OPINION OF THE COURT
HAMDAN V. RUMSFELD
548 U. S. ____ (2006)
SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES
NO. 05-184
SALIM AHMED HAMDAN, PETITIONER
v. DONALD
H. RUMSFELD, SECRETARY OF DEFENSE, et al.
on writ of certiorari to the united states court of
appeals for the district of columbia circuit
[June 29, 2006]
Justice Stevens announced the
judgment of the Court and delivered the opinion of the Court with
respect to Parts I through IV, Parts VI through VI–D–iii, Part
VI–D–v, and Part VII, and an opinion with respect to Parts V and
VI–D–iv, in which Justice Souter, Justice Ginsburg, and Justice
Breyer join.
Petitioner Salim Ahmed Hamdan, a
Yemeni national, is in custody at an American prison in Guantanamo
Bay, Cuba. In November 2001, during hostilities between the United
States and the Taliban (which then governed Afghanistan), Hamdan
was captured by militia forces and turned over to the U. S.
military. In June 2002, he was transported to Guantanamo Bay. Over
a year later, the President deemed him eligible for trial by
military commission for then-unspecified crimes. After another year
had passed, Hamdan was charged with one count of conspiracy “to
commit … offenses triable by military commission.” App. to Pet. for
Cert. 65a.
Hamdan filed petitions for writs
of habeas corpus and mandamus to challenge the Executive Branch’s
intended means of prosecuting this charge. He concedes that a
court-martial constituted in accordance with the Uniform Code of
Military Justice (UCMJ), 10 U. S. C. §801
et seq.
(2000 ed. and Supp. III), would have authority to try him. His
objection is that the military commission the President has
convened lacks such authority, for two principal reasons: First,
neither congressional Act nor the common law of war supports trial
by this commission for the crime of conspiracy—an offense that,
Hamdan says, is not a violation of the law of war. Second, Hamdan
contends, the procedures that the President has adopted to try him
violate the most basic tenets of military and international law,
including the principle that a defendant must be permitted to see
and hear the evidence against him.
The District Court granted Hamdan’s request
for a writ of habeas corpus. 344 F. Supp. 2d 152 (DC 2004). The
Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit reversed. 415
F. 3d 33 (2005). Recognizing, as we did over a half-century
ago, that trial by military commission is an extraordinary measure
raising important questions about the balance of powers in our
constitutional structure,
Ex parte Quirin, 317 U. S.
1, 19 (1942), we granted certiorari. 546 U. S. ___ (2005).
For the reasons that follow, we conclude that
the military commission convened to try Hamdan lacks power to
proceed because its structure and procedures violate both the UCMJ
and the Geneva Conventions. Four of us also conclude, see Part V,
infra, that the offense with which Hamdan has been charged
is not an “offens[e] that by … the law of war may be tried by
military commissions.” 10 U. S. C. §821.
I
On September 11, 2001, agents of
the al Qaeda terrorist organization hijacked commercial airplanes
and attacked the World Trade Center in New York City and the
national headquarters of the Department of Defense in Arlington,
Virginia. Americans will never forget the devastation wrought by
these acts. Nearly 3,000 civilians were killed.
Congress responded by adopting a
Joint Resolution authorizing the President to “use all necessary
and appropriate force against those nations, organizations, or
persons he determines planned, authorized, committed, or aided the
terrorist attacks … in order to prevent any future acts of
international terrorism against the United States by such nations,
organizations or persons.” Authorization for Use of Military Force
(AUMF), 115 Stat. 224, note following 50 U. S. C. §1541 (2000
ed., Supp. III). Acting pursuant to the AUMF, and having determined
that the Taliban regime had supported al Qaeda, the President
ordered the Armed Forces of the United States to invade
Afghanistan. In the ensuing hostilities, hundreds of individuals,
Hamdan among them, were captured and eventually detained at
Guantanamo Bay.
On November 13, 2001, while the United States
was still engaged in active combat with the Taliban, the President
issued a comprehensive military order intended to govern the
“Detention, Treatment, and Trial of Certain Non-Citizens in the War
Against Terrorism,” 66 Fed. Reg. 57833 (hereinafter November 13
Order or Order). Those subject to the November 13 Order include any
noncitizen for whom the President determines “there is reason to
believe” that he or she (1) “is or was” a member of al Qaeda or (2)
has engaged or participated in terrorist activities aimed at or
harmful to the United States.
Id., at 57834. Any such
individual “shall, when tried, be tried by military commission for
any and all offenses triable by military commission that such
individual is alleged to have committed, and may be punished in
accordance with the penalties provided under applicable law,
including imprisonment or death.”
Ibid. The November 13
Order vested in the Secretary of Defense the power to appoint
military commissions to try individuals subject to the Order, but
that power has since been delegated to John D. Altenberg, Jr., a
retired Army major general and longtime military lawyer who has
been designated “Appointing Authority for Military
Commissions.”
On July 3, 2003, the President announced his
determination that Hamdan and five other detainees at Guantanamo
Bay were subject to the November 13 Order and thus triable by
military commission. In December 2003, military counsel was
appointed to represent Hamdan. Two months later, counsel filed
demands for charges and for a speedy trial pursuant to Article 10
of the UCMJ, 10 U. S. C. §810. On February 23, 2004, the legal
adviser to the Appointing Authority denied the applications, ruling
that Hamdan was not entitled to any of the protections of the UCMJ.
Not until July 13, 2004, after Hamdan had commenced this action in
the United States District Court for the Western District of
Washington, did the Government finally charge him with the offense
for which, a year earlier, he had been deemed eligible for trial by
military commission.
The charging document, which is unsigned,
contains 13 numbered paragraphs. The first two paragraphs recite
the asserted bases for the military commission’s
jurisdiction—namely, the November 13 Order and the President’s July
3, 2003, declaration that Hamdan is eligible for trial by military
commission. The next nine paragraphs, collectively entitled
“General Allegations,” describe al Qaeda’s activities from its
inception in 1989 through 2001 and identify Osama bin Laden as the
group’s leader. Hamdan is not mentioned in these paragraphs.
Only the final two paragraphs, entitled
“Charge: Conspiracy,” contain allegations against Hamdan. Paragraph
12 charges that “from on or about February 1996 to on or about
November 24, 2001,” Hamdan “willfully and knowingly joined an
enterprise of persons who shared a common criminal purpose and
conspired and agreed with [named members of al Qaeda] to commit the
following offenses triable by military commission: attacking
civilians; attacking civilian objects; murder by an unprivileged
belligerent; and terrorism.” App. to Pet. for Cert. 65a. There is
no allegation that Hamdan had any command responsibilities, played
a leadership role, or participated in the planning of any
activity.
Paragraph 13 lists four “overt acts” that
Hamdan is alleged to have committed sometime between 1996 and
November 2001 in furtherance of the “enterprise and conspiracy”:
(1) he acted as Osama bin Laden’s “bodyguard and personal driver,”
“believ[ing]” all the while that bin Laden “and his associates were
involved in” terrorist acts prior to and including the attacks of
September 11, 2001; (2) he arranged for transportation of, and
actually transported, weapons used by al Qaeda members and by bin
Laden’s bodyguards (Hamdan among them); (3) he “drove or
accompanied [O]sama bin Laden to various al Qaida-sponsored
training camps, press conferences, or lectures,” at which bin Laden
encouraged attacks against Americans; and (4) he received weapons
training at al Qaeda-sponsored camps.
Id., at 65a–67a.
After this formal charge was filed, the United
States District Court for the Western District of Washington
transferred Hamdan’s habeas and mandamus petitions to the United
States District Court for the District of Columbia. Meanwhile, a
Combatant Status Review Tribunal (CSRT) convened pursuant to a
military order issued on July 7, 2004, decided that Hamdan’s
continued detention at Guantanamo Bay was warranted because he was
an “enemy combatant.”[
Footnote
1] Separately, proceedings before the military commission
commenced.
On November 8, 2004, however, the District
Court granted Hamdan’s petition for habeas corpus and stayed the
commission’s proceedings. It concluded that the President’s
authority to establish military commissions extends only to
“offenders or offenses triable by military [commission] under the
law of war,” 344 F. Supp. 2d, at 158; that the law of war
includes the Geneva Convention (III) Relative to the Treatment of
Prisoners of War, Aug. 12, 1949, [1955] 6 U. S. T. 3316, T. I. A.
S. No. 3364 (Third Geneva Convention); that Hamdan is entitled to
the full protections of the Third Geneva Convention until adjudged,
in compliance with that treaty, not to be a prisoner of war; and
that, whether or not Hamdan is properly classified as a prisoner of
war, the military commission convened to try him was established in
violation of both the UCMJ and Common Article 3 of the Third Geneva
Convention because it had the power to convict based on evidence
the accused would never see or hear. 344 F. Supp. 2d, at
158–172.
The Court of Appeals for the District
of Columbia Circuit reversed. Like the District Court, the
Court of Appeals declined the Government’s invitation to abstain
from considering Hamdan’s challenge. Cf.
Schlesinger v.
Councilman, 420
U. S. 738 (1975). On the merits, the panel rejected the
District Court’s further conclusion that Hamdan was entitled to
relief under the Third Geneva Convention. All three judges agreed
that the Geneva Conventions were not “judicially enforceable,” 415
F. 3d, at 38, and two thought that the Conventions did not in
any event apply to Hamdan,
id., at 40–42; but see
id., at 44 (Williams, J., concurring). In other portions
of its opinion, the court concluded that our decision in
Quirin foreclosed any separation-of-powers objection to
the military commission’s jurisdiction, and held that Hamdan’s
trial before the contemplated commission would violate neither the
UCMJ nor U. S. Armed Forces regulations intended to implement the
Geneva Conventions. 415 F. 3d, at 38, 42–43.
On November 7, 2005, we granted certiorari to
decide whether the military commission convened to try Hamdan has
authority to do so, and whether Hamdan may rely on the Geneva
Conventions in these proceedings.
II
On February 13, 2006, the
Government filed a motion to dismiss the writ of certiorari. The
ground cited for dismissal was the recently enacted Detainee
Treatment Act of 2005 (DTA), Pub. L. 109–148, 119 Stat. 2739. We
postponed our ruling on that motion pending argument on the merits,
546 U. S. ___ (2006), and now deny it.
The DTA, which was signed into
law on December 30, 2005, addresses a broad swath of subjects
related to detainees. It places restrictions on the treatment and
interrogation of detainees in U. S. custody, and it furnishes
procedural protections for U. S. personnel accused of engaging in
improper interrogation. DTA §§1002–1004, 119 Stat. 2739–2740. It
also sets forth certain “procedures for status review of detainees
outside the United States.” §1005,
id., at 2740.
Subsections (a) through (d) of §1005 direct the Secretary of
Defense to report to Congress the procedures being used by CSRTs to
determine the proper classification of detainees held in Guantanamo
Bay, Iraq, and Afghanistan, and to adopt certain safeguards as part
of those procedures.
Subsection (e) of §1005, which is entitled
“Judicial Review of Detention of Enemy Combatants,” supplies the
basis for the Government’s jurisdictional argument. The subsection
contains three numbered paragraphs. The first paragraph amends the
judicial code as follows:
“(1) In general.—Section 2241 of
title 28, United States Code, is amended by adding at the end the
following:
. . . . .
“ ‘(e) Except as provided in
section 1005 of the Detainee Treatment Act of 2005, no court,
justice, or judge shall have jurisdiction to hear or consider—
“ ‘(1) an application for a writ of
habeas corpus filed by or on behalf of an alien detained by the
Department of Defense at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba; or
“ ‘(2) any other action against the
United States or its agents relating to any aspect of the detention
by the Department of Defense of an alien at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba,
who—
“ ‘(A) is currently in military custody;
or
“ ‘(B) has been determined by the United
States Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit in
accordance with the procedures set forth in section 1005(e) of the
Detainee Treatment Act of 2005 to have been properly detained as an
enemy combatant.’ ” §1005(e),
id., at 2741–2742.
Paragraph (2) of subsection (e)
vests in the Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia Circuit
the “exclusive jurisdiction to determine the validity of any final
decision of a [CSRT] that an alien is properly designated as an
enemy combatant.” Paragraph (2) also delimits the scope of that
review. See §§1005(e)(2)(C)(i)–(ii),
id., at 2742.
Paragraph (3) mirrors paragraph (2) in
structure, but governs judicial review of final decisions of
military commissions, not CSRTs. It vests in the Court of Appeals
for the District of Columbia Circuit “exclusive jurisdiction to
determine the validity of any final decision rendered pursuant to
Military Commission Order No. 1, dated August 31, 2005 (or any
successor military order).” §1005(e)(3)(A),
id., at
2743.[
Footnote 2] Review is as
of right for any alien sentenced to death or a term of imprisonment
of 10 years or more, but is at the Court of Appeals’ discretion in
all other cases. The scope of review is limited to the following
inquiries:
“(i) whether the final decision
[of the military commission] was consistent with the standards and
procedures specified in the military order referred to in
subparagraph (A); and
“(ii) to the extent the Constitution and laws
of the United States are applicable, whether the use of such
standards and procedures to reach the final decision is consistent
with the Constitution and laws of the United States.”
§1005(e)(3)(D),
ibid.
Finally, §1005 contains an
“effective date” provision, which reads as follows:
“(1) In general.—This section
shall take effect on the date of the enactment of this Act.
“(2) Review of Combatant Status Tribunal and
Military Commission Decisions.—Paragraphs (2) and (3) of subsection
(e) shall apply with respect to any claim whose review is governed
by one of such paragraphs and that is pending on or after the date
of the enactment of this Act.” §1005(h),
id., at
2743–2744.[
Footnote 3]
The Act is silent about whether paragraph (1) of
subsection (e) “shall apply” to claims pending on the date of
enactment.
The Government argues that §§1005(e)(1) and
1005(h) had the immediate effect, upon enactment, of repealing
federal jurisdiction not just over detainee habeas actions yet to
be filed but also over any such actions then pending in any federal
court—including this Court. Accordingly, it argues, we lack
jurisdiction to review the Court of Appeals’ decision below.
Hamdan objects to this theory on both
constitutional and statutory grounds. Principal among his
constitutional arguments is that the Government’s preferred reading
raises grave questions about Congress’ authority to impinge upon
this Court’s appellate jurisdiction, particularly in habeas cases.
Support for this argument is drawn from
Ex parte Yerger, 8
Wall. 85 (1869), in which, having explained that “the denial to
this court of appellate jurisdiction” to consider an original writ
of habeas corpus would “greatly weaken the efficacy of the writ,”
id., at 102–103, we held that Congress would not be
presumed to have effected such denial absent an unmistakably clear
statement to the contrary. See
id., at 104–105; see also
Felker v.
Turpin, 518 U. S. 651 (1996);
Durousseau v.
United States, 6 Cranch 307, 314
(1810) (opinion for the Court by Marshall, C. J.) (The
“appellate powers of this court” are not created by statute but are
“given by the constitution”);
United States v.
Klein, 13 Wall. 128 (1872). Cf.
Ex parte
McCardle, 7 Wall. 506, 514 (1869) (holding that Congress had
validly foreclosed one avenue of appellate review where its repeal
of habeas jurisdiction, reproduced in the margin,[
Footnote 4] could not have been “a plainer
instance of positive exception”). Hamdan also suggests that, if the
Government’s reading is correct, Congress has unconstitutionally
suspended the writ of habeas corpus.
We find it unnecessary to reach either of
these arguments. Ordinary principles of statutory construction
suffice to rebut the Government’s theory—at least insofar as this
case, which was pending at the time the DTA was enacted, is
concerned.
