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Child abduction in times of corona

By Nadia Rusinova

Currently large increases in COVID-19 cases and deaths continue to be reported from the EU/EEA countries and the UK. In addition, in recent weeks, the European all-cause mortality monitoring system showed increases above the expected rate in Belgium, France, Italy, Malta, Spain, Switzerland and the United Kingdom.

It is not unreasonable to predict that COVID-19 will be used increasingly as a justification in law for issuing non-return order by the Court in international child abduction proceedings, return being seen as a “grave risk” for the child and raised as an assertion under Article 13(b) of the Hague Convention.

What would be the correct response to these challenging circumstances, when the best interest of the child in child abduction proceedings calls for restoration of status quo ante under the Hague convention on the Civil Aspects of International Child Abduction (hereinafter: the Convention)? This post will focus on the recent judgment [2020] EWHC 834 (Fam), issued on 31 March 2020 by the High Court of England and Wales (Family Division) seen in the light of the ECtHR case law on the child abduction, providing brief analysis and suggesting answer to the question if the return of the child to the state of its habitual residence in the outbreak of COVID-19 can constitute grave risk for the child under Article 13(b) of the Convention, and how the practitioners and the Court should approach these assertions in the present pandemic situation.

The facts of Re PT [2020] EWHC 834 (Fam)

PT (the abducted child) and both of her parents are all Spanish nationals. PT was born in 2008 and had lived all of her life in Spain, until she was brought to England by her mother, HH, in February 2020. She is the only child of the parents’ relationship. They separated in 2009. Following the parents’ separation, legal proceedings were brought in Spain by the mother concerning PT’s welfare. A judgment was issued in these proceedings by the Spanish Courts on 25 May 2012, providing for the mother to have custody and for parental responsibility for the child to be shared by both parties. The order provided for the father to have contact with PT on alternate weekends from after school on Friday until Sunday evening. In addition, she was to spend half of each school holiday with each parent. The order also required that the parents should inform each other of any change in address thirty days in advance.

On or about 13 February 2020, the mother travelled to England with PT. The mother’s partner (with whom she is expecting a child the following month) lives in the South East of England, and they have moved in with him. The evidence on behalf of the father is that the child was removed from Spain by the mother without his knowledge or consent.

The father asked the mother to return PT to Spain, but she refused to do so. The father travelled to the UK and met with the mother and PT at a shopping centre. However, the mother again refused to permit the child to return to Spain. She did however permit PT (and S) to spend a night with the father at his hotel in England.

The case first came before the Court on 10 March 2020 on a “without notice” basis. At that hearing the mother attended in person, and indicated that she would be seeking to defend the application on the basis of (1) the father’s consent and / or acquiescence and (2) Article 13(b) of the Hague convention – claiming existence of a grave risk that a return would expose the child to physical or psychological harm or otherwise place the child in an intolerable situation.

On that occasion PT was, as directed by the judge, present in the Court vicinity to be interviewed by the CAFCASS (Children and Family Court Advisory and Support Service) Officer. She told CAFCASS that she had not wanted to come to England, and that she wanted to be with her father, although she did not want to be separated from her mother either. PT’s clear wish was that she wanted to return to Spain with her father rather than stay in England.

The judgment

The Court is entirely satisfied on the evidence that PT is habitually resident in Spain as she had lived there all of her life until she was recently brought to the UK. In this case the Court ruled that PT has been wrongfully removed from Spain within the terms of Article 3 of the Convention and that none of the Article 13 defences have been made out. Therefore, return order for the summary return of PT to Spain has been made.

Comments

First of all, in such cases the Court should unavoidably take the challenge to identify the risks for the child in case of return in the context of the pandemic situation. Indeed, in the present case the formulation is rather simplified. Therefore and due to the lack of case law on this issue, and in order to be able to answer the question if the return of the child would pose a grave risk, we should take a look also at the recently published Guide to Good Practice on Article 13(1)(b) (hereinafter: the Guide) by the Hague Conference On Private International Law (HCCH) and the concept of “grave risk” in child abduction proceedings in general, as set by the ECtHR in its case law.

