquired governs, again provided that the product was marketed in this state (Art. 5(1)(b) Rome II). Finally, if that fails as well, the Regulation returns to the lex loci damni under Art. 5(1)(c) Rome II, if the product was marketed there. This cascade of connections is evidently influenced by the desire to protect the mobile consumer from being confronted with a law that may be purely accidental from his point of view because it has neither a relationship with the legal environment that he is accustomed to (his habitual residence) nor to the place where he decided to expose himself to the danger possibly emanating from the product (place of acquisition). The rule reflects the presumption that most consumers will be affected by a defective product in the country where they are habitually resident. Insofar, Art. 2(1) DR is, in comparison with the Rome II Regulation, friendlier to the operator of a high-risk AI system than to the consumer.

Even if one limits the comparison between Art. 2(1) DR and the Rome II Regulation to the latter’s general rule (Art. 4 Rome II), it is striking that the DR does not adopt familiar approaches that allow for deviating from a strict adherence to lex loci damni. Contrary to Art. 4(2) Rome II, where the person claimed to be liable and the person sustaining damage both have their habitual residence in the same country at the time when the damage occurs, Art. 2 DR does not allow to apply the law of that country. Moreover, an escape clause such as Art. 4(3) or Art. 5(2) Rome II is missing in Art. 2 DR. Finally yet importantly, Art. 2(2) DR bars any party autonomy with regard to strict liability for a high-risk AI system, which deviates strongly from the liberal approach found in Art. 14 Rome II.

Apart from the operator’s strict liability for high-risk AI systems, the draft regulation would introduce a fault-based liability rule for other AI systems (Art. 8 DR). In principle, the spatial scope of the latter liability rule would also be determined by Art. 2 DR as already described. However, unlike the comprehensive set of rules on strict liability for high-risk systems, the draft regulation’s model of fault-based liability is not completely autonomous. Rather, the latter type of liability contains important carve-outs regarding the amounts and the extent of compensation as well as the statute of limitations. Pursuant to Art. 9 DR, those issues are left to the domestic laws of the Member States. More precisely, Art. 9 DR provides that

“Civil liability claims brought in accordance with Article 8(1) shall be subject, in relation to limitation periods as well as the amounts and the extent of compensation, to the laws of the Member State in which the harm or damage occurred.”

Thus, we find a lex loci damni approach with regard to fault-based liability as well. Again, all the modern approaches codified in the Rome II Regulation – the cascade of connecting factors for product liability claims, the common habitual residence rule, the escape clause, and party autonomy – are strikingly absent from the draft regulation.

Moreover, the draft regulation, in principle, limits its personal scope to the liability of the operator alone (as legally defined in Art. 3(d)–(f) DR). Recital 9 of the resolution explains that the European Parliament “[c]onsiders that the existing fault-based tort law of the Member States offers in most cases a sufficient level of protection for persons that suffer harm caused by an interfering third party like a hacker or for persons whose property is damaged by such a third party, as the interference regularly constitutes a fault-based action; notes that only for specific cases, including those where the third party is untraceable or impecunious, does the addition of liability rules to complement existing national tort law seem necessary”. Thus, for third parties, the conflicts rules of Rome II would continue to apply.

At first impression, it seems rather strange that a regulation on a very modern technology – artificial intelligence – should deploy a conflicts approach that seems to have more in common with Joseph Beale’s First Restatement of the 1930’s than with the modern and differentiated set of conflicts rules codified by the EU itself at the beginning of the 21st century, i.e. the Rome II Regulation. While the European Parliament’s resolution, in its usual introductory part, diligently enumerates all EU regulations and directives dealing with substantive issues of liability, the Rome II Regulation is not mentioned once in the Recitals. One wonders whether the members of Parliament were aware of the European Union’s acquis in the field of private international law all. In sum, compared with Rome II, the conflicts approach of the draft regulation would be a regrettable step backwards. It remains to be seen how the relationship between the draft regulation and Rome II will be designed and fine-tuned in the further course of legislation.