The Government acknowledges that only
paragraphs (2) and (3) of subsection (e) are expressly made
applicable to pending cases, see §1005(h)(2), 119 Stat. 2743–2744,
but argues that the omission of paragraph (1) from the scope of
that express statement is of no moment. This is so, we are told,
because Congress’ failure to expressly reserve federal courts’
jurisdiction over pending cases erects a presumption against
jurisdiction, and that presumption is rebutted by neither the text
nor the legislative history of the DTA.
The first part of this argument is not
entirely without support in our precedents. We have in the past
“applied intervening statutes conferring or ousting jurisdiction,
whether or not jurisdiction lay when the underlying conduct
occurred or when the suit was filed.”
Landgraf v.
USI
Film Products, 511 U. S. 244, 274 (1994) (citing
Bruner v.
United States, 343 U. S. 112 (1952);
Hallowell v.
Commons, 239 U. S. 506 (1916)); see
Republic of Austria v.
Altmann, 541 U. S. 677, 693 (2004). But the
“presumption” that these cases have applied is more accurately
viewed as the nonapplication of another presumption—viz., the
presumption against retroactivity—in certain limited
circumstances.[
Footnote 5] If a
statutory provision “would operate retroactively” as applied to
cases pending at the time the provision was enacted, then “our
traditional presumption teaches that it does not govern absent
clear congressional intent favoring such a result.”
Landgraf, 511 U. S., at 280. We have explained, however,
that, unlike other intervening changes in the law, a
jurisdiction-conferring or jurisdiction&nbhyph;stripping
statute usually “takes away no substantive right but simply changes
the tribunal that is to hear the case.”
Hallowell, 239 U.
S., at 508. If that is truly all the statute does, no retroactivity
problem arises because the change in the law does not “impair
rights a party possessed when he acted, increase a party’s
liability for past conduct, or impose new duties with respect to
transactions already completed.”
Landgraf, 511 U. S., at
280.[
Footnote 6] And if a new
rule has no retroactive effect, the presumption against
retroactivity will not prevent its application to a case that was
already pending when the new rule was enacted.
That does not mean, however, that all
jurisdiction-stripping provisions—or even all such provisions that
truly lack retroactive effect—must apply to cases pending at the
time of their enactment.[
Footnote
7] “[N]ormal rules of construction,” including a contextual
reading of the statutory language, may dictate otherwise.
Lindh v.
Murphy, 521 U. S. 320, 326 (1997).[
Footnote 8] A familiar principle of
statutory construction, relevant both in
Lindh and here,
is that a negative inference may be drawn from the exclusion of
language from one statutory provision that is included in other
provisions of the same statute. See
id., at 330; see also,
e.g.,
Russello v.
United States,
464 U. S. 16, 23
(1983) (“ ‘[W]here Congress includes particular language in
one section of a statute but omits it in another section of the
same Act, it is generally presumed that Congress acts intentionally
and purposely in the disparate inclusion or exclusion’ ”). The
Court in
Lindh relied on this reasoning to conclude that
certain limitations on the availability of habeas relief imposed by
AEDPA applied only to cases filed after that statute’s effective
date. Congress’ failure to identify the temporal reach of those
limitations, which governed noncapital cases, stood in contrast to
its express command in the same legislation that new rules
governing habeas petitions in capital cases “apply to cases pending
on or after the date of enactment.” §107(c), 110 Stat. 1226; see
Lindh, 521 U. S., at 329–330. That contrast, combined with
the fact that the amendments at issue “affect[ed] substantive
entitlement to relief,”
id., at 327, warranted drawing a
negative inference.
A like inference follows
a fortiori
from
Lindh in this case. “If … Congress was reasonably
concerned to ensure that [§§1005(e)(2) and (3)] be applied to
pending cases, it should have been just as concerned about
[§1005(e)(1)], unless it had the different intent that the latter
[section] not be applied to the general run of pending cases.”
Id., at 329. If anything, the evidence of deliberate
omission is stronger here than it was in
Lindh. In
Lindh, the provisions to be contrasted had been drafted
separately but were later “joined together and … considered
simultaneously when the language raising the implication was
inserted.”
Id., at 330. We observed that Congress’ tandem
review and approval of the two sets of provisions strengthened the
presumption that the relevant omission was deliberate.
Id., at 331; see also
Field v.
Mans,
516 U. S. 59, 75
(1995) (“The more apparently deliberate the contrast, the stronger
the inference, as applied, for example, to contrasting statutory
sections originally enacted simultaneously in relevant respects”).
Here, Congress not only considered the respective temporal reaches
of paragraphs (1), (2), and (3) of subsection (e) together at every
stage, but omitted paragraph (1) from its directive that paragraphs
(2) and (3) apply to pending cases only after having
rejected earlier proposed versions of the statute that
would have included what is now paragraph (1) within the scope of
that directive. Compare DTA §1005(h)(2), 119 Stat. 2743–2744, with
151 Cong. Rec. S12655 (Nov. 10, 2005) (S. Amdt. 2515); see
id., at S14257–S14258 (Dec. 21, 2005) (discussing similar
language proposed in both the House and the Senate).[
Footnote 9] Congress’ rejection of the very
language that would have achieved the result the Government urges
here weighs heavily against the Government’s interpretation. See
Doe v.
Chao, 540 U. S. 614, 621–623
(2004).[
Footnote 10]
The Government nonetheless offers two reasons
why, in its view, no negative inference may be drawn in favor of
jurisdiction. First, it asserts that
Lindh is inapposite
because “Section 1005(e)(1) and (h)(1) remove jurisdiction, while
Section 1005(e)(2), (3) and (h)(2) create an exclusive review
mechanism and define the nature of that review.” Reply Brief in
Support of Respondents’ Motion to Dismiss 4. Because the provisions
being contrasted “address wholly distinct subject matters,”
Martin v.
Hadix, 527 U. S. 343, 356
(1999), the Government argues, Congress’ different treatment of
them is of no significance.
This argument must fail because it rests on a
false distinction between the “jurisdictional” nature of subsection
(e)(1) and the “procedural” character of subsections (e)(2) and
(e)(3). In truth, all three provisions govern jurisdiction over
detainees’ claims; subsection (e)(1) addresses jurisdiction in
habeas cases and other actions “relating to any aspect of the
detention,” while subsections (e)(2) and (3) vest
exclusive,[
Footnote 11] but
limited,
jurisdiction in the Court of Appeals for the
District of Columbia Circuit to review “final decision[s]” of
CSRTs and military commissions.
That subsection (e)(1) strips jurisdiction
while subsections (e)(2) and (e)(3) restore it in limited form is
hardly a distinction upon which a negative inference must founder.
Justice Scalia, in arguing to the contrary, maintains that Congress
had “ample reason” to provide explicitly for application of
subsections (e)(2) and (e)(3) to pending cases because
“jurisdiction-stripping” provisions like subsection (e)(1) have
been treated differently under our retroactivity jurisprudence than
“jurisdiction-conferring” ones like subsections (e)(2) and (e)(3).
Post, at 8 (dissenting opinion); see also Reply Brief in
Support of Respondents’ Motion to Dismiss 5–6. That theory is
insupportable. Assuming
arguendo that subsections (e)(2)
and (e)(3) “confer
new jurisdiction (in the D. C.
Circuit) where there was none before,”
post, at 8
(emphasis in original); but see
Rasul v.
Bush,
542 U. S. 466 (2004), and that our
precedents can be read to “strongly indicat[e]” that
jurisdiction-creating statutes raise special retroactivity concerns
not also raised by jurisdiction-stripping statutes,
post,
at 8,[
Footnote 12]
subsections (e)(2) and (e)(3) “confer” jurisdiction in a manner
that cannot conceivably give rise to retroactivity questions under
our precedents. The provisions impose no additional liability or
obligation on any private party or even on the United States,
unless one counts the burden of litigating an appeal—a burden not a
single one of our cases suggests triggers retroactivity
concerns.[
Footnote 13]
Moreover, it strains credulity to suggest that the desire to
reinforce the application of subsections (e)(2) and (e)(3) to
pending cases drove Congress to
exclude subsection (e)(1)
from §1005(h)(2).
The Government’s second objection is that
applying subsections (e)(2) and (e)(3) but not (e)(1) to pending
cases “produces an absurd result” because it grants (albeit only
temporarily) dual jurisdiction over detainees’ cases in
circumstances where the statute plainly envisions that the District
of Columbia Circuit will have “
exclusive” and immediate
jurisdiction over such cases. Reply Brief in Support of
Respondents’ Motion to Dismiss 7. But the premise here is faulty;
subsections (e)(2) and (e)(3) grant jurisdiction only over actions
to “determine the validity of any final decision” of a CSRT or
commission. Because Hamdan, at least, is not contesting any “final
decision” of a CSRT or military commission, his action does not
fall within the scope of subsection (e)(2) or (e)(3). There is,
then, no absurdity.[
Footnote
14]
The Government’s more general suggestion that
Congress can have had no good reason for preserving habeas
jurisdiction over cases that had been brought by detainees prior to
enactment of the DTA not only is belied by the legislative history,
see n. 10,
supra, but is otherwise without merit. There is
nothing absurd about a scheme under which pending habeas
actions—particularly those, like this one, that challenge the very
legitimacy of the tribunals whose judgments Congress would like to
have reviewed—are preserved, and more routine challenges to final
decisions rendered by those tribunals are carefully channeled to a
particular court and through a particular lens of review.
Finally, we cannot leave unaddressed Justice
Scalia’s contentions that the “meaning of §1005(e)(1) is entirely
clear,”
post, at 6, and that “the
plain import of
a statute repealing jurisdiction is to eliminate the power to
consider and render judgment—in an already pending case no less
than in a case yet to be filed,”
post, at 3 (emphasis in
original). Only by treating the
Bruner rule as an
inflexible trump (a thing it has never been, see n. 7,
supra) and ignoring both the rest of §1005’s text and its
drafting history can one conclude as much. Congress here expressly
provided that subsections (e)(2) and (e)(3) applied to pending
cases. It chose not to so provide—after having been presented with
the option—for subsection (e)(1). The omission is an integral part
of the statutory scheme that muddies whatever “plain meaning” may
be discerned from blinkered study of subsection (e)(1) alone. The
dissent’s speculation about what Congress might have intended by
the omission not only is counterfactual, cf. n. 10,
supra
(recounting legislative history), but rests on both a
misconstruction of the DTA and an erroneous view our precedents,
see
supra, at 17, and n. 12.
For these reasons, we deny the Government’s
motion to dismiss.[
Footnote
15]
III
Relying on our decision in
Councilman, 420
U. S. 738, the Government argues that, even if we have
statutory jurisdiction, we should apply the “judge-made rule that
civilian courts should await the final outcome of on-going military
proceedings before entertaining an attack on those proceedings.”
Brief for Respondents 12. Like the District Court and the Court of
Appeals before us, we reject this argument.
In
Councilman, an army
officer on active duty was referred to a court-martial for trial on
charges that he violated the UCMJ by selling, transferring, and
possessing marijuana. 420 U. S., at 739–740. Objecting that the
alleged offenses were not “ ‘service connected,’ ”
id., at 740, the officer filed suit in Federal District
Court to enjoin the proceedings. He neither questioned the
lawfulness of courts-martial or their procedures nor disputed that,
as a serviceman, he was subject to court-martial jurisdiction. His
sole argument was that the subject matter of his case did not fall
within the scope of court-martial authority. See
id., at
741, 759. The District Court granted his request for injunctive
relief, and the Court of Appeals affirmed.
We granted certiorari and reversed.
Id., at 761. We did not reach the merits of whether the
marijuana charges were sufficiently “service connected” to place
them within the subject-matter jurisdiction of a court-martial.
Instead, we concluded that, as a matter of comity, federal courts
should normally abstain from intervening in pending court-martial
proceedings against members of the Armed Forces,[
Footnote 16] and further that there was
nothing in the particular circumstances of the officer’s case to
displace that general rule. See
id., at 740, 758.
Councilman identifies two
considerations of comity that together favor abstention pending
completion of ongoing court-martial proceedings against service
personnel. See
New v.
Cohen, 129 F. 3d 639,
643 (CADC 1997); see also 415 F. 3d, at 36–37 (discussing
Councilman and
New). First, military discipline
and, therefore, the efficient operation of the Armed Forces are
best served if the military justice system acts without regular
interference from civilian courts. See
Councilman, 420 U.
S., at 752. Second, federal courts should respect the balance that
Congress struck between military preparedness and fairness to
individual service members when it created “an integrated system of
military courts and review procedures, a critical element of which
is the Court of Military Appeals, consisting of civilian judges
‘completely removed from all military influence or
persuasion … .’ ”
Id., at 758 (quoting
H. R. Rep. No. 491, 81st Cong., 1st Sess., p. 7 (1949)). Just
as abstention in the face of ongoing state criminal proceedings is
justified by our expectation that state courts will enforce federal
rights, so abstention in the face of ongoing court-martial
proceedings is justified by our expectation that the military court
system established by Congress—with its substantial procedural
protections and provision for appellate review by independent
civilian judges—“will vindicate servicemen’s constitutional
rights,” 420 U. S., at 758. See
id., at 755–758.[
Footnote 17]
The same cannot be said here; indeed, neither
of the comity considerations identified in
Councilman
weighs in favor of abstention in this case. First, Hamdan is not a
member of our Nation’s Armed Forces, so concerns about military
discipline do not apply. Second, the tribunal convened to try
Hamdan is not part of the integrated system of military courts,
complete with independent review panels, that Congress has
established. Unlike the officer in
Councilman, Hamdan has
no right to appeal any conviction to the civilian judges of the
Court of Military Appeals (now called the United States Court of
Appeals for the Armed Forces, see Pub. L. 103–337, 108 Stat. 2831).
Instead, under Dept. of Defense Military Commission Order No. 1
(Commission Order No. 1), which was issued by the President on
March 21, 2002, and amended most recently on August 31, 2005, and
which governs the procedures for Hamdan’s commission, any
conviction would be reviewed by a panel consisting of three
military officers designated by the Secretary of Defense.
Commission Order No. 1 §6(H)(4). Commission Order No. 1 provides
that appeal of a review panel’s decision may be had only to the
Secretary of Defense himself, §6(H)(5), and then, finally, to the
President, §6(H)(6).[
Footnote
18]
We have no doubt that the various individuals
assigned review power under Commission Order No. 1 would strive to
act impartially and ensure that Hamdan receive all protections to
which he is entitled. Nonetheless, these review bodies clearly lack
the structural insulation from military influence that
characterizes the Court of Appeals for the Armed Forces, and thus
bear insufficient conceptual similarity to state courts to warrant
invocation of abstention principles.[
Footnote 19]
In sum, neither of the two comity
considerations underlying our decision to abstain in
Councilman applies to the circumstances of this case.
Instead, this Court’s decision in
Quirin is the most
relevant precedent. In
Quirin, seven German saboteurs were
captured upon arrival by submarine in New York and Florida. 317 U.
S., at 21. The President convened a military commission to try the
saboteurs, who then filed habeas corpus petitions in the United
States District Court for the District of Columbia challenging
their trial by commission. We granted the saboteurs’ petition for
certiorari to the Court of Appeals before judgment. See
id., at 19. Far from abstaining pending the conclusion of
military proceedings, which were ongoing, we convened a special
Term to hear the case and expedited our review. That course of
action was warranted, we explained, “[i]n view of the public
importance of the questions raised by [the cases] and of the duty
which rests on the courts, in time of war as well as in time of
peace, to preserve unimpaired the constitutional safeguards of
civil liberty, and because in our opinion the public interest
required that we consider and decide those questions without any
avoidable delay.”