In general, the grave risk exception in child abduction cases is based on “the primary interest of any person in not being exposed to physical or psychological danger or being placed in an intolerable situation”, as stated in the § 29 of the Explanatory report to the Hague Convention. The general assumption that a prompt return is in the best interests of the child can therefore be rebutted in the individual case where an exception is established. It is important to note that the exception provided for in Article 13(b) concerns only situations which go beyond what a child might reasonably be expected to bear (Ushakov v. Russia § 97, X v. Latvia § 116, Maumousseau and Washington v. France §§ 69 and 73, K.J. v. Poland §§ 64 and 67)

In § 46-48 of the discussed judgment the Court points final argument relates to the risk of physical harm that is presented by the current coronavirus pandemic in the following way:

“…This risk presents itself in two ways:

(1) The pandemic is more advanced in Spain than in the UK. As at the date of the preparation of this judgment (29 March) the official death toll stood at 1,228 in the UK and 6,528 in Spain. It could therefore be argued that PT would be at greater risk of contracting the virus in Spain than in the UK.

(2) The increased risk of infection that is posed by international travel at this time.”

Did the Court explore all possible harm that the return order can bring, and since it is recognized that the risk is present, what specific kind of risk the return of the child would constitute in the context of the pandemic situation – physical or psychological danger, or being placed in an intolerable situation?

The way the Court approached this issue is a very basic attempt to identify the risks that a return order in the outbreak of COVID-19 can bring to the child. As the Guide points in § 31, although separate, the three types of risk are often employed together, and Courts have not always clearly distinguished among them in their decisions. It is clear that the return could bring physical danger of contamination with COVID-19 together with all possible complications, despite the fact that child is not in the at-risk groups as are the elderly or other chronically ill people. But we should not underestimate the psychological aspect of the pandemic situation. As the coronavirus pandemic rapidly sweeps across the world, the World Health Organisation has already, a month earlier, stated that it is inducing a considerable degree of fear, worry, and concern in the population. It is therefore out-of-the-question that for a relatively mature child (in this case of 12 years old), whether the  ability to watch, read or listen to news about COVID-19 can make the child feel anxious or distressed and therefore can, and most likely will, bring also psychological harm to it. In this sense the potential psychological harm is inevitable and whilst the physical harm can or cannot happen, and indeed the contamination cannot be foreseen, in any case with the return order (especially to a state with significant risk of increasing community transmission of COVID-19) the psychological integrity of the child will be put at immediate risk.

In order to explore how this risk can be adequately assessed in child abduction proceedings in the context of the COVID-19, we should look at § 62 of the Guide, where HCCH explicitly discusses risks associated with the child’s health, stating that “In cases involving assertions associated with the child’s health, the grave risk analysis must focus on the availability of treatment in the State of habitual residence, and not on a comparison between the relative quality of care in each State”. How is this applicable to the pandemic situation, if at all? It seems like the only adequate response in these fast-changing unprecedented circumstances would be that the Court should indeed not compare the situations in both states, but still having in mind the nature of the COVID-19, to try to foresee the developments, relying on the general and country-specific health organizations reports, accessible nowadays online in a relatively easy way.

As a first step the Court should consider whether the assertions are of such a nature, with sufficient detail and substance that they could constitute a grave risk, as overly broad or general assertions are unlikely to be sufficient. In this situation, without precedent in the history of the Convention’s application, holding that “Although the course of the pandemic is clearly more advanced in Spain than in the UK, I do not have any evidence from which I can draw a conclusion that either country is any more or less safe than the other… I am simply not in a possession to make any findings as to the relative likelihood of contracting the virus in each country. On the material before me, all that I can conclude is that there is a genuine risk that PT could contract the virus whether she remains in England or returns to Spain.” does not fulfil the obligation of the Court to assess the risk in full, in all its possible implications. The Court is obliged to conduct the step-by-step analysis, prescribed by and explained in the Guide, and to examine the types of risk for the child, assessing it separately and in the context of their deep interrelation in these specific circumstances.

Secondly, the wording of Article 13(b) also indicates that the exception is “forward-looking” in that it focuses on the circumstances of the child upon return and on whether those circumstances would expose the child to a grave risk. Therefore, ECtHR is clear that in any case (regardless the context and for sure not only in cases with history of domestic violence), where such assertions have been raised, the Courts should satisfy themselves that adequate safeguards and tangible measures are available in the country of return  (Andersena v. Latvia §118, Blaga v. Romania §71).

In addition, as the Guide points in § 53, Article 13(b) analysis should be always be highly factually specific. Each Court determination as to the application or non-application of the exception is therefore unique, based on the particular circumstances of the case. A careful step-by-step analysis of an asserted grave risk is therefore always required, in accordance with the legal framework of the Hague convention, including the exception as explained in the Guide. When we discuss this issue, not only the Convention, but also Article 11(4) of Brussels IIa applies in answering the question of, what in the case of COVID-19 are “adequate safeguards”. This is, without a doubt, a question difficult to answer to with certainty, as the case law of the ECtHR and the Guides do not contain any directions or good practices on the behaviour of the domestic authorities in times of pandemic.

In the present case the judge estimated as “tangible safeguards” the following “number of undertakings”, offered by the father, effective until the matter could be brought before the Spanish Court, and intended to support PT’s return to Spain. They include: (1) Lodging the final order in Spain; (2) Not pursuing any criminal charges against the mother for her wrongful removal of PT from Spain to England; (3) Seeking to mediate with the mother on PT’s return in relation to the mother’s access; (4) Agreeing to unrestricted indirect contact between PT and her maternal family (especially with the mother and S):(5) Agreeing to direct contact for PT with her mother in Spain and England, to the extent that is possible or appropriate from a public health perspective given the current global pandemic;(6) Meeting with the mother only at neutral and/or public places when picking or dropping PT off;(7) To pay PT’s maintenance and school fees pending any further determination about maintenance by the Spanish Courts; and (8) To pay all the travelling costs (flights) for PT of travelling to and from England for the purposes of contact with the mother.”

It looks like the Court is indeed satisfied with the undertakings, but unfortunately, these examples are far from adequate protective measures when we consider the grave risk induced by return in the current pandemic situation. None are directed to prevention of the grave risk as raised by the mother, and none are related to the child’s health. Better examples remain to be seen from the upcoming case law of the Courts, but in the current situation, a strong focus should remain on comprehensive testing and surveillance strategies (including contact tracing), community measures (including physical distancing), strengthening of healthcare systems and informing the public and health community. Therefore, following the Guide, such measures should at the minimum include rapid risk assessment upon arrival at the state of habitual residence, application of different types of available COVID-19 Rapid Tests, ensuring social distance and exploring online education possibilities, providing guarantees that the child will be isolated and distanced from potentially infected people (through evidence for appropriate living conditions upon return), etc. Strong focus should also be put on the possibilities for mental support for the child, bearing in mind the extremely stressful situation, related not only the COVID-19 but also to additional factors such as the separation from the other parent and the mental consequences from the forced social isolation which, as pointed above, would inevitably affect the mental wellbeing of the child.

The next question is who should prove the risk, and its gravity in this specific situation?  Following the ECtHR case law, the burden of proof traditionally lies with the party opposing the child’s return  (Ushakov v. Russia, § 97). In this case the abducting parent indeed shall prove the grave risk, but it is true that the COVID-19 situation itself and the wide-spread precautions and information contribute a lot to proving this risk. Yet, what in the current pandemic circumstances is still to be proved by the abducting parent?

According to § 49 of the Guide, even if a Court ex officio gathers information or evidence (in accordance with domestic procedures), or if the person or body which has lodged the return application is not actively involved in the proceedings, the Court must be satisfied that the burden of proof to establish the exception has been met by the party objecting to return. However, in these specific circumstances, the national and international situation is developing at such speed that any evidence that could be gathered would be likely to be immediately outdated. Something very convenient for the abducting parent, it would be almost enough if the Court ex officio conducts check on the actual COVID-19 information regarding the state of habitual residence of the child, ensuring it is current when issuing the return or non-return order. However, this does not relieve the opposing party from the procedural obligation to present evidence as accurately as possible, and it remains important that arrangements regarding the “tangible safeguards”, discussed above, are offered and supported by evidence by the party which claims the return order.