Ibid.
As the Court of Appeals here recognized,
Quirin “provides a compelling historical precedent for the
power of civilian courts to entertain challenges that seek to
interrupt the processes of military commissions.” 415 F. 3d,
at 36.[
Footnote 20] The
circumstances of this case, like those in
Quirin, simply
do not implicate the “obligations of comity” that, under
appropriate circumstances, justify abstention.
Quackenbush
v.
Allstate Ins. Co., 517 U. S. 706, 733
(1996) (Kennedy, J., concurring).
Finally, the Government has identified no
other “important countervailing interest” that would permit federal
courts to depart from their general “duty to exercise the
jurisdiction that is conferred upon them by Congress.”
Id., at 716 (majority opinion). To the contrary, Hamdan
and the Government both have a compelling interest in knowing in
advance whether Hamdan may be tried by a military commission that
arguably is without any basis in law and operates free from many of
the procedural rules prescribed by Congress for
courts-martial—rules intended to safeguard the accused and ensure
the reliability of any conviction. While we certainly do not
foreclose the possibility that abstention may be appropriate in
some cases seeking review of ongoing military commission
proceedings (such as military commissions convened on the
battlefield), the foregoing discussion makes clear that, under our
precedent, abstention is not justified here. We therefore proceed
to consider the merits of Hamdan’s challenge.
IV
The military commission, a
tribunal neither mentioned in the Constitution nor created by
statute, was born of military necessity. See W. Winthrop, Military
Law and Precedents 831 (rev. 2d ed. 1920) (hereinafter Winthrop).
Though foreshadowed in some respects by earlier tribunals like the
Board of General Officers that General Washington convened to try
British Major John André for spying during the Revolutionary War,
the commission “as such” was inaugurated in 1847.
Id., at
832; G. Davis, A Treatise on the Military Law of the United States
308 (2d ed. 1909) (hereinafter Davis). As commander of occupied
Mexican territory, and having available to him no other tribunal,
General Winfield Scott that year ordered the establishment of both
“ ‘
military commissions’ ” to try ordinary
crimes committed in the occupied territory and a “
council of
war” to try offenses against the law of war. Winthrop 832
(emphases in original).
When the exigencies of war next
gave rise to a need for use of military commissions, during the
Civil War, the dual system favored by General Scott was not
adopted. Instead, a single tribunal often took jurisdiction over
ordinary crimes, war crimes, and breaches of military orders alike.
As further discussed below, each aspect of that seemingly broad
jurisdiction was in fact supported by a separate military exigency.
Generally, though, the need for military commissions during this
period—as during the Mexican War—was driven largely by the then
very limited jurisdiction of courts-martial: “The
occasion
for the military commission arises principally from the fact that
the jurisdiction of the court-martial proper, in our law, is
restricted by statute almost exclusively to members of the military
force and to certain specific offences defined in a written code.”
Id., at 831 (emphasis in original).
Exigency alone, of course, will not justify
the establishment and use of penal tribunals not contemplated by
Article I, §8 and Article III, §1 of the Constitution unless
some other part of that document authorizes a response to the felt
need. See
Ex parte Milligan, 4 Wall. 2, 121 (1866)
(“Certainly no part of the judicial power of the country was
conferred on [military commissions]”);
Ex parte
Vallandigham, 1 Wall. 243, 251 (1864); see also
Quirin, 317 U. S., at 25 (“Congress and the President,
like the courts, possess no power not derived from the
Constitution”). And that authority, if it exists, can derive only
from the powers granted jointly to the President and Congress in
time of war. See
id., at 26–29;
In re
Yamashita,
327 U. S.
1, 11 (1946).
The Constitution makes the President the
“Commander in Chief” of the Armed Forces, Art. II, §2,
cl. 1, but vests in Congress the powers to “declare War … and
make Rules concerning Captures on Land and Water,” Art. I, §8,
cl. 11, to “raise and support Armies,”
id., cl. 12, to
“define and punish … Offences against the Law of Nations,”
id., cl. 10, and “To make Rules for the Government and
Regulation of the land and naval Forces,”
id., cl. 14. The
interplay between these powers was described by Chief Justice Chase
in the seminal case of
Ex parte Milligan:
“The power to make the necessary laws is in
Congress; the power to execute in the President. Both powers imply
many subordinate and auxiliary powers. Each includes all
authorities essential to its due exercise. But neither can the
President, in war more than in peace, intrude upon the proper
authority of Congress, nor Congress upon the proper authority of
the President… . Congress cannot direct the conduct of
campaigns, nor can the President, or any commander under him,
without the sanction of Congress, institute tribunals for the trial
and punishment of offences, either of soldiers or civilians, unless
in cases of a controlling necessity, which justifies what it
compels, or at least insures acts of indemnity from the justice of
the legislature.” 4 Wall., at 139–140.[Footnote 21]
Whether Chief Justice Chase
was correct in suggesting that the President may constitutionally
convene military commissions “without the sanction of Congress” in
cases of “controlling necessity” is a question this Court has not
answered definitively, and need not answer today. For we held in
Quirin that Congress had, through Article of War 15,
sanctioned the use of military commissions in such circumstances.
317 U. S., at 28 (“By the Articles of War, and especially Article
15, Congress has explicitly provided, so far as it may
constitutionally do so, that military tribunals shall have
jurisdiction to try offenders or offenses against the law of war in
appropriate cases”). Article 21 of the UCMJ, the language of which
is substantially identical to the old Article 15 and was preserved
by Congress after World War II,[
Footnote 22] reads as follows:
“Jurisdiction of courts-martial not exclusive.
“The provisions of this code conferring jurisdiction upon
courts-martial shall not be construed as depriving military
commissions, provost courts, or other military tribunals of
concurrent jurisdiction in respect of offenders or offenses that by
statute or by the law of war may be tried by such military
commissions, provost courts, or other military tribunals.” 64 Stat.
115.
We have no occasion to revisit
Quirin’s controversial characterization of Article of War
15 as congressional authorization for military commissions. Cf.
Brief for Legal Scholars and Historians as
Amici Curiae
12–15. Contrary to the Government’s assertion, however, even
Quirin did not view the authorization as a sweeping
mandate for the President to “invoke military commissions when he
deems them necessary.” Brief for Respondents 17. Rather, the
Quirin Court recognized that Congress had simply preserved
what power, under the Constitution and the common law of war, the
President had had before 1916 to convene military commissions—with
the express condition that the President and those under his
command comply with the law of war. See 317 U. S., at
28–29.[
Footnote 23] That
much is evidenced by the Court’s inquiry,
following its
conclusion that Congress had authorized military commissions, into
whether the law of war had indeed been complied with in that case.
See
ibid.
The Government would have us dispense with the
inquiry that the
Quirin Court undertook and find in either
the AUMF or the DTA specific, overriding authorization for the very
commission that has been convened to try Hamdan. Neither of these
congressional Acts, however, expands the President’s authority to
convene military commissions. First, while we assume that the AUMF
activated the President’s war powers, see
Hamdi v.
Rumsfeld,
542 U. S. 507 (2004)
(plurality opinion), and that those powers include the authority to
convene military commissions in appropriate circumstances, see
id., at 518;
Quirin, 317 U. S., at 28–29; see
also
Yamashita, 327 U. S., at 11, there is nothing in the
text or legislative history of the AUMF even hinting that Congress
intended to expand or alter the authorization set forth in Article
21 of the UCMJ. Cf.
Yerger, 8 Wall., at 105 (“Repeals by
implication are not favored”).[
Footnote 24]
Likewise, the DTA cannot be read to authorize
this commission. Although the DTA, unlike either Article 21 or the
AUMF, was enacted after the President had convened Hamdan’s
commission, it contains no language authorizing that tribunal or
any other at Guantanamo Bay. The DTA obviously “recognize[s]” the
existence of the Guantanamo Bay commissions in the weakest sense,
Brief for Respondents 15, because it references some of the
military orders governing them and creates limited judicial review
of their “final decision[s],” DTA §1005(e)(3), 119 Stat. 2743. But
the statute also pointedly reserves judgment on whether “the
Constitution and laws of the United States are applicable” in
reviewing such decisions and whether, if they are, the “standards
and procedures” used to try Hamdan and other detainees actually
violate the “Constitution and laws.”
Ibid.
Together, the UCMJ, the AUMF, and the DTA at
most acknowledge a general Presidential authority to convene
military commissions in circumstances where justified under the
“Constitution and laws,” including the law of war. Absent a more
specific congressional authorization, the task of this Court is, as
it was in
Quirin, to decide whether Hamdan’s military
commission is so justified. It is to that inquiry we now turn.
V
The common law governing military
commissions may be gleaned from past practice and what sparse legal
precedent exists. Commissions historically have been used in three
situations. See Bradley & Goldsmith, Congressional
Authorization and the War on Terrorism, 118 Harv. L. Rev.
2048, 2132–2133 (2005); Winthrop 831–846; Hearings on H. R.
2498 before the Subcommittee of the House Committee on Armed
Services, 81st Cong., 1st Sess., 975 (1949). First, they have
substituted for civilian courts at times and in places where
martial law has been declared. Their use in these circumstances has
raised constitutional questions, see
Duncan v.
Kahanamoku, 327 U. S. 304 (1946);
Milligan, 4 Wall., at 121–122, but is well
recognized.[
Footnote 25] See
Winthrop 822, 836–839. Second, commissions have been established to
try civilians “as part of a temporary military government over
occupied enemy territory or territory regained from an enemy where
civilian government cannot and does not function.”
Duncan,
327 U. S., at 314; see
Milligan, 4 Wall., at 141–142
(Chase, C. J., concurring in judgment) (distinguishing
“martial law proper” from “military government” in occupied
territory). Illustrative of this second kind of commission is the
one that was established, with jurisdiction to apply the German
Criminal Code, in occupied Germany following the end of World War
II. See
Madsen v.
Kinsella, 343 U. S. 341, 356
(1952).[
Footnote 26]
The third type of commission,
convened as an “incident to the conduct of war” when there is a
need “to seize and subject to disciplinary measures those enemies
who in their attempt to thwart or impede our military effort have
violated the law of war,”
Quirin, 317 U. S., at 28–29, has
been described as “utterly different” from the other two. Bickers,
Military Commissions are Constitutionally Sound: A Response to
Professors Katyal and Tribe, 34 Tex. Tech. L. Rev. 899, 902
(2002–2003).[
Footnote 27]
Not only is its jurisdiction limited to offenses cognizable during
time of war, but its role is primarily a factfinding one—to
determine, typically on the battlefield itself, whether the
defendant has violated the law of war. The last time the U. S.
Armed Forces
used the law-of-war military commission was during
World War II. In
Quirin, this Court sanctioned President
Roosevelt’s use of such a tribunal to try Nazi saboteurs captured
on American soil during the War.
317 U. S.
1. And in
Yamashita, we held that a military
commission had jurisdiction to try a Japanese commander for failing
to prevent troops under his command from committing atrocities in
the Philippines.
327 U. S.
1.
Quirin is the model the Government
invokes most frequently to defend the commission convened to try
Hamdan. That is both appropriate and unsurprising. Since Guantanamo
Bay is neither enemy-occupied territory nor under martial law, the
law-of-war commission is the only model available. At the same
time, no more robust model of executive power exists;
Quirin represents the high-water mark of military power to
try enemy combatants for war crimes.
The classic treatise penned by Colonel William
Winthrop, whom we have called “the ‘Blackstone of Military
Law,’ ”
Reid v.
Covert, 354 U. S. 1, 19,
n. 38 (1957) (plurality opinion), describes at least four
preconditions for exercise of jurisdiction by a tribunal of the
type convened to try Hamdan. First, “[a] military commission,
(except where otherwise authorized by statute), can legally assume
jurisdiction only of offenses committed within the field of the
command of the convening commander.” Winthrop 836. The “field of
command” in these circumstances means the “theatre of war.”
Ibid. Second, the offense charged “must have been
committed within the period of the war.”[
Footnote 28]
Id., at 837. No jurisdiction
exists to try offenses “committed either before or after the war.”
Ibid. Third, a military commission not established
pursuant to martial law or an occupation may try only
“[i]ndividuals of the enemy’s army who have been guilty of
illegitimate warfare or other offences in violation of the laws of
war” and members of one’s own army “who, in time of war, become
chargeable with crimes or offences not cognizable, or triable, by
the criminal courts or under the Articles of war.”
Id., at
838. Finally, a law-of-war commission has jurisdiction to try only
two kinds of offense: “Violations of the laws and usages of war
cognizable by military tribunals only,” and “[b]reaches of military
orders or regulations for which offenders are not legally triable
by court-martial under the Articles of war.”
Id., at
839.[
Footnote 29]
All parties agree that Colonel Winthrop’s
treatise accurately describes the common law governing military
commissions, and that the jurisdictional limitations he identifies
were incorporated in Article of War 15 and, later, Article 21 of
the UCMJ. It also is undisputed that Hamdan’s commission lacks
jurisdiction to try him unless the charge “properly set[s] forth,
not only the details of the act charged, but the circumstances
conferring
jurisdiction.”
Id., at 842 (emphasis
in original). The question is whether the preconditions designed to
ensure that a military necessity exists to justify the use of this
extraordinary tribunal have been satisfied here.
The charge against Hamdan, described in detail
in Part I,
supra, alleges a conspiracy extending over a
number of years, from 1996 to November 2001.[
Footnote 30] All but two months of that more
than 5-year-long period preceded the attacks of September 11, 2001,
and the enactment of the AUMF—the Act of Congress on which the
Government relies for exercise of its war powers and thus for its
authority to convene military commissions.[
Footnote 31] Neither the purported agreement
with Osama bin Laden and others to commit war crimes, nor a single
overt act, is alleged to have occurred in a theater of war or on
any specified date after September 11, 2001. None of the overt acts
that Hamdan is alleged to have committed violates the law of
war.
These facts alone cast doubt on the legality
of the charge and, hence, the commission; as Winthrop makes plain,
the offense alleged must have been committed both in a theater of
war and
during, not before, the relevant conflict. But the
deficiencies in the time and place allegations also
underscore—indeed are symptomatic of—the most serious defect of
this charge: The offense it alleges is not triable by law-of-war
military commission. See
Yamashita, 327 U. S., at 13
(“Neither congressional action nor the military orders constituting
the commission authorized it to place petitioner on trial unless
the charge proffered against him is of a violation of the law of
war”).[
Footnote 32]
There is no suggestion that Congress has, in
exercise of its constitutional authority to “define and punish . .
. Offences against the Law of Nations,” U. S. Const., Art. I,
§8, cl. 10, positively identified “conspiracy” as a war
crime.[
Footnote 33] As we
explained in
Quirin, that is not necessarily fatal to the
Government’s claim of authority to try the alleged offense by
military commission; Congress, through Article 21 of the UCMJ, has
“incorporated by reference” the common law of war, which may render
triable by military commission certain offenses not defined by
statute. 317 U. S., at 30. When, however, neither the elements of
the offense nor the range of permissible punishments is defined by
statute or treaty, the precedent must be plain and unambiguous. To
demand any less would be to risk concentrating in military hands a
degree of adjudicative and punitive power in excess of that
contemplated either by statute or by the Constitution. Cf.
Loving v.