There is a further discretionary ground in the Convention which permits a refusal of a return in certain circumstances where the child objects. According to Article 12 UNCRC, the child has the right to express its views freely, these views to be given due weight in accordance with age and maturity, and the Court should carefully examine them together with the other evidence (and not to provide stereotyped reasoning). The COVID-19 limitations raise the question should the child still be heard in this context and, if yes, how this should happen such that the risk for is minimised? Obviously, this right cannot and should not be waived in times when many procedural actions can take place online. It is worth to note that next to the existing legislation, Brussels IIa recast (Regulation 1111/2019, in force as of August 2022) pays special attention to the strengthening of the right of the child to express his or her view, reinforcing it with special provision – Article 26 in Chapter III “International child abduction”, in compliance with a detailed Recital 39. No minimum age is prescribed, but also no rules who can conduct the hearing of the child, how it must happen and where it should be conducted are set. Therefore, the hearing of the child should take place following the general conditions, and while the personal impression will indeed be reduced, and the possibilities to manipulate the child could potentially increase, the unlimited online tools to conduct the hearing eliminate the risk of contamination and offers acceptable solution for this emergency situation.

To get back to the discussed case – Re PT [2020] EWHC 834 (Fam), the Court is satisfied that the Art 13(b) defence has not been made out in this case. Many more comments could be made on the Courts assessment – the best interest of the child is not touched upon, the domestic violence is not discussed at all as an additional assertion, etc. One positive conclusion from procedural point of view is that the urgency has been taken into account, and that the Court made full use of the opportunities to conduct the proceedings online. Of course we cannot say that the return of a child during the COVID-19 pandemic constitutes a grave risk in all child abduction cases– but we can at least begin to build the good practices in this unprecedented time, when the “lockdown” will bring brand new meaning to the notion of “grave risk” under the Convention.

Nadia Rusinova is an attorney-at-law and lecturer in International and European private law at The Hague University, Netherlands. Next to her teaching and research activities, she is a regular ERA speaker and judicial trainer in children’s rights and international family law, delivering multidisciplinary trainings for legal professionals on international child abduction, children’s rights, ECtHR case law in family matters, LGBTQ rights, gender-inclusive language and trafficking of children. She is appointed as an expert in these areas of law in various projects, involving countries of broad geographic range. Originally Bulgarian, she holds an LL.M. degree from Sofia University, and for more than 15 years she has been successfully managing a specialized international family law office in Sofia, Bulgaria.

The Hague Convention on Child Abduction and UK Overseas Territories: VB v TR

Written by Elijah Granet

In a recent decision of the Family Division of the English and Welsh High Court—VB v TR (Re RR) [2020] EWFC  28, Mr Justice Mostyn highlighted a lacuna in the protection of children from abduction under the 1980 Hague Convention on the Civil Aspects of International Child Abduction (‘the Convention’).  As a result of what Mr Justice Mostyn (at para 7) refers to  as a ‘colonial anachronism’, unconsented removals of children from the British overseas territory of Bermuda to the UK proper fall outside the remit of either the convention or domestic law.

Facts

VB and TR are parents from Bermuda with a young son, RR.  In 2019, TR removed RR from Bermuda secretly, without the consent of VB, and in violation of Bermudian court orders.  The UK ratified the 1980 Convention on the Civil Aspects of International Child Abduction in 1986 and implemented it domestically by way of the Child Abduction and Custody Act 1985.  Section 28(1)(c) of that Act enables the UK to extend the effect of the Convention to Overseas Territories by means of an Order in Council.  However, Bermuda, which enjoys full internal self-governance (with its own laws, parliament, and courts) instead passed the International Child Abduction Act 1988, which essentially transposed the 1985 Act into Bermudian law.  As a consequence, the UK made an Article 39 Notification  declaring that the Convention applied to Bermuda, which is now listed in the annex of authorities required by Article 18 of the Convention.