United States, 517 U. S. 748, 771
(1996) (acknowledging that Congress “may not delegate the power to
make laws”);
Reid, 354 U. S., at 23–24 (“The Founders
envisioned the army as a necessary institution, but one dangerous
to liberty if not confined within its essential bounds”); The
Federalist No. 47, p. 324 (J. Cooke ed. 1961) (J. Madison) (“The
accumulation of all powers legislative, executive and judiciary in
the same hands … may justly be pronounced the very definition of
tyranny”).[
Footnote 34]
This high standard was met in
Quirin;
the violation there alleged was, by “universal agreement and
practice” both in this country and internationally, recognized as
an offense against the law of war. 317 U. S., at 30; see
id., at 35–36 (“This precept of the law of war has been so
recognized in practice both here and abroad, and has so generally
been accepted as valid by authorities on international law that we
think it must be regarded as a rule or principle of the law of war
recognized by this Government by its enactment of the Fifteenth
Article of War” (footnote omitted)). Although the picture arguably
was less clear in
Yamashita, compare 327 U. S., at 16
(stating that the provisions of the Fourth Hague Convention of
1907, 36 Stat. 2306, “plainly” required the defendant to control
the troops under his command), with 327 U. S., at 35 (Murphy, J.,
dissenting), the disagreement between the majority and the
dissenters in that case concerned whether the historic and textual
evidence constituted clear precedent—not whether clear precedent
was required to justify trial by law-of-war military
commission.
At a minimum, the Government must make a
substantial showing that the crime for which it seeks to try a
defendant by military commission is acknowledged to be an offense
against the law of war. That burden is far from satisfied here. The
crime of “conspiracy” has rarely if ever been tried as such in this
country by any law-of-war military commission not exercising some
other form of jurisdiction,[
Footnote 35] and does not appear in either the Geneva
Conventions or the Hague Conventions—the major treaties on the law
of war.[
Footnote 36]
Winthrop explains that under the common law governing military
commissions, it is not enough to intend to violate the law of war
and commit overt acts in furtherance of that intention unless the
overt acts either are themselves offenses against the law of war or
constitute steps sufficiently substantial to qualify as an attempt.
See Winthrop 841 (“[T]he jurisdiction of the military commission
should be restricted to cases of offence consisting in
overt
acts,
i.e., in unlawful commissions or actual
attempts to commit, and not in intentions merely” (emphasis in
original)).
The Government cites three sources that it
says show otherwise. First, it points out that the Nazi saboteurs
in
Quirin were charged with conspiracy. See Brief for
Respondents 27. Second, it observes that Winthrop at one point in
his treatise identifies conspiracy as an offense “prosecuted by
military commissions.”
Ibid. (citing Winthrop 839, and
n. 5). Finally, it notes that another military historian,
Charles Roscoe Howland, lists conspiracy “ ‘to violate the
laws of war by destroying life or property in aid of the
enemy’ ” as an offense that was tried as a violation of the
law of war during the Civil War. Brief for Respondents 27–28
(citing C. Howland, Digest of Opinions of the Judge Advocates
General of the Army 1071 (1912) (hereinafter Howland)). On close
analysis, however, these sources at best lend little support to the
Government’s position and at worst undermine it. By any measure,
they fail to satisfy the high standard of clarity required to
justify the use of a military commission.
That the defendants in
Quirin were
charged with conspiracy is not persuasive, since the Court declined
to address whether the offense actually qualified as a violation of
the law of war—let alone one triable by military commission. The
Quirin defendants were charged with the following
offenses:
“[I.] Violation of the law of war.
“[II.] Violation of Article 81 of the Articles of War, defining
the offense of relieving or attempting to relieve, or corresponding
with or giving intelligence to, the enemy.
“[III.] Violation of Article 82, defining the offense of
spying.
“[IV.] Conspiracy to commit the offenses alleged in charges [I,
II, and III].” 317 U. S., at 23.
The Government, defending its charge, argued that
the conspiracy alleged “constitute[d] an additional violation of
the law of war.”
Id., at 15. The saboteurs disagreed; they
maintained that “[t]he charge of conspiracy can not stand if the
other charges fall.”
Id., at 8. The Court, however,
declined to resolve the dispute. It concluded, first, that the
specification supporting Charge I adequately alleged a “violation
of the law of war” that was not “merely colorable or without
foundation.”
Id., at 36. The facts the Court deemed
sufficient for this purpose were that the defendants, admitted
enemy combatants, entered upon U. S. territory in time of war
without uniform “for the purpose of destroying property used or
useful in prosecuting the war.” That act was “a hostile and
warlike” one.
Id., at 36, 37. The Court was careful in its
decision to identify an overt, “complete” act. Responding to the
argument that the saboteurs had “not actually committed or
attempted to commit any act of depredation or entered the theatre
or zone of active military operations” and therefore had not
violated the law of war, the Court responded that they had actually
“passed our military and naval lines and defenses or went behind
those lines, in civilian dress and with hostile purpose.”
Id., at 38. “The offense was complete when with that
purpose they entered—or, having so entered, they remained upon—our
territory in time of war without uniform or other appropriate means
of identification.”
Ibid.
Turning to the other charges alleged, the
Court explained that “[s]ince the first specification of Charge I
sets forth a violation of the law of war, we have no occasion to
pass on the adequacy of the second specification of Charge I, or to
construe the 81st and 82nd Articles of War for the purpose of
ascertaining whether the specifications under Charges II and III
allege violations of those Articles or whether if so construed they
are constitutional.”
Id., at 46. No mention was made at
all of Charge IV—the conspiracy charge.
If anything,
Quirin supports Hamdan’s
argument that conspiracy is not a violation of the law of war. Not
only did the Court pointedly omit any discussion of the conspiracy
charge, but its analysis of Charge I placed special emphasis on the
completion of an offense; it took seriously the saboteurs’
argument that there can be no violation of a law of war—at least
not one triable by military commission—without the actual
commission of or attempt to commit a “hostile and warlike act.”
Id., at 37–38.
That limitation makes eminent sense when one
considers the necessity from whence this kind of military
commission grew: The need to dispense swift justice, often in the
form of execution, to illegal belligerents captured on the
battlefield. See S. Rep. No. 130, 64th Cong., 1st Sess., p. 40
(1916) (testimony of Brig. Gen. Enoch H. Crowder) (observing that
Article of War 15 preserves the power of “the military commander
in the field in time of war” to use military commissions
(emphasis added)). The same urgency would not have been felt
vis-À-vis enemies who had done little more than agree to violate
the laws of war. Cf. 31 Op. Atty. Gen. 356, 357, 361 (1918)
(opining that a German spy could not be tried by military
commission because, having been apprehended before entering “any
camp, fortification or other military premises of the United
States,” he had “committed [his offenses] outside of the field of
military operations”). The
Quirin Court acknowledged as
much when it described the President’s authority to use law-of-war
military commissions as the power to “seize and subject to
disciplinary measures those enemies
who in their attempt to
thwart or impede our military effort have violated the law of
war.” 317 U. S., at 28–29 (emphasis added).
Winthrop and Howland are only superficially
more helpful to the Government. Howland, granted, lists “conspiracy
by two or more to violate the laws of war by destroying life or
property in aid of the enemy” as one of over 20 “offenses against
the laws and usages of war” “passed upon and punished by military
commissions.” Howland 1071. But while the records of cases that
Howland cites following his list of offenses against the law of war
support inclusion of the other offenses mentioned, they provide no
support for the inclusion of conspiracy as a violation of the law
of war. See
ibid. (citing Record Books of the Judge
Advocate General Office, R. 2, 144; R. 3, 401, 589, 649; R. 4, 320;
R. 5, 36, 590; R. 6, 20; R. 7, 413; R. 8, 529; R. 9, 149, 202, 225,
481, 524, 535; R. 10, 567; R. 11, 473, 513; R. 13, 125, 675; R. 16,
446; R. 21, 101, 280). Winthrop, apparently recognizing as much,
excludes conspiracy of any kind from his own list of offenses
against the law of war. See Winthrop 839–840.
Winthrop does, unsurprisingly, include
“criminal conspiracies” in his list of “[c]rimes and statutory
offenses cognizable by State or U. S. courts” and triable by
martial law or military government commission. See
id., at
839. And, in a footnote, he cites several Civil War examples of
“conspiracies of this class,
or of the first and second classes
combined.”
Id., at 839, n. 5 (emphasis added).
The Government relies on this footnote for its contention that
conspiracy was triable both as an ordinary crime (a crime of the
“first class”) and, independently, as a war crime (a crime of the
“second class”). But the footnote will not support the weight the
Government places on it.
As we have seen, the military commissions
convened during the Civil War functioned at once as martial law or
military government tribunals and as law-of-war commissions. See n.
27,
supra. Accordingly, they regularly tried war crimes
and ordinary crimes together. Indeed, as Howland observes, “[n]ot
infrequently the crime, as charged and found, was a combination of
the two species of offenses.” Howland 1071; see also Davis 310,
n. 2; Winthrop 842. The example he gives is “ ‘murder in
violation of the laws of war.’ ” Howland 1071–1072. Winthrop’s
conspiracy “of the first and second classes combined” is, like
Howland’s example, best understood as a species of compound offense
of the type tried by the hybrid military commissions of the Civil
War. It is not a stand-alone offense against the law of war.
Winthrop confirms this understanding later in his discussion, when
he emphasizes that “
overt acts” constituting war crimes
are the only proper subject at least of those military tribunals
not convened to stand in for local courts. Winthrop 841, and nn.
22, 23 (emphasis in original) (citing W. Finlason, Martial Law 130
(1867)).
Justice Thomas cites as evidence that
conspiracy is a recognized violation of the law of war the Civil
War indictment against Henry Wirz, which charged the defendant with
“ ‘[m]aliciously, willfully, and traitorously … combining,
confederating, and conspiring [with others] to injure the health
and destroy the lives of soldiers in the military service of the
United States … to the end that the armies of the United States
might be weakened and impaired, in violation of the laws and
customs of war.’ ”
Post, at 24–25 (dissenting
opinion) (quoting H. R. Doc. No. 314, 55th Cong., 3d Sess.,
785 (1865); emphasis deleted). As shown by the specification
supporting that charge, however, Wirz was alleged to have
personally committed a number of atrocities against his
victims, including torture, injection of prisoners with poison, and
use of “ferocious and bloodthirsty dogs” to “seize, tear, mangle,
and maim the bodies and limbs” of prisoners, many of whom died as a
result.
Id., at 789–790. Crucially, Judge Advocate General
Holt determined that one of Wirz’s alleged co-conspirators,
R. B. Winder, should
not be tried by military
commission because there was as yet insufficient evidence of his
own personal involvement in the atrocities: “[I]n the case of
R. B. Winder,
while the evidence at the trial of Wirz was
deemed by the court to implicate him in the conspiracy against
the lives of all Federal prisoners in rebel hands,
no such
specific overt acts of violation of the laws of war are as yet
fixed upon him as to make it expedient to prefer formal charges and
bring him to trial.”
Id., at 783 (emphases
added).[
Footnote 37]
Finally, international sources confirm that
the crime charged here is not a recognized violation of the law of
war.[
Footnote 38] As
observed above, see
supra, at 40, none of the major
treaties governing the law of war identifies conspiracy as a
violation thereof. And the only “conspiracy” crimes that have been
recognized by international war crimes tribunals (whose
jurisdiction often extends beyond war crimes proper to crimes
against humanity and crimes against the peace) are conspiracy to
commit genocide and common plan to wage aggressive war, which is a
crime against the peace and requires for its commission actual
participation in a “concrete plan to wage war.” 1 Trial of the
Major War Criminals Before the International Military Tribunal:
Nuremberg, 14 November 1945–1 October 1946, p. 225 (1947). The
International Military Tribunal at Nuremberg, over the
prosecution’s objections, pointedly refused to recognize as a
violation of the law of war conspiracy to commit war crimes, see,
e.g., 22
id., at 469,[
Footnote 39] and convicted only Hitler’s most senior
associates of conspiracy to wage aggressive war, see S. Pomorski,
Conspiracy and Criminal Organization, in the Nuremberg Trial and
International Law 213, 233–235 (G. Ginsburgs & V. Kudriavtsev
eds. 1990). As one prominent figure from the Nuremberg trials has
explained, members of the Tribunal objected to recognition of
conspiracy as a violation of the law of war on the ground that
“[t]he Anglo-American concept of conspiracy was not part of
European legal systems and arguably not an element of the
internationally recognized laws of war.” T. Taylor, Anatomy of the
Nuremberg Trials: A Personal Memoir 36 (1992); see also
id., at 550 (observing that Francis Biddle, who as
Attorney General prosecuted the defendants in
Quirin,
thought the French judge had made a “ ‘persuasive argument
that conspiracy in the truest sense is not known to international
law’ ”).[
Footnote
40]
In sum, the sources that the Government and
Justice Thomas rely upon to show that conspiracy to violate the law
of war is itself a violation of the law of war in fact demonstrate
quite the opposite. Far from making the requisite substantial
showing, the Government has failed even to offer a “merely
colorable” case for inclusion of conspiracy among those offenses
cognizable by law-of-war military commission. Cf.
Quirin,
317 U. S., at 36. Because the charge does not support the
commission’s jurisdiction, the commission lacks authority to try
Hamdan.
The charge’s shortcomings are not merely
formal, but are indicative of a broader inability on the
Executive’s part here to satisfy the most basic precondition—at
least in the absence of specific congressional authorization—for
establishment of military commissions: military necessity. Hamdan’s
tribunal was appointed not by a military commander in the field of
battle, but by a retired major general stationed away from any
active hostilities. Cf.
Rasul v.
Bush, 542 U. S.,
at 487 (Kennedy, J., concurring in judgment) (observing that
“Guantanamo Bay is … far removed from any hostilities”). Hamdan is
charged not with an overt act for which he was caught redhanded in
a theater of war and which military efficiency demands be tried
expeditiously, but with an
agreement the inception of
which long predated the attacks of September 11, 2001 and the AUMF.
That may well be a crime,[
Footnote 41] but it is not an offense that “by the law of
war may be tried by military commissio[n].” 10 U. S. C.
§821. None of the overt acts alleged to have been committed in
furtherance of the agreement is itself a war crime, or even
necessarily occurred during time of, or in a theater of, war. Any
urgent need for imposition or execution of judgment is utterly
belied by the record; Hamdan was arrested in November 2001 and he
was not charged until mid-2004. These simply are not the
circumstances in which, by any stretch of the historical evidence
or this Court’s precedents, a military commission established by
Executive Order under the authority of Article 21 of the UCMJ may
lawfully try a person and subject him to punishment.
VI
Whether or not the Government has
charged Hamdan with an offense against the law of war cognizable by
military commission, the commission lacks power to proceed. The
UCMJ conditions the President’s use of military commissions on
compliance not only with the American common law of war, but also
with the rest of the UCMJ itself, insofar as applicable, and with
the “rules and precepts of the law of nations,”
Quirin,
317 U. S., at 28—including,
inter alia, the four Geneva
Conventions signed in 1949. See
Yamashita, 327 U. S., at
20–21, 23–24. The procedures that the Government has decreed will
govern Hamdan’s trial by commission violate these laws.
A
The commission’s procedures are
set forth in Commission Order No. 1, which was amended most
recently on
August 31, 2005—after Hamdan’s trial had already
begun. Every commission established pursuant to Commission Order
No. 1 must have a presiding officer and at least three other
members, all of whom must be commissioned officers. §4(A)(1). The
presiding officer’s job is to rule on questions of law and other
evidentiary and interlocutory issues; the other members make
findings and, if applicable, sentencing decisions. §4(A)(5). The
accused is entitled to appointed military counsel and may hire
civilian counsel at his own expense so long as such counsel is a U.