Decision

As both Bermuda and the UK are signatories to the Convention, one would expect that arrangements for the return of RR could be easily carried out.  Mr Justice Mostyn notes (at para 12), if TR had gone to the USA (or indeed, any state other than the UK), the Convention would unquestionably applied as Bermuda is listed in the aforementioned annex of authorities.  The problem arises because, for the purposes of the Convention, the UK and Bermuda are a single state party; therefore, because there is no ‘international’ element to child abduction between the UK and Bermuda, the Convention is not considered to apply.  This ‘counterintuitive’   (para 21) state of affairs has caused confusion, including a 2014 ruling which (mistakenly) held that Bermuda is not a party to the Convention.

Of course, there is no inherent problem with the Convention being inapplicable between different British jurisdictions. For example, if a parent who removed a child from  Northern Ireland to England against a court order, the English court would automatically recognize the Northern Irish court order under the Family Law Act 1986, s 25, which provides for mutual enforcement of family court orders across the UK. However, that Act does not apply to Bermuda, because Bermuda is not a part of the United Kingdom (whatever the Convention might say).  A Bermudian court is, for all intents and purposes, a foreign court in the eyes of the law of England and Wales.

Thus, there is a paradoxical and frustrating outcome: for the purposes of the Convention, Bermuda is part of the UK, but, for the purposes of  English and Welsh family law, Bermuda is a foreign country. This is contrary to the intention of both the Bermudian and British Parliaments in implementing the Convention: namely, to prevent the unlawful abduction of children. The result is that Mr Justice Mostyn, rather than beginning with the presumption that RR should be returned (as he would under the Convention) or automatically implementing the Bermudian court’s order (as he would with a court from a ‘domestic’ UK jurisdiction), was forced to essentially ignore the Bermudian court’s order, and to circuitously employ a complex legal test under the Children Act 1989, s 1(1) to determine if it would be in the interests of the welfare of RR for him to be returned to Bermuda. Mr Justice Mostyn ultimately held that it was in the child’s best interests to return to Bermuda, albeit at a time more conducive to international travel than the current pandemic. The only alternative route would be to employ the test for the recognition of foreign custodial orders set out by the Privy Council in C v C (Jersey) [2019] UKPC 40, which focuses on questions of public policy rather than the child’s welfare.

Comment

The lacuna in the UK’s regime for protecting against child abduction is, as Mr Justice Mostyn correctly put it (at para 12), ‘an embarrassment’. The defect in this very important area of the law was so severe that the judge felt it appropriate to state (in the same paragraphs) , bluntly, ‘the law needs to be changed’—either to add Bermuda (and other overseas territories) to the domestic list of recognised Hague Convention authorities,  or to extend the automatic recognition of orders under the Family Law Act to all British Overseas Territories. Either option would be a welcome and necessary respite from the current state of affairs, by which abduction from a territory party to the Convention (Bermuda) to another party (the UK) is not covered by the law.  In a matter as serious as this, it is astonishing that, two decades after Bermuda joined the Convention, there is still no UK framework for ensuring the swift return of abducted children to their homes.

Choice of Australian Aboriginal Customary Law

The relationship between the conflict of laws and constitutional law is close in many legal systems, and Australia is no exception. Leading Australian conflict of laws cases, including, for example, John Pfeiffer Pty Ltd v Rogerson (2000) 203 CLR 503, which adopted a lex loci delicti rule for intra-Australian torts, are premised on public law concepts essential to our federation. These cases illustrate how the conflict of laws bleeds into other disciplines.

Love v Commonwealth [2020] HCA 3 is a recent decision of the High Court of Australia that highlights the breadth and blurry edges of our discipline. Most legal commentators would characterise the case in terms of constitutional law and migration law. The Court considered a strange question: can an Aboriginal Australian be an ‘alien’?

Policy background

Australia’s disposition to migration is controversial to say the least. Our government’s migration policies, which often enjoy bi-partisan support, are a source of embarrassment for many Australians. One controversial migration policy involves New Zealanders. Australia and New Zealand enjoy a very close relationship on several fronts, including with respect to private international law: see the Trans-Tasman Proceedings Act 2010 (Cth). New Zealanders often enjoy privileges in Australia that are not afforded to persons of other nationality.

Yet recently, Australia began to deport New Zealanders who had committed crimes in Australia no matter how long they had lived in Australia. In February, New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern said that the policy was ‘testing’ our countries’ friendship. Australian Prime Minister Scott Morrison replied, ‘[w]e deport non-citizens who have committed crimes in Australia against our community’. Sections of the Australian community are seeking to change Australia’s policy on point, which is effected by the Migration Act 1958 (Cth).