S. citizen with security clearance “at the level SECRET or higher.”
§§4(C)(2)–(3).
The accused also is entitled to a
copy of the charge(s) against him, both in English and his own
language (if different), to a presumption of innocence, and to
certain other rights typically afforded criminal defendants in
civilian courts and courts-martial. See §§5(A)–(P). These rights
are subject, however, to one glaring condition: The accused and his
civilian counsel may be excluded from, and precluded from ever
learning what evidence was presented during, any part of the
proceeding that either the Appointing Authority or the presiding
officer decides to “close.” Grounds for such closure “include the
protection of information classified or classifiable … ;
information protected by law or rule from unauthorized disclosure;
the physical safety of participants in Commission proceedings,
including prospective witnesses; intelligence and law enforcement
sources, methods, or activities; and other national security
interests.” §6(B)(3).[
Footnote
42] Appointed military defense counsel must be privy to these
closed sessions, but may, at the presiding officer’s discretion, be
forbidden to reveal to his or her client what took place therein.
Ibid.
Another striking feature of the rules
governing Hamdan’s commission is that they permit the admission of
any evidence that, in the opinion of the presiding
officer, “would have probative value to a reasonable person.”
§6(D)(1). Under this test, not only is testimonial hearsay and
evidence obtained through coercion fully admissible, but neither
live testimony nor witnesses’ written statements need be sworn. See
§§6(D)(2)(b), (3). Moreover, the accused and his civilian counsel
may be denied access to evidence in the form of “protected
information” (which includes classified information as well as
“information protected by law or rule from unauthorized disclosure”
and “information concerning other national security interests,”
§§6(B)(3), 6(D)(5)(a)(v)), so long as the presiding officer
concludes that the evidence is “probative” under §6(D)(1) and that
its admission without the accused’s knowledge would not “result in
the denial of a full and fair trial.” §6(D)(5)(b).[
Footnote 43] Finally, a presiding
officer’s determination that evidence “would not have probative
value to a reasonable person” may be overridden by a majority of
the other commission members. §6(D)(1).
Once all the evidence is in, the commission
members (not including the presiding officer) must vote on the
accused’s guilt. A two-thirds vote will suffice for both a verdict
of guilty and for imposition of any sentence not including death
(the imposition of which requires a unanimous vote). §6(F). Any
appeal is taken to a three-member review panel composed of military
officers and designated by the Secretary of Defense, only one
member of which need have experience as a judge. §6(H)(4). The
review panel is directed to “disregard any variance from procedures
specified in this Order or elsewhere that would not materially have
affected the outcome of the trial before the Commission.”
Ibid. Once the panel makes its recommendation to the
Secretary of Defense, the Secretary can either remand for further
proceedings or forward the record to the President with his
recommendation as to final disposition. §6(H)(5). The President
then, unless he has delegated the task to the Secretary, makes the
“final decision.” §6(H)(6). He may change the commission’s findings
or sentence only in a manner favorable to the accused.
Ibid.
B
Hamdan raises both general
and particular objections to the procedures set forth in Commission
Order No. 1. His general objection is that the procedures’ admitted
deviation from those governing courts-martial itself renders the
commission illegal. Chief among his particular objections are that
he may, under the Commission Order, be convicted based on evidence
he has not seen or heard, and that any evidence admitted against
him need not comply with the admissibility or relevance rules
typically applicable in criminal trials and court-martial
proceedings.
The Government objects to our
consideration of any procedural challenge at this stage on the
grounds that (1) the abstention doctrine espoused in
Councilman,
420
U. S. 738, precludes pre-enforcement review of procedural
rules, (2) Hamdan will be able to raise any such challenge
following a “final decision” under the DTA, and (3) “there is … no
basis to presume, before the trial has even commenced, that the
trial will not be conducted in good faith and according to law.”
Brief for Respondents 45–46, nn. 20–21. The first of these
contentions was disposed of in Part III,
supra, and
neither of the latter two is sound.
First, because Hamdan apparently is not
subject to the death penalty (at least as matters now stand) and
may receive a sentence shorter than 10 years’ imprisonment, he has
no automatic right to review of the commission’s “final
decision”[
Footnote 44]
before a federal court under the DTA. See §1005(e)(3), 119 Stat.
2743. Second, contrary to the Government’s assertion, there
is a “basis to presume” that the procedures employed
during Hamdan’s trial will violate the law: The procedures are
described with particularity in Commission Order No. 1, and
implementation of some of them has already occurred. One of
Hamdan’s complaints is that he will be, and
indeed already has
been, excluded from his own trial. See Reply Brief for
Petitioner 12; App. to Pet. for Cert. 45a. Under these
circumstances, review of the procedures in advance of a “final
decision”—the timing of which is left entirely to the discretion of
the President under the DTA—is appropriate. We turn, then, to
consider the merits of Hamdan’s procedural challenge.
C
In part because the difference
between military commissions and courts-martial originally was a
difference of jurisdiction alone, and in part to protect against
abuse and ensure evenhandedness under the pressures of war, the
procedures governing trials by military commission historically
have been the same as those governing courts-martial. See,
e.g., 1 The War of the Rebellion 248 (2d series 1894)
(General Order 1 issued during the Civil War required military
commissions to “be constituted in a similar manner and their
proceedings be conducted according to the same general rules as
courts-martial in order to prevent abuses which might otherwise
arise”). Accounts of commentators from Winthrop through General
Crowder—who drafted Article of War 15 and whose views have been
deemed “authoritative” by this Court,
Madsen, 343 U. S.,
at 353—confirm as much.[
Footnote
45] As recently as the Korean and Vietnam wars, during which
use of military commissions was contemplated but never made, the
principle of procedural parity was espoused as a background
assumption. See Paust, Antiterrorism Military Commissions: Courting
Illegality, 23 Mich. J. Int’l L. 1, 3–5 (2001–2002).
There is a glaring historical
exception to this general rule. The procedures and evidentiary
rules used to try General Yamashita near the end of World War II
deviated in significant respects from those then governing
courts-martial. See
327 U. S.
1. The force of that precedent, however, has been seriously
undermined by post-World War II developments.
Yamashita, from late 1944 until September
1945, was Commanding General of the Fourteenth Army Group of the
Imperial Japanese Army, which had exercised control over the
Philippine Islands. On September 3, 1945, after American forces
regained control of the Philippines, Yamashita surrendered. Three
weeks later, he was charged with violations of the law of war. A
few weeks after that, he was arraigned before a military commission
convened in the Philippines. He pleaded not guilty, and his trial
lasted for two months. On December 7, 1945, Yamashita was convicted
and sentenced to hang. See
id., at 5;
id., at
31–34 (Murphy, J., dissenting). This Court upheld the denial of his
petition for a writ of habeas corpus.
The procedures and rules of evidence employed
during Yamashita’s trial departed so far from those used in
courts-martial that they generated an unusually long and vociferous
critique from two Members of this Court. See
id., at 41–81
(Rutledge, J., joined by Murphy, J., dissenting).[
Footnote 46] Among the dissenters’ primary
concerns was that the commission had free rein to consider all
evidence “which in the commission’s opinion ‘would be of assistance
in proving or disproving the charge,’ without any of the usual
modes of authentication.”
Id., at 49 (Rutledge, J.).
The majority, however, did not pass on the
merits of Yamashita’s procedural challenges because it concluded
that his status disentitled him to any protection under the
Articles of War (specifically, those set forth in Article 38, which
would become Article 36 of the UCMJ) or the Geneva Convention of
1929, 47 Stat. 2021 (1929 Geneva Convention). The Court explained
that Yamashita was neither a “person made subject to the Articles
of War by Article 2” thereof, 327 U. S., at 20, nor a protected
prisoner of war being tried for crimes committed during his
detention,
id., at 21.
At least partially in response to subsequent
criticism of General Yamashita’s trial, the UCMJ’s codification of
the Articles of War after World War II expanded the category of
persons subject thereto to include defendants in Yamashita’s (and
Hamdan’s) position,[
Footnote
47] and the Third Geneva Convention of 1949 extended
prisoner-of-war protections to individuals tried for crimes
committed before their capture. See 3 Int’l Comm. of Red
Cross,[
Footnote 48]
Commentary: Geneva Convention Relative to the Treatment of
Prisoners of War 413 (1960) (hereinafter GCIII Commentary)
(explaining that Article 85, which extends the Convention’s
protections to “[p]risoners of war prosecuted under the laws of the
Detaining Power for acts committed prior to capture,” was adopted
in response to judicial interpretations of the 1929 Convention,
including this Court’s decision in
Yamashita). The most
notorious exception to the principle of uniformity, then, has been
stripped of its precedential value.
The uniformity principle is not an inflexible
one; it does not preclude all departures from the procedures
dictated for use by courts-martial. But any departure must be
tailored to the exigency that necessitates it. See Winthrop 835, n.
81. That understanding is reflected in Article 36 of the UCMJ,
which provides:
“(a) The procedure, including
modes of proof, in cases before courts-martial, courts of inquiry,
military commissions, and other military tribunals may be
prescribed by the President by regulations which shall, so far as
he considers practicable, apply the principles of law and the rules
of evidence generally recognized in the trial of criminal cases in
the United States district courts, but which may not be contrary to
or inconsistent with this chapter.
“(b) All rules and regulations made under this
article shall be uniform insofar as practicable and shall be
reported to Congress.” 70A Stat. 50.
Article 36 places two
restrictions on the President’s power to promulgate rules of
procedure for courts-martial and military commissions alike. First,
no procedural rule he adopts may be “contrary to or inconsistent
with” the UCMJ—however practical it may seem. Second, the rules
adopted must be “uniform insofar as practicable.” That is, the
rules applied to military commissions must be the same as those
applied to courts-martial unless such uniformity proves
impracticable.
Hamdan argues that Commission Order No. 1
violates both of these restrictions; he maintains that the
procedures described in the Commission Order are inconsistent with
the UCMJ and that the Government has offered no explanation for
their deviation from the procedures governing courts-martial, which
are set forth in the Manual for Courts-Martial, United States (2005
ed.) (Manual for Courts-Martial). Among the inconsistencies Hamdan
identifies is that between §6 of the Commission Order, which
permits exclusion of the accused from proceedings and denial of his
access to evidence in certain circumstances, and the UCMJ’s
requirement that “[a]ll … proceedings” other than votes and
deliberations by courts-martial “shall be made a part of the record
and shall be in the presence of the accused.” 10 U. S. C. A.
§839(c) (Supp. 2006). Hamdan also observes that the Commission
Order dispenses with virtually all evidentiary rules applicable in
courts-martial.
The Government has three responses. First, it
argues, only 9 of the UCMJ’s 158 Articles—the ones that expressly
mention “military commissions”[
Footnote 49]—actually apply to commissions, and
Commission Order No. 1 sets forth no procedure that is “contrary to
or inconsistent with” those 9 provisions. Second, the Government
contends, military commissions would be of no use if the President
were hamstrung by those provisions of the UCMJ that govern
courts-martial. Finally, the President’s determination that “the
danger to the safety of the United States and the nature of
international terrorism” renders it impracticable “to apply in
military commissions … the principles of law and rules of evidence
generally recognized in the trial of criminal cases in the United
States district courts,” November 13 Order §1(f), is, in the
Government’s view, explanation enough for any deviation from
court-martial procedures. See Brief for Respondents 43–47, and n.
22.
Hamdan has the better of this argument.
Without reaching the question whether any provision of Commission
Order No. 1 is strictly “contrary to or inconsistent with” other
provisions of the UCMJ, we conclude that the “practicability”
determination the President has made is insufficient to justify
variances from the procedures governing courts-martial. Subsection
(b) of Article 36 was added after World War II, and requires a
different showing of impracticability from the one required by
subsection (a). Subsection (a) requires that the rules the
President promulgates for courts-martial, provost courts, and
military commissions alike conform to those that govern procedures
in
Article III courts, “so far as
he considers
practicable.” 10 U. S. C. §836(a) (emphasis added). Subsection
(b), by contrast, demands that the rules applied in courts-martial,
provost courts, and military commissions—whether or not they
conform with the Federal Rules of Evidence—be “uniform
insofar
as practicable.” §836(b) (emphasis added). Under the latter
provision, then, the rules set forth in the Manual for
Courts-Martial must apply to military commissions unless
impracticable.[
Footnote
50]
The President here has determined, pursuant to
subsection (a), that it is impracticable to apply the rules and
principles of law that govern “the trial of criminal cases in the
United States district courts,” §836(a), to Hamdan’s commission. We
assume that complete deference is owed that determination. The
President has not, however, made a similar official determination
that it is impracticable to apply the rules for
courts-martial.[
Footnote 51]
And even if subsection (b)’s requirements may be satisfied without
such an official determination, the requirements of that subsection
are not satisfied here.
Nothing in the record before us demonstrates
that it would be impracticable to apply court-martial rules in this
case. There is no suggestion, for example, of any logistical
difficulty in securing properly sworn and authenticated evidence or
in applying the usual principles of relevance and admissibility.
Assuming
arguendo that the reasons articulated in the
President’s Article 36(a) determination ought to be considered in
evaluating the impracticability of applying court-martial rules,
the only reason offered in support of that determination is the
danger posed by international terrorism.[
Footnote 52] Without for one moment underestimating
that danger, it is not evident to us why it should require, in the
case of Hamdan’s trial, any variance from the rules that govern
courts-martial.
The absence of any showing of impracticability
is particularly disturbing when considered in light of the clear
and admitted failure to apply one of the most fundamental
protections afforded not just by the Manual for Courts-Martial but
also by the UCMJ itself: the right to be present. See 10 U.
S. C. A. §839(c) (Supp. 2006). Whether or not that departure
technically is “contrary to or inconsistent with” the terms of the
UCMJ, 10 U. S. C. §836(a), the jettisoning of so basic a right
cannot lightly be excused as “practicable.”
Under the circumstances, then, the rules
applicable in courts-martial must apply. Since it is undisputed
that Commission Order No. 1 deviates in many significant respects
from those rules, it necessarily violates Article 36(b).
The Government’s objection that requiring
compliance with the court-martial rules imposes an undue burden
both ignores the plain meaning of Article 36(b) and misunderstands
the purpose and the history of military commissions. The military
commission was not born of a desire to dispense a more summary form
of justice than is afforded by courts-martial; it developed,
rather, as a tribunal of necessity to be employed when
courts-martial lacked jurisdiction over either the accused or the
subject matter. See Winthrop 831. Exigency lent the commission its
legitimacy, but did not further justify the wholesale jettisoning
of procedural protections. That history explains why the military
commission’s procedures typically have been the ones used by
courts-martial. That the jurisdiction of the two tribunals today
may sometimes overlap, see
Madsen, 343 U. S., at 354, does
not detract from the force of this history;[
Footnote 53] Article 21 did not transform the
military commission from a tribunal of true exigency into a more
convenient adjudicatory tool. Article 36, confirming as much,
strikes a careful balance between uniform procedure and the need to
accommodate exigencies that may sometimes arise in a theater of
war. That Article not having been complied with here, the rules
specified for Hamdan’s trial are illegal.[
Footnote 54]
D
The procedures adopted to try
Hamdan also violate the Geneva Conventions. The Court of Appeals
dismissed Hamdan’s Geneva Convention challenge on three independent
grounds: (1) the Geneva Conventions are not judicially enforceable;
(2) Hamdan in any event is not entitled to their protections; and
(3) even if he is entitled to their protections,
Councilman abstention is appropriate. Judge Williams,
concurring, rejected the second ground but agreed with the majority
respecting the first and the last. As we explained in Part III,
supra, the abstention rule applied in
Councilman,
420
U. S. 738, is not applicable here.[
Footnote 55] And for the reasons that follow, we hold
that neither of the other grounds the Court of Appeals gave for its
decision is persuasive.
i
The Court of Appeals relied on
Johnson v.
Eisentrager, 339 U. S. 763 (1950), to
hold that Hamdan could not invoke the Geneva Conventions to
challenge the Government’s plan to prosecute him in accordance with
Commission Order No. 1.
Eisentrager involved a challenge
by 21 German nationals to their 1945 convictions for war crimes by
a military tribunal convened in Nanking, China, and to their
subsequent imprisonment in occupied Germany. The petitioners
argued,
inter alia, that the 1929 Geneva Convention
rendered illegal some of the procedures employed during their
trials, which they said deviated impermissibly from the procedures
used by courts-martial to try American soldiers. See
id.,
at 789. We rejected that claim on the merits because the
petitioners (unlike Hamdan here) had failed to identify any
prejudicial disparity “between the Commission that tried [them] and
those that would try an offending soldier of the American forces of
like rank,” and in any event could claim no protection, under the
1929 Convention, during trials for crimes that occurred before
their confinement as prisoners of war.
Id., at
790.[
Footnote 56]
Buried in a footnote of the
opinion, however, is this curious statement suggesting that the
Court lacked power even to consider the merits of the Geneva
Convention argument:
“We are not holding that these prisoners have no
right which the military authorities are bound to respect. The
United States, by the Geneva Convention of July 27, 1929, 47 Stat.
2021, concluded with forty-six other countries, including the
German Reich, an agreement upon the treatment to be accorded
captives. These prisoners claim to be and are entitled to its
protection. It is, however, the obvious scheme of the Agreement
that responsibility for observance and enforcement of these rights
is upon political and military authorities. Rights of alien enemies
are vindicated under it only through protests and intervention of
protecting powers as the rights of our citizens against foreign
governments are vindicated only by Presidential intervention.”
Id., at 789, n. 14.
The Court of Appeals, on the strength of this
footnote, held that “the 1949 Geneva Convention does not confer
upon Hamdan a right to enforce its provisions in court.” 415
F. 3d, at 40.
Whatever else might be said about the
Eisentrager footnote, it does not control this case. We
may assume that “the obvious scheme” of the 1949 Conventions is
identical in all relevant respects to that of the 1929
Convention,[
Footnote 57] and
even that that scheme would, absent some other provision of law,
preclude Hamdan’s invocation of the Convention’s provisions as an
independent source of law binding the Government’s actions and
furnishing petitioner with any enforceable right.[
Footnote 58] For, regardless of the nature
of the rights conferred on Hamdan, cf.
United States v.
Rauscher, 119 U. S. 407 (1886),
they are, as the Government does not dispute, part of the law of
war. See
Hamdi, 542 U. S., at 520–521 (plurality opinion).
And compliance with the law of war is the condition upon which the
authority set forth in Article 21 is granted.
ii
For the Court of Appeals,
acknowledgment of that condition was no bar to Hamdan’s trial by
commission. As an alternative to its holding that Hamdan could not
invoke the Geneva Conventions at all, the Court of Appeals
concluded that the Conventions did not in any event apply to the
armed conflict during which Hamdan was captured. The court accepted
the Executive’s assertions that Hamdan was captured in connection
with the United States’ war with al Qaeda and that that war is
distinct from the war with the Taliban in Afghanistan. It further
reasoned that the war with al Qaeda evades the reach of the Geneva
Conventions. See 415 F. 3d, at 41–42. We, like Judge Williams,
disagree with the latter conclusion.
The conflict with al Qaeda is
not, according to the Government, a conflict to which the full
protections afforded detainees under the 1949 Geneva Conventions
apply because Article 2 of those Conventions (which appears in all
four Conventions) renders the full protections applicable only to
“all cases of declared war or of any other armed conflict which may
arise between two or more of the High Contracting Parties.” 6 U. S.
T., at 3318.[
Footnote 59]
Since Hamdan was captured and detained incident to the conflict
with al Qaeda and not the conflict with the Taliban, and since al
Qaeda, unlike Afghanistan, is not a “High Contracting
Party”—
i.e., a signatory of the Conventions, the
protections of those Conventions are not, it is argued, applicable
to Hamdan.[
Footnote 60]
We need not decide the merits of this argument
because there is at least one provision of the Geneva Conventions
that applies here even if the relevant conflict is not one between
signatories.[
Footnote 61]
Article 3, often referred to as Common Article 3 because, like
Article 2, it appears in all four Geneva Conventions, provides that
in a “conflict not of an international character occurring in the
territory of one of the High Contracting Parties, each
Party[
Footnote 62] to the
conflict shall be bound to apply, as a minimum,” certain provisions
protecting “[p]ersons taking no active part in the hostilities,
including members of armed forces who have laid down their arms and
those placed
hors de combat by … detention.”
Id.,
at 3318. One such provision prohibits “the passing of sentences and
the carrying out of executions without previous judgment pronounced
by a regularly constituted court affording all the judicial
guarantees which are recognized as indispensable by civilized
peoples.”
Ibid.
The Court of Appeals thought, and the
Government asserts, that Common Article 3 does not apply to Hamdan
because the conflict with al Qaeda, being “ ‘international in
scope,’ ” does not qualify as a “ ‘conflict not of an
international character.’ ” 415 F. 3d, at 41. That
reasoning is erroneous. The term “conflict not of an international
character” is used here in contradistinction to a conflict between
nations. So much is demonstrated by the “fundamental logic [of] the
Convention’s provisions on its application.”
Id., at 44
(Williams, J., concurring). Common Article 2 provides that “the
present Convention shall apply to all cases of declared war or of
any other armed conflict which may arise between two or more of the
High Contracting Parties.” 6 U. S. T., at 3318 (Art. 2, ¶1). High
Contracting Parties (signatories) also must abide by all terms of
the Conventions vis-À-vis one another even if one party to the
conflict is a nonsignatory “Power,” and must so abide vis-À-vis the
nonsignatory if “the latter accepts and applies” those terms.
Ibid. (Art. 2, ¶3). Common Article 3, by contrast, affords
some minimal protection, falling short of full protection under the
Conventions, to individuals associated with neither a signatory nor
even a nonsignatory “Power” who are involved in a conflict “in the
territory of” a signatory. The latter kind of conflict is
distinguishable from the conflict described in Common Article 2
chiefly because it does not involve a clash between nations
(whether signatories or not). In context, then, the phrase “not of
an international character” bears its literal meaning. See,
e.g., J. Bentham, Introduction to the Principles of Morals
and Legislation 6, 296 (J. Burns & H. Hart eds. 1970) (using
the term “international law” as a “new though not inexpressive
appellation” meaning “betwixt nation and nation”; defining
“international” to include “mutual transactions between sovereigns
as such”); Commentary on the Additional Protocols to the Geneva
Conventions of 12 August 1949, p. 1351 (1987) (“[A]
non-international armed conflict is distinct from an international
armed conflict because of the legal status of the entities opposing
each other”).
Although the official commentaries
accompanying Common Article 3 indicate that an important purpose of
the provision was to furnish minimal protection to rebels involved
in one kind of “conflict not of an international character,”
i.e., a civil war, see GCIII Commentary 36–37, the
commentaries also make clear “that the scope of the Article must be
as wide as possible,”
id., at 36.[
Footnote 63] In fact, limiting language that
would have rendered Common Article 3 applicable “especially [to]
cases of civil war, colonial conflicts, or wars of religion,” was
omitted from the final version of the Article, which coupled
broader scope of application with a narrower range of rights than
did earlier proposed iterations. See GCIII Commentary 42–43.
iii
Common Article 3, then, is
applicable here and, as indicated above, requires that Hamdan be
tried by a “regularly constituted court affording all the judicial
guarantees which are recognized as indispensable by civilized
peoples.” 6 U. S. T., at 3320 (Art. 3, ¶1(d)). While the term
“regularly constituted court” is not specifically defined in either
Common Article 3 or its accompanying commentary, other sources
disclose its core meaning. The commentary accompanying a provision
of the Fourth Geneva Convention, for example, defines
“ ‘regularly constituted’ ” tribunals to include
“ordinary military courts” and “definitely exclud[e] all special
tribunals.” GCIV Commentary 340 (defining the term “properly
constituted” in Article 66, which the commentary treats as
identical to “regularly constituted”);[
Footnote 64] see also
Yamashita, 327 U. S.,
at 44 (Rutledge, J., dissenting) (describing military commission as
a court “specially constituted for a particular trial”). And one of
the Red Cross’ own treatises defines “regularly constituted court”
as used in Common Article 3 to mean “established and organized in
accordance with the laws and procedures already in force in a
country.” Int’l Comm. of Red Cross, 1 Customary International
Humanitarian Law 355 (2005); see also GCIV Commentary 340
(observing that “ordinary military courts” will “be set up in
accordance with the recognized principles governing the
administration of justice”).
The Government offers only a
cursory defense of Hamdan’s military commission in light of Common
Article 3. See Brief for Respondents 49–50. As Justice Kennedy
explains, that defense fails because “[t]he regular military courts
in our system are the courts-martial established by
congressional statutes.”
Post, at 8
(opinion concurring in part). At a minimum, a military commission
“can be ‘regularly constituted’ by the standards of our military
justice system only if some practical need explains deviations from
court-martial practice.”
Post, at 10. As we have
explained, see Part VI–C,
supra, no such need has been
demonstrated here.[
Footnote
65]
iv
Inextricably intertwined with the
question of regular constitution is the evaluation of the
procedures governing the tribunal and whether they afford “all the
judicial guarantees which are recognized as indispensable by
civilized peoples.” 6 U. S. T., at 3320 (Art. 3, ¶1(d)). Like the
phrase “regularly constituted court,” this phrase is not defined in
the text of the Geneva Conventions. But it must be understood to
incorporate at least the barest of those trial protections that
have been recognized by customary international law. Many of these
are described in Article 75 of Protocol I to the Geneva Conventions
of 1949, adopted in 1977 (Protocol I). Although the United States
declined to ratify Protocol I, its objections were not to Article
75 thereof. Indeed, it appears that the Government “regard[s] the
provisions of Article 75 as an articulation of safeguards to which
all persons in the hands of an enemy are entitled.” Taft, The Law
of Armed Conflict After 9/11: Some Salient Features, 28 Yale J.
Int’l L. 319, 322 (2003). Among the rights set forth in Article 75
is the “right to be tried in [one’s] presence.” Protocol I, Art.
75(4)(e).[
Footnote 66]
We agree with Justice Kennedy
that the procedures adopted to try Hamdan deviate from those
governing courts-martial in ways not justified by any “evident
practical need,”
post, at 11, and for that reason, at
least, fail to afford the requisite guarantees. See
post,
at 8, 11–17. We add only that, as noted in Part VI–A,
supra, various provisions of Commission Order No. 1
dispense with the principles, articulated in Article 75 and
indisputably part of the customary international law, that an
accused must, absent disruptive conduct or consent, be present for
his trial and must be privy to the evidence against him. See
§§6(B)(3), (D).[
Footnote 67]
That the Government has a compelling interest in denying Hamdan
access to certain sensitive information is not doubted. Cf.
post, at 47–48 (Thomas, J., dissenting). But, at least
absent express statutory provision to the contrary, information
used to convict a person of a crime must be disclosed to him.
v
Common Article 3 obviously
tolerates a great degree of flexibility in trying individuals
captured during armed conflict; its requirements are general ones,
crafted to accommodate a wide variety of legal systems. But
requirements they are nonetheless. The commission that the
President has convened to try Hamdan does not meet those
requirements.
VII
We have assumed, as we must, that
the allegations made in the Government’s charge against Hamdan are
true. We have assumed, moreover, the truth of the message implicit
in that charge—viz., that Hamdan is a dangerous individual whose
beliefs, if acted upon, would cause great harm and even death to
innocent civilians, and who would act upon those beliefs if given
the opportunity. It bears emphasizing that Hamdan does not
challenge, and we do not today address, the Government’s power to
detain him for the duration of active hostilities in order to
prevent such harm. But in undertaking to try Hamdan and subject him
to criminal punishment, the Executive is bound to comply with the
Rule of Law that prevails in this jurisdiction.
The judgment of the Court of
Appeals is reversed, and the case is remanded for further
proceedings.
It is so ordered.
The Chief Justice took no part in
the consideration or decision of this case.
Footnote 1
An “enemy combatant” is defined by the
military order as “an individual who was part of or supporting
Taliban or al Qaeda forces, or associated forces that are engaged
in hostilities against the United States or its coalition
partners.” Memorandum from Deputy Secretary of Defense Paul
Wolfowitz re: Order Establishing Combatant Status Review Tribunal
§
a (Jul. 7, 2004), available at http://www.defense
link.mil/news/Jul2004/d20040707review.pdf (all Internet materials
as visited June 26, 2006, and available in Clerk of Court’s case
file).
Footnote 2
The military order referenced in this section
is discussed further in Parts III and VI,
infra.
Footnote 3
The penultimate subsections of §1005
emphasize that the provision does not “confer any constitutional
right on an alien detained as an enemy combatant outside the United
States” and that the “United States” does not, for purposes of
§1005, include Guantanamo Bay. §§1005(f)–(g).
Footnote 4
“ ‘
And be it further enacted,
That so much of the act approved February 5, 1867, entitled “An act
to amend an act to establish the judicial courts of the United
States, approved September 24, 1789,” as authorized an appeal from
the judgment of the Circuit Court to the Supreme Court of the
United States, or the exercise of any such jurisdiction by said
Supreme Court, on appeals which have been, or may hereafter be
taken, be, and the same is hereby repealed.’ ” 7 Wall., at
508.
Footnote 5
See
Hughes Aircraft Co. v.
United States ex rel. Schumer, 520 U. S. 939, 951 (1997) (“The fact
that courts often apply newly enacted jurisdiction-allocating
statutes to pending cases merely evidences certain limited
circumstances failing to meet the conditions for our generally
applicable presumption against retroactivity …”).
Footnote 6
Cf.
Hughes Aircraft, 520 U. S., at
951 (“Statutes merely addressing
which court shall have
jurisdiction to entertain a particular cause of action can fairly
be said merely to regulate the secondary conduct of litigation and
not the underlying primary conduct of the parties” (emphasis in
original)).
Footnote 7
In his insistence to the contrary, Justice
Scalia reads too much into
Bruner v.
United
States,
343 U. S. 112 (1952),
Hallowell v.
Commons, 239 U. S. 506 (1916), and
Insurance Co. v.
Ritchie, 5 Wall. 541 (1867). See
post, at 2–4 (dissenting opinion). None of those cases
says that the absence of an express provision reserving
jurisdiction over pending cases trumps or renders irrelevant any
other indications of congressional intent. Indeed,
Bruner
itself relied on such other indications–including a negative
inference drawn from the statutory text, cf.
infra, at
13–to support its conclusion that jurisdiction was not available.
The Court observed that (1) Congress had been put on notice by
prior lower court cases addressing the Tucker Act that it ought to
specifically reserve jurisdiction over pending cases, see 343 U.
S., at 115, and (2) in contrast to the congressional silence
concerning reservation of jurisdiction, reservation
had
been made of “ ‘any rights or liabilities’ existing at the
effective date of the Act” repealed by another provision of the
Act,
ibid., n. 7.