Facts and issues

The Court heard two special cases together. As Kiefel CJ explained: ‘[e]ach of the plaintiffs was born outside Australia – Mr Love in Papua New Guinea and Mr Thoms in New Zealand. They are citizens of those countries. They have both lived in Australia for substantial periods as holders of visas which permitted their residence but which were subject to revocation. They did not seek to become Australian citizens’.

Section 501(3A) of the Migration Act requires the Minister for Home Affairs to a cancel a person’s visa if they have been convicted of an offence for which a sentence of imprisonment of 12 months or more is provided. Each of the plaintiffs committed crimes and had their visas cancelled. The effect of which was that they became ‘unlawful non-citizens’ who could be removed from Australia.

The plaintiffs’ cases turned on s 51(xix) of the Commonwealth Constitution, which provides:

The Parliament shall, subject to this Constitution, have power to make laws for the peace, order, and good government of the Commonwealth with respect to… naturalization and aliens…

The plaintiffs contended that they were outside the purview of the Migration Act, the Australian Citizenship Act 2007 (Cth) and s 51(xix) because they each had a special status as a ‘non-citizen, non-alien’. ‘They say that they have that status because although they are non-citizens they cannot be aliens because they are Aboriginal persons’: [3]. Each plaintiff arguably satisfied the tripartite test for Aboriginality recognised at common law and considered below. Thoms was even a native title holder.

The High Court was asked to consider whether each plaintiff was an ‘alien’ within the meaning of s 51(xix) of the Constitution. Kiefel CJ clarified that the question is better understood as follows: ‘whether it is open to the Commonwealth Parliament to treat persons having the characteristics of the plaintiffs as non?citizens for the purposes of the Migration Act’: [4].

The High Court split

The High Court’s seven justices departed from usual practice and each offered their own reasons. The majority of four (Bell, Nettle, Gordon and Edelman JJ) answered as follows:

The majority considers that Aboriginal Australians (understood according to the tripartite test in Mabo v Queensland [No 2] (1992) 175 CLR 1 at 70) are not within the reach of the “aliens” power conferred by s 51(xix) of the Constitution. The majority is unable, however, to agree as to whether the plaintiff is an Aboriginal Australian on the facts stated in the special case and, therefore, is unable to answer this question.

Arcioni and Thwaites explain: ‘The majority rested their reasoning on the connection of Aboriginal Australians with Australian land and waters. Aboriginal Australians were a unique, sui generis case, such that Aboriginality may generate a class of constitutional members (non-aliens) who are statutory non-citizens’. The minority of Kiefel CJ, Gageler and Keane JJ dissented for different reasons. A common theme of those reasons was that ‘alien’ is the antonym of ‘citizen’.

Is this a choice of law case?

The case is about constitutional law. It is also about status. ‘Alienage or citizenship is a status created by law’: [177] per Keane J. One understanding of the difference between the majority and minority is a difference in opinion as to the applicable law to determine status as ‘alien’ in this context.

According to Nettle J, ‘status [as a member of an Australian Aboriginal society] is inconsistent with alienage’: [272]. ‘Aboriginal Australians are not outsiders or foreigners – they are the descendants of the first peoples of this country, the original inhabitants, and they are recognised as such’: [335] per Gordon J. The majority appealed to the common law’s recognition of native title rights underpinned by traditional laws and customs in support of their analyses (see, eg, [339]).

The minority denied that status as Aboriginal could determine whether a person has the status of an ‘alien’ within the meaning of the Constitution.

Recognition of non-state law?

Nettle J quoted (at [269]) the following passage from the native title case Yorta Yorta Aboriginal Community v Victoria (2002) 214 CLR 422, 445 [49] (Gleeson CJ, Gummow and Hayne JJ):

Laws and customs do not exist in a vacuum. They are, in Professor Julius Stone’s words, ‘socially derivative and non-autonomous’. As Professor Honoré has pointed out, it is axiomatic that ‘all laws are laws of a society or group’. Or as was said earlier, in Paton’s Jurisprudence, ‘law is but a result of all the forces that go to make society’. Law and custom arise out of and, in important respects, go to define a particular society. In this context, ‘society’ is to be understood as a body of persons united in and by its acknowledgment and observance of a body of law and customs.