Footnote 8
The question in
Lindh was whether
new limitations on the availability of habeas relief imposed by the
Antiterrorism and Effective Death Penalty Act of 1996 (AEDPA), 110
Stat. 1214, applied to habeas actions pending on the date of
AEDPA’s enactment. We held that they did not. At the outset, we
rejected the State’s argument that, in the absence of a clear
congressional statement to the contrary, a “procedural” rule must
apply to pending cases. 521 U. S., at 326.
Footnote 9
That paragraph (1), along with paragraphs (2)
and (3), is to “take effect on the date of enactment,” DTA
§1005(h)(1), 119 Stat. 2743, is not dispositive; “a ‘statement that
a statute will become effective on a certain date does not even
arguably suggest that it has any application to conduct that
occurred at an earlier date.’ ”
INS v.
St.
Cyr, 533 U. S.
289, 317 (2001) (quoting
Landgraf v.
USI Film
Products, 511 U. S. 244, 257 (1994)). Certainly,
the “effective date” provision cannot bear the weight Justice
Scalia would place on it. See
post, at 5, and n. 1.
Congress deemed that provision insufficient, standing alone, to
render subsections (e)(2) and (e)(3) applicable to pending cases;
hence its adoption of subsection (h)(2). Justice Scalia seeks to
avoid reducing subsection (h)(2) to a mere redundancy—a consequence
he seems to acknowledge must otherwise follow from his
interpretation—by speculating that Congress had special reasons,
not also relevant to subsection (e)(1), to worry that subsections
(e)(2) and (e)(3) would be ruled inapplicable to pending cases. As
we explain
infra, at 17, and n. 12, that attempt
fails.
Footnote 10
We note that statements made by Senators
preceding passage of the Act lend further support to what the text
of the DTA and its drafting history already make plain. Senator
Levin, one of the sponsors of the final bill, objected to earlier
versions of the Act’s “effective date” provision that would have
made subsection (e)(1) applicable to pending cases. See,
e.g., 151 Cong. Rec. S12667 (Nov. 10, 2005) (amendment
proposed by Sen. Graham that would have rendered what is now
subsection (e)(1) applicable to “any application or other action
that is pending on or after the date of the enactment of this
Act”). Senator Levin urged adoption of an alternative amendment
that “would apply only to new habeas cases filed after the date of
enactment.”
Id., at S12802 (Nov. 15, 2005). That
alternative amendment became the text of subsection (h)(2). (In
light of the extensive discussion of the DTA’s effect on pending
cases prior to passage of the Act, see,
e.g.,
id., at S12664 (Nov. 10, 2005);
id., at S12755
(Nov. 14, 2005);
id., at S12799–S12802 (Nov. 15, 2005);
id., at S14245, S14252–S14253, S14257–S14258,
S14274–S14275 (Dec. 21, 2005), it cannot be said that the changes
to subsection (h)(2) were inconsequential. Cf.
post, at 14
(Scalia, J., dissenting).)
While statements attributed to the final
bill’s two other sponsors, Senators Graham and Kyl, arguably
contradict Senator Levin’s contention that the final version of the
Act preserved jurisdiction over pending habeas cases, see 151 Cong.
Rec. S14263–S14264 (Dec. 21, 2005), those statements appear to have
been inserted into the Congressional Record
after the
Senate debate. See Reply Brief for Petitioner 5, n. 6; see
also 151 Cong. Rec. S14260 (statement of Sen. Kyl) (“I would like
to say a few words about the
now-completed National
Defense Authorization Act for fiscal year 2006” (emphasis added)).
All statements made during the debate itself support Senator
Levin’s understanding that the final text of the DTA would not
render subsection (e)(1) applicable to pending cases. See,
e.g.,
id., at S14245, S14252–S14253,
S14274–S14275 (Dec. 21, 2005). The statements that Justice Scalia
cites as evidence to the contrary construe
subsection
(e)(3) to strip this Court of jurisdiction, see
post,
at 12, n. 4 (dissenting opinion) (quoting 151 Cong. Rec.
S12796 (Nov. 15, 2005) (statement of Sen. Specter))—a construction
that the Government has expressly disavowed in this litigation, see
n. 11,
infra. The inapposite November 14, 2005, statement
of Senator Graham, which Justice Scalia cites as evidence of that
Senator’s “assumption that pending cases are covered,”
post, at 12, and n. 3 (citing 151 Cong. Rec. S12756
(Nov. 14, 2005)), follows directly after the uncontradicted
statement of his co-sponsor, Senator Levin, assuring members of the
Senate that “the amendment will not strip the courts of
jurisdiction over [pending] cases.”
Id., at S12755.
Footnote 11
The District of Columbia Circuit’s
jurisdiction, while “exclusive” in one sense, would not bar this
Court’s review on appeal from a decision under the DTA. See Reply
Brief in Support of Respondents’ Motion to Dismiss 16–17,
n. 12 (“While the DTA does not expressly call for Supreme
Court review of the District of Columbia Circuit’s decisions,
Section 1005(e)(2) and (3) … do not remove this Court’s
jurisdiction over such decisions under 28 U. S. C. §1254(1)”).
Footnote 12
This assertion is itself highly questionable.
The cases that Justice Scalia cites to support his distinction are
Republic of Austria v.
Altmann, 541 U. S. 677 (2004), and
Hughes
Aircraft Co. v.
United States ex rel. Schumer,
520 U. S. 939 (1997). See
post, at 8. While the Court in both of those cases
recognized that statutes “creating” jurisdiction may have
retroactive effect if they affect “substantive” rights, see
Altmann, 541 U. S., at 695, and n. 15;
Hughes
Aircraft, 520 U. S., at 951, we have applied the same analysis
to statutes that have jurisdiction-stripping effect, see
Lindh v.
Murphy,
521 U. S. 320, 327–328 (1997);
id., at 342–343 (Rehnquist, C. J., dissenting) (construing
AEDPA’s amendments as “ousting jurisdiction”).
Footnote 13
See
Landgraf, 511 U. S., at 271, n.
25 (observing that “the great majority of our decisions relying
upon the antiretroactivity presumption have involved intervening
statutes burdening private parties,” though “we have applied the
presumption in cases involving
new monetary obligations
that fell only on the government” (emphasis added)); see also
Altmann, 541 U. S., at 728–729 (Kennedy, J., dissenting)
(explaining that if retroactivity concerns do not arise when a new
monetary obligation is imposed on the United States it is because
“Congress, by virtue of authoring the legislation, is itself fully
capable of protecting the Federal Government from having its rights
degraded by retroactive laws”).
Footnote 14
There may be habeas cases that were pending
in the lower courts at the time the DTA was enacted that do qualify
as challenges to “final decision[s]” within the meaning of
subsection (e)(2) or (e)(3). We express no view about whether the
DTA would require transfer of such an action to the District of
Columbia Circuit.
Footnote 15
Because we conclude that §1005(e)(1) does not
strip federal courts’ jurisdiction over cases pending on the date
of the DTA’s enactment, we do not decide whether, if it were
otherwise, this Court would nonetheless retain jurisdiction to hear
Hamdan’s appeal. Cf.
supra, at 10. Nor do we decide the
manner in which the canon of constitutional avoidance should affect
subsequent interpretation of the DTA. See,
e.g.,
St.
Cyr, 533 U. S., at 300 (a construction of a statute “that
would entirely preclude review of a pure question of law by any
court would give rise to substantial constitutional
questions”).
Footnote 16
Councilman distinguished service
personnel from civilians, whose challenges to ongoing military
proceedings are cognizable in federal court. See,
e.g.,
United States ex rel. Toth v.
Quarles, 350 U. S. 11 (1955). As
we explained in
Councilman, abstention is not appropriate
in cases in which individuals raise “ ‘substantial arguments
denying the right of the military to try them at all,’ ” and
in which the legal challenge “turn[s] on the status of the persons
as to whom the military asserted its power.” 420 U. S., at 759
(quoting
Noyd v.
Bond, 395 U. S. 683, 696,
n. 8 (1969)). In other words, we do not apply
Councilman abstention when there is a substantial question
whether a military tribunal has personal jurisdiction over the
defendant. Because we conclude that abstention is inappropriate for
a more basic reason, we need not consider whether the
jurisdictional exception recognized in
Councilman applies
here.
Footnote 17
See also
Noyd, 395 U. S., at 694–696
(noting that the Court of Military Appeals consisted of
“disinterested civilian judges,” and concluding that there was no
reason for the Court to address an Air Force Captain’s argument
that he was entitled to remain free from confinement pending appeal
of his conviction by court-martial “when the highest military court
stands ready to consider petitioner’s arguments”). Cf.
Parisi v.
Davidson, 405 U. S. 34, 41–43
(1972) (“Under accepted principles of comity, the court should stay
its hand only if the relief the petitioner seeks … would also be
available to him with reasonable promptness and certainty through
the machinery of the military judicial system in its processing of
the court-martial charge”).
Footnote 18
If he chooses, the President may delegate
this ultimate decisionmaking authority to the Secretary of Defense.
See §6(H)(6).
Footnote 19
Justice Scalia chides us for failing to
include the District of Columbia Circuit’s review powers under the
DTA in our description of the review mechanism erected by
Commission Order No. 1. See
post, at 22. Whether or not
the limited review permitted under the DTA may be treated as akin
to the plenary review exercised by the Court of Appeals for the
Armed Forces, petitioner here is not afforded a right to such
review. See
infra, at 52; §1005(e)(3), 119 Stat. 2743.
Footnote 20
Having correctly declined to abstain from
addressing Hamdan’s challenge to the lawfulness of the military
commission convened to try him, the Court of Appeals suggested that
Councilman abstention nonetheless applied to bar its
consideration of one of Hamdan’s arguments—namely, that his
commission violated Article 3 of the Third Geneva Convention, 6 U.
S. T. 3316, 3318. See Part VI,
infra. Although the Court
of Appeals rejected the Article 3 argument on the merits, it also
stated that, because the challenge was not “jurisdictional,” it did
not fall within the exception that
Schlesinger v.
Councilman,
420
U. S. 738 (1975), recognized for defendants who raise
substantial arguments that a military tribunal lacks personal
jurisdiction over them. See 415 F. 3d, at 42.
In reaching this conclusion, the Court of
Appeals conflated two distinct inquiries: (1) whether Hamdan has
raised a substantial argument that the military commission lacks
authority to try him; and, more fundamentally, (2) whether the
comity considerations underlying
Councilman apply to
trigger the abstention principle in the first place. As the Court
of Appeals acknowledged at the beginning of its opinion, the first
question warrants consideration only if the answer to the second is
yes. See 415 F. 3d, at 36–37. Since, as the Court of Appeals
properly concluded, the answer to the second question is in fact
no, there is no need to consider any exception.
At any rate, it appears that the exception
would apply here. As discussed in Part VI,
infra, Hamdan
raises a substantial argument that, because the military commission
that has been convened to try him is not a “ ‘regularly
constituted court’ ” under the Geneva Conventions, it is ultra
vires and thus lacks jurisdiction over him. Brief for Petitioner
5.
Footnote 21
See also Winthrop 831 (“[I]n general, it is
those provisions of the Constitution which empower Congress to
‘declare war’ and ‘raise armies,’ and which, in authorizing the
initiation of
war, authorize the employment of all
necessary and proper agencies for its due prosecution, from which
this tribunal derives its original sanction” (emphasis in
original)).
Footnote 22
Article 15 was first adopted as part of the
Articles of War in 1916. See Act of Aug. 29, 1916, ch. 418, §3,
Art. 15, 39 Stat. 652. When the Articles of War were codified and
re-enacted as the UCMJ in 1950, Congress determined to retain
Article 15 because it had been “construed by the Supreme Court
(
Ex Parte Quirin,
317 U. S.
1 (1942)).” S. Rep. No. 486, 81st Cong., 1st Sess., 13
(1949).
Footnote 23
Whether or not the President has independent
power, absent congressional authorization, to convene military
commissions, he may not disregard limitations that Congress has, in
proper exercise of its own war powers, placed on his powers. See
Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v.
Sawyer,
343 U. S. 579,
637 (1952) (Jackson, J., concurring). The Government does not argue
otherwise.
Footnote 24
On this point, it is noteworthy that the
Court in
Ex parte Quirin,
317 U. S.
1 (1942), looked beyond Congress’ declaration of war and
accompanying authorization for use of force during World War II,
and relied instead on Article of War 15 to find that Congress had
authorized the use of military commissions in some circumstances.
See
id., at 26–29. Justice Thomas’ assertion that we
commit “error” in reading Article 21 of the UCMJ to place
limitations upon the President’s use of military commissions, see
post, at 5 (dissenting opinion), ignores the reasoning in
Quirin.
Footnote 25
The justification for, and limitations on,
these commissions were summarized in
Milligan:
“If, in foreign invasion or civil war, the
courts are actually closed, and it is impossible to administer
criminal justice according to law, then, on the theatre of
active military operations, where war really prevails, there is a
necessity to furnish a substitute for the civil authority, thus
overthrown, to preserve the safety of the army and society; and as
no power is left but the military, it is allowed to govern by
martial rule until the laws can have their free course. As
necessity creates the rule, so it limits its duration; for, if this
government is continued
after the courts are reinstated,
it is a gross usurpation of power. Martial rule can never exist
where the courts are open, and in the proper and unobstructed
exercise of their jurisdiction. It is also confined to the locality
of actual war.” 4 Wall., at 127 (emphases in original).
Footnote 26
The limitations on these occupied territory
or military government commissions are tailored to the tribunals’
purpose and the exigencies that necessitate their use. They may be
employed “pending the establishment of civil government,”
Madsen, 343 U. S., at 354–355, which may in some cases
extend beyond the “cessation of hostilities,”
id., at
348.
Footnote 27
So much may not be evident on cold review of
the Civil War trials often cited as precedent for this kind of
tribunal because the commissions established during that conflict
operated as both martial law or military government tribunals and
law-of-war commissions. Hence, “military commanders began the
practice [during the Civil War] of using the same name, the same
rules, and often the same tribunals” to try both ordinary crimes
and war crimes. Bickers, 34 Tex. Tech. L. Rev., at 908. “For
the first time, accused horse thieves and alleged saboteurs found
themselves subject to trial by the same military commission.”
Id., at 909. The Civil War precedents must therefore be
considered with caution; as we recognized in
Quirin, 317
U. S., at 29, and as further discussed below, commissions convened
during time of war but under neither martial law nor military
government may try only offenses against the law of war.
Footnote 28
If the commission is established pursuant to
martial law or military government, its jurisdiction extends to
offenses committed within “the exercise of military government or
martial law.” Winthrop 837.
Footnote 29
Winthrop adds as a fifth, albeit
not-always-complied-with, criterion that “the
trial must
be had within the theatre of war . . . ; that, if held elsewhere,
and where the civil courts are open and available, the proceedings
and sentence will be
coram non judice.”
Id., at
836. The Government does not assert that Guantanamo Bay is a
theater of war, but instead suggests that neither Washington,
D. C., in 1942 nor the Philippines in 1945 qualified as a “war
zone” either. Brief for Respondents 27; cf.
Quirin,
317 U. S.
1;
In re Yamashita, 327 U. S.
1 (1946).
Footnote 30
The elements of this conspiracy charge have
been defined not by Congress but by the President. See Military
Commission Instruction No. 2, 32 CFR §11.6 (2005).