The status of the laws and customs of Australia’s Aboriginal peoples has been the subject of case consideration for decades. In Milirrpum v Nabalco Pty Ltd (1971) 17 FLR 141, 267, for example, Blackburn J said:

The evidence shows a subtle and elaborate system highly adapted to the country in which the people led their lives, which provided a stable order of society and was remarkably free from the vagaries of personal whim or influence. If ever a system could be called “a government of laws, and not of men”, it is that shown in the evidence before me.

Later, in Mabo (No 2), the High Court finally recognised the significance of those laws to recognition of native title. In that case, the Court articulated a tripartite test for whether a person is an Aboriginal Australian: biological descent, self-identification, and recognition by the relevant Aboriginal community (see [291] per Gordon J). As explained further below, satisfaction of this test depends on application of traditional laws and customs. Arguably, satisfaction of the test requires recognition of the positive force of that non-state law.

Against that, Keane J held, ‘[t]he common law’s recognition of customary native title does not entail the recognition of an Aboriginal community’s laws’: [202]. Rather, it goes the other way: Aboriginal laws are necessary for recognition of native title. Kiefel J also explicitly rejected recognition of Aboriginal customary law: ‘[i]t is not the traditional laws and customs which are recognised by the common law. It is native title … which is the subject of recognition by the common law, and to which the common law will give effect. The common law cannot be said by extension to accept or recognise traditional laws and customs as having force or effect in Australia’: [37]. Arguably, this means that there is no choice of law at play in this case: there is just one law at issue, being the law of Australia.

Yet even in transnational cases within the traditional domain of the conflict of laws, Australian courts will only apply foreign laws via application of the lex fori: Pfeiffer, [40]–[41]; Nygh’s Conflict of Laws in Australia, ch 12. For practical purposes, the majority approach does recognise Aboriginal non-state law as capable of application to resolve certain issues of (non-Aboriginal) Australian law.

A choice of law rule?

Nettle J came close to articulation of a new intra-Australian choice of law rule at [271]:

for present purposes, the most significant of the traditional laws and customs of an Aboriginal society are those which allocate authority to elders and other persons to decide questions of membership. Acceptance by persons having that authority, together with descent (an objective criterion long familiar to the common law of status) and self-identification (a protection of individual autonomy), constitutes membership of an Aboriginal society: a status recognised at the “intersection of traditional laws and customs with the common law”.

If there is a choice of law rule in there, its significance might be expressed through this syllogism:

  • P1. Whether a person is capable of being deported after committing a serious crime depends on whether they are an ‘alien’.
  • P2. Whether a person is an ‘alien’ depends on whether they are ‘Aboriginal’.
  • P3. Whether a person is ‘Aboriginal’ depends on whether they satisfy the tripartite test in Mabo [No 2] with respect to a particular Aboriginal society.
  • P4. Whether a person satisfies the tripartite test turns on the customary law of the relevant Aboriginal society.

Like questions of foreign law, ‘[w]hether a person is an Aboriginal Australian is a question of fact’: [75] per Bell J. How does one prove the content of the relevant Aboriginal law? Proof of traditional laws and customs often occurs in native title cases. It was considered at [281] per Nettle J:

It was contended by the Commonwealth that it might often prove difficult to establish that an Aboriginal society has maintained continuity in the observance of its traditional laws and customs since the Crown’s acquisition of sovereignty over the Australian territory. No doubt, that is so. But difficulty of proof is not a legitimate basis to hold that a resident member of an Aboriginal society can be regarded as an alien in the ordinary sense of the term. It means only that some persons asserting that status may fail to establish their claims. There is nothing new about disputed questions of fact in claims made by non-citizens that they have an entitlement to remain in this country.

Minority critique of the choice of law approach

As a dissentient in the minority, Gageler J offered a compelling critique of what I construe to be the choice of law approach of the majority (at [137]):

To concede capacity to decide who is and who is not an alien from the perspective of the body politic of the Commonwealth of Australia to a traditional Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander society or to a contemporary Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander community, or to any other discrete segment of the people of Australia, would be to concede to a non?constitutional non?representative non?legally?accountable sub?national group a constitutional capacity greater than that conferred on any State Parliament. Yet that would be the practical effect of acceptance of either of the first and second variations of the plaintiffs’ argument.

The choice of non-state law is arguably made more controversial by the character of those laws’ content. Nettle J explained at [276]: ‘As is now understood, central to the traditional laws and customs of Aboriginal communities was, and is, an essentially spiritual connection with “country”, including a responsibility to live in the tracks of ancestral spirits and to care for land and waters to be handed on to future generations’. Gordon J held at [290], ‘[t]hat connection is spiritual or metaphysical’. Tacit in the majority’s mode of analysis, then, is that a person’s spiritual or religious views can have an impact on their status as an ‘alien’, or otherwise, within the Commonwealth Constitution. (A once-Aboriginal non-citizen who lacks those spiritual views and renounces their membership of their Aboriginal society may still be an ‘alien’ following this case: see [279], [372].) From a secular perspective within an increasingly secular nation, that is a striking proposition.

Conclusion

This is not the first time that the relationship between the conflict of laws and issues affecting indigenous peoples has been considered. More generally, whether non-state law may be the subject of choice of law is a topic that has been considered many times before. One of the factors that makes Love v Commonwealth unique, from an Australian legal perspective, is the majority’s effective choice of Aboriginal customary law to determine an important issue of status without really disturbing the common law proposition that Aboriginal groups lack political sovereignty within the Australian federation (see [37], [102], [199]). COVID-19 may have stalled sought after changes to the Australian Constitution with respect to recognition of indigenous peoples (see (2019) 93 Australian Law Journal 929), yet it remains on the national agenda. In any event, Australia’s very white judiciary may not be the best forum for recognition of the sovereignty of Australian Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.

News

HCCH Monthly Update: May 2023

Conventions & Instruments

On 12 May 2023, Canada deposited its instrument of accession to the 1961 Apostille Convention. This accession marked a historical milestone: the 1000th treaty action relating to an HCCH Convention or Protocol. The 1961 Apostille Convention, which now has 125 Contracting Parties, will enter into force for Canada on 11 January 2024. More information is available here.

On 16 May 2023, North Macedonia signed the 2019 Judgments Convention. The Convention, which currently has 28 Contracting Parties, will enter into force in September 2023, and for North Macedonia only after the deposit of an instrument of ratification (pursuant to Art. 28(2) of the Convention). More information is available here.

On 16 May 2023, Singapore deposited its instrument of accession to the 1965 Service Convention. The Convention, which now has 81 Contracting Parties, will enter into force for Singapore on 1 December 2023 subject to the Article 28 procedure. More information is available here.

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Last minute registration welcome: “The HCCH 2019 Judgments Convention: Cornerstones – Prospects – Outlook”, 9 and 10 June 2023, University of Bonn

Just a quick note to assure you that last minute registration is welcome. All information is available here.

Friendly reminder: Lecture on Private International Law and Voices of Children, organized in cooperation with ConflictofLaws.net

This is a friendly reminder to our co-organised event on next Thursday, free admissions can be registered here.

Online event

When making decisions, adults should think about how their decisions will affect children. Recent years have witnessed, in private international law cases and legislation, the protection of children is increasingly mingled with gender, indigenous issues, refugees, violence, war, surrogacy technology, etc. This is evidenced by the US Supreme Court 2022 judgment Golan v. Saada, the Australian case Secretary, Department of Communities & Justice v Bamfield, the 2023 German Constitutional Court decision, the Chinese Civil Codethe Australia Family Law (Child Abduction Convention) Amendment (Family Violence) Regulations 2022, and developments at the Hague Conference on Private International Law (HCCH Children Conventions) and the United Nations (Convention on the Rights of the Child and its additional Protocols).

On this International Children’s Day, let us join this CAPLUS webinar in cooperation with conflictoflaws.net and American Society of International Law Private International Law Interest Group to hear voices of children in private international law.

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