Footnote 31
Justice Thomas would treat Osama bin Laden’s
1996 declaration of jihad against Americans as the inception of the
war. See
post, at 7–10 (dissenting opinion). But even the
Government does not go so far; although the United States had for
some time prior to the attacks of September 11, 2001, been
aggressively pursuing al Qaeda, neither in the charging document
nor in submissions before this Court has the Government asserted
that the President’s
war powers were activated prior to
September 11, 2001. Cf. Brief for Respondents 25 (describing the
events of September 11, 2001, as “an act of war” that “triggered a
right to deploy military forces abroad to defend the United States
by combating al Qaeda”). Justice Thomas’ further argument that the
AUMF is “backward looking” and therefore authorizes
trial by
military commission of crimes that occurred prior to the
inception of war is insupportable. See
post, at 8,
n. 3. If nothing else, Article 21 of the UCMJ requires that
the President comply with the law of war in his use of military
commissions. As explained in the text, the law of war permits trial
only of offenses “committed within the period of the war.” Winthrop
837; see also
Quirin, 317 U. S., at 28–29 (observing that
law-of-war military commissions may be used to try “those enemies
who in their attempt to thwart or impede our military
effort have violated the law of war” (emphasis added)). The
sources that Justice Thomas relies on to suggest otherwise simply
do not support his position. Colonel Green’s short exegesis on
military commissions cites Howland for the proposition that
“[o]ffenses committed before a
formal declaration of war
or
before the declaration of martial law may be tried by
military commission.” The Military Commission, 42 Am. J. Int’l L.
832, 848 (1948) (emphases added) (cited
post, at 9–10).
Assuming that to be true, nothing in our analysis turns on the
admitted absence of either a formal declaration of war or a
declaration of martial law. Our focus instead is on the September
11, 2001 attacks that the Government characterizes as the relevant
“act[s] of war,” and on the measure that authorized the President’s
deployment of military force—the AUMF. Because we do not question
the Government’s position that the war commenced with the events of
September 11, 2001, the
Prize Cases, 2 Black 635 (1863)
(cited
post, at 2, 7, 8, and 10 (Thomas, J., dissenting)),
are not germane to the analysis.
Finally, Justice Thomas’ assertion that Julius
Otto Kuehn’s trial by military commission “for conspiring with
Japanese officials to betray the United States fleet to the
Imperial Japanese Government prior to its attack on Pearl Harbor”
stands as authoritative precedent for Hamdan’s trial by commission,
post, at 9, misses the mark in three critical respects.
First, Kuehn was tried for the
federal espionage crimes
under what were then 50 U. S.C. §§31, 32, and 34,
not with
common-law violations of the law of war. See Hearings before the
Joint Committee on the Investigation of the Pearl Harbor Attack,
79th Cong., 1st Sess., pt. 30, pp. 3067–3069 (1946). Second, he was
tried by
martial law commission (a kind of commission
Justice Thomas acknowledges is not relevant to the analysis here,
and whose jurisdiction extends to offenses committed within “the
exercise of . . . martial law,” Winthrop 837, see
supra,
n. 28),
not a commission established exclusively to try
violations of the law of war. See
ibid. Third, the martial
law commissions established to try crimes in Hawaii were ultimately
declared illegal by this Court. See
Duncan v.
Kahanamoku, 327 U. S. 304, 324 (1946) (“The phrase
‘martial law’ as employed in [the Hawaiian Organic Act], while
intended to authorize the military to act vigorously for the
maintenance of an orderly civil government and for the defense of
the Islands against actual or threatened rebellion or invasion, was
not intended to authorize the supplanting of courts by military
tribunals”).
Footnote 32
Justice Thomas adopts the remarkable view,
not advocated by the Government, that the charging document in this
case actually includes more than one charge: Conspiracy
and several other ill-defined crimes, like “joining an
organization” that has a criminal purpose, “ ‘[b]eing a
guerilla,’ ” and aiding the enemy. See
post, at
16–21, and n. 9. There are innumerable problems with this
approach.
First, the crimes Justice Thomas identifies
were not actually charged. It is one thing to observe that charges
before a military commission “ ‘need not be stated with the
precision of a common law indictment,’ ”
post, at 15,
n. 7 (citation omitted); it is quite another to say that a
crime
not charged may nonetheless be read into an
indictment. Second, the Government plainly had available to it the
tools and the time it needed to charge petitioner with the various
crimes Justice Thomas refers to, if it believed they were supported
by the allegations. As Justice Thomas himself observes, see
post, at 21, the crime of aiding the enemy may, in
circumstances where the accused owes allegiance to the party whose
enemy he is alleged to have aided, be triable by military
commission pursuant to Article 104 of the UCMJ, 10 U. S. C. §904.
Indeed, the Government has charged detainees under this provision
when it has seen fit to do so. See Brief for David Hicks as
Amicus Curiae 7.
Third, the cases Justice Thomas relies on to
show that Hamdan may be guilty of violations of the law of war not
actually charged do not support his argument. Justice Thomas begins
by blurring the distinction between those categories of “offender”
who may be tried by military commission (
e.g., jayhawkers
and the like) with the “offenses” that may be so tried. Even when
it comes to “ ‘being a guerilla,’ ” cf.
post, at
18, n. 9 (citation omitted), a label alone does not render a
person susceptible to execution or other criminal punishment; the
charge of “ ‘being a guerilla’ ” invariably is
accompanied by the allegation that the defendant “ ‘took up
arms’ ” as such. This is because, as explained by Judge
Advocate General Holt in a decision upholding the charge of
“ ‘being a guerilla’ ” as one recognized by “the
universal usage of the times,” the charge is simply shorthand (akin
to “being a spy”) for “the perpetration of a succession of similar
acts” of violence. Record Books of the Judge Advocate General
Office, R. 3, 590. The sources cited by Justice Thomas confirm as
much. See cases cited
post, at 18, n. 9.
Likewise, the suggestion that the Nuremberg
precedents support Hamdan’s conviction for the (uncharged) crime of
joining a criminal organization must fail. Cf.
post, at
19–21. The convictions of certain high-level Nazi officials for
“membership in a criminal organization” were secured pursuant to
specific provisions of the Charter of the International Military
Tribunal that permitted indictment of individual organization
members following convictions of the organizations themselves. See
Arts. 9 and 10, in 1 Trial of the Major War Criminals Before the
International Military Tribunal 12 (1947). The initial plan to use
organizations’ convictions as predicates for mass individual trials
ultimately was abandoned. See T. Taylor, Anatomy of the Nuremberg
Trials: A Personal Memoir 584–585, 638 (1992).
Footnote 33
Cf. 10 U. S. C. §904 (making triable by
military commission the crime of aiding the enemy); §906 (same for
spying); War Crimes Act of 1996, 18 U. S. C. §2441 (2000 ed.
and Supp. III) (listing war crimes); Foreign Operations, Export
Financing, and Related Appropriations Act, 1998, §583, 111 Stat.
2436 (same).
Footnote 34
While the common law necessarily is
“evolutionary in nature,”
post, at 13 (Thomas, J.,
dissenting), even in jurisdictions where common law crimes are
still part of the penal framework, an act does not become a crime
without its foundations having been firmly established in
precedent. See,
e.g.,
R. v.
Rimmington,
[2006] 2 All E. R. 257, 275–279 (House of Lords);
id., at
279 (while “some degree of vagueness is inevitable and development
of the law is a recognised feature of common law courts, … the
law-making function of the courts must remain within reasonable
limits”); see also
Rogers v.
Tennessee, 532 U. S. 451, 472–478
(2001) (Scalia, J., dissenting). The caution that must be exercised
in the incremental development of common-law crimes by the
judiciary is, for the reasons explained in the text, all the more
critical when reviewing developments that stem from military
action.
Footnote 35
The 19th-century trial of the “Lincoln
conspirators,” even if properly classified as a trial by law-of-war
commission, cf. W. Rehnquist, All the Laws But One: Civil Liberties
in Wartime 165–167 (1998) (analyzing the conspiracy charges in
light of ordinary criminal law principles at the time), is at best
an equivocal exception. Although the charge against the defendants
in that case accused them of “combining, confederating, and
conspiring together” to murder the President, they were also
charged (as we read the indictment, cf.
post, at 23, n. 14
(Thomas, J., dissenting)) with “maliciously, unlawfully, and
traitorously murdering the said Abraham Lincoln.” H. R. Doc.
No. 314, 55th Cong., 1st Sess., 696 (1899). Moreover, the Attorney
General who wrote the opinion defending the trial by military
commission treated the charge as if it alleged the substantive
offense of assassination. See 11 Op. Atty. Gen. 297 (1865)
(analyzing the propriety of trying by military commission “the
offence of having assassinated the President”); see also
Mudd v.
Caldera, 134 F. Supp. 2d 138, 140
(DC 2001).
Footnote 36
By contrast, the Geneva Conventions do extend
liability for substantive war crimes to those who “orde[r]” their
commission, see Third Geneva Convention, Art. 129, 6 U. S. T., at
3418, and this Court has read the Fourth Hague Convention of 1907
to impose “command responsibility” on military commanders for acts
of their subordinates, see
Yamshita, 327 U. S., at
15–16.
Footnote 37
The other examples Justice Thomas offers are
no more availing. The Civil War indictment against Robert Louden,
cited
post, at 25, alleged a conspiracy, but not one in
violation of the law of war. See War Dept., General Court Martial
Order No. 41, p. 20 (1864). A separate charge of
“ ‘[t]ransgression of the laws and customs of war’ ” made
no mention of conspiracy.
Id., at 17. The charge against
Lenger Grenfel and others for conspiring to release rebel prisoners
held in Chicago only supports the observation, made in the text,
that the Civil War tribunals often charged hybrid crimes mixing
elements of crimes ordinarily triable in civilian courts (like
treason) and violations of the law of war. Judge Advocate General
Holt, in recommending that Grenfel’s death sentence be upheld (it
was in fact commuted by Presidential decree, see H. R. Doc.
No. 314, at 725), explained that the accused “united himself with
traitors and malefactors for the overthrow of our Republic in the
interest of slavery.”
Id., at 689.
Footnote 38
The Court in
Quirin “assume[d] that
there are acts regarded in other countries, or by some writers on
international law, as offenses against the law of war which would
not be triable by military tribunal here, either because they are
not recognized by our courts as violations of the law of war or
because they are of that class of offenses constitutionally triable
only by a jury.” 317 U. S., at 29. We need not test the validity of
that assumption here because the international sources only
corroborate the domestic ones.
Footnote 39
Accordingly, the Tribunal determined to
“disregard the charges … that the defendants conspired to
commit War Crimes and Crimes against Humanity.” 22 Trial of the
Major War Criminals Before the International Military Tribunal 469
(1947); see also
ibid. (“[T]he Charter does not define as
a separate crime any conspiracy except the one to commit acts of
aggressive war”).
Footnote 40
See also 15 United Nations War Crimes
Commissions, Law Reports of Trials of War Criminals 90–91 (1949)
(observing that, although a few individuals were charged with
conspiracy under European domestic criminal codes following World
War II, “the United States Military Tribunals” established at that
time did not “recognis[e] as a separate offence conspiracy to
commit war crimes or crimes against humanity”). The International
Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY), drawing on the
Nuremberg precedents, has adopted a “joint criminal enterprise”
theory of liability, but that is a species of liability for the
substantive offense (akin to aiding and abetting), not a crime on
its own. See
Prosecutor v.
Tadiæ, Judgment, Case
No. IT–94–1–A (ICTY App. Chamber, July 15, 1999); see also
Prosecutor v.
Milutinoviæ, Decision on Dragoljub
Ojdaniæ’s Motion Challenging Jurisdiction—Joint Criminal
Enterprise, Case No. IT–99–37–AR72, ¶26 (ICTY App. Chamber, May 21,
2003) (stating that “[c]riminal liability pursuant to a joint
criminal enterprise is not a liability for … conspiring to commit
crimes”).
Footnote 41
Justice Thomas’ suggestion that our
conclusion precludes the Government from bringing to justice those
who conspire to commit acts of terrorism is therefore wide of the
mark. See
post, at 8, n. 3; 28–30. That conspiracy is
not a violation of the law of war triable by military commission
does not mean the Government may not, for example, prosecute by
court-martial or in federal court those caught “plotting terrorist
atrocities like the bombing of the Khobar Towers.”
Post,
at 29.
Footnote 42
The accused also may be excluded from the
proceedings if he “engages in disruptive conduct.” §5(K).
Footnote 43
As the District Court observed, this section
apparently permits reception of testimony from a confidential
informant in circumstances where “Hamdan will not be permitted to
hear the testimony, see the witness’s face, or learn his name. If
the government has information developed by interrogation of
witnesses in Afghanistan or elsewhere, it can offer such evidence
in transcript form, or even as summaries of transcripts.” 344 F.
Supp. 2d 152, 168 (DC 2004).
Footnote 44
Any decision of the commission is not “final”
until the President renders it so. See Commission Order No. 1
§6(H)(6).
Footnote 45
See Winthrop 835, and n. 81 (“military
commissions are constituted and composed, and their proceedings are
conducted, similarly to general courts-martial”);
id., at
841–842; S. Rep. No. 130, 64th Cong., 1st Sess., 40 (1916)
(testimony of Gen. Crowder) (“Both classes of courts have the same
procedure”); see also,
e.g., H. Coppée, Field Manual of
Courts-Martial, p. 104 (1863) (“[Military] commissions are
appointed by the same authorities as those which may order
courts-martial. They are constituted in a manner similar to such
courts, and their proceedings are conducted in exactly the same
way, as to form, examination of witnesses, etc.”).
Footnote 46
The dissenters’ views are summarized in the
following passage:
“It is outside our basic scheme to condemn men
without giving reasonable opportunity for preparing defense; in
capital or other serious crimes to convict on ‘official documents
…; affidavits; … documents or translations thereof; diaries …,
photographs, motion picture films, and … newspapers” or on hearsay,
once, twice or thrice removed, more particularly when the
documentary evidence or some of it is prepared
ex parte by
the prosecuting authority and includes not only opinion but
conclusions of guilt. Nor in such cases do we deny the rights of
confrontation of witnesses and cross-examination.”
Yamashita, 327 U. S., at 44 (footnotes omitted).
Footnote 47
Article 2 of the UCMJ now reads:
“(a) The following persons are subject to [the
UCMJ]:
“(9) Prisoners of war in custody of the armed
forces.
“(12) Subject to any treaty or agreement to
which the United States is or may be a party or to any accepted
rule of international law, persons within an area leased by or
otherwise reserved or acquired for the use of the United States
which is under the control of the Secretary concerned and which is
outside the United States and outside the Commonwealth of Puerto
Rico, Guam, and the Virgin Islands.” 10 U. S. C. §802(a).
Guantanamo Bay is such a leased area. See
Rasul v.
Bush, 542 U. S. 466, 471 (2004).
Footnote 48
The International Committee of the Red Cross
is referred to by name in several provisions of the 1949 Geneva
Conventions and is the body that drafted and published the official
commentary to the Conventions. Though not binding law, the
commentary is, as the parties recognize, relevant in interpreting
the Conventions’ provisions.
Footnote 49
Aside from Articles 21 and 36, discussed at
length in the text, the other seven Articles that expressly
reference military commissions are: (1) 28 (requiring appointment
of reporters and interpreters); (2) 47 (making it a crime to refuse
to appear or testify “before a court-martial, military commission,
court of inquiry, or any other military court or board”); (3) 48
(allowing a “court-martial, provost court, or military commission”
to punish a person for contempt); (4) 49(d) (permitting admission
into evidence of a “duly authenticated deposition taken upon
reasonable notice to the other parties”
only if
“admissible under the rules of evidence” and
only if the
witness is otherwise unavailable); (5) 50 (permitting admission
into evidence of records of courts of inquiry “if otherwise
admissible under the rules of evidence,” and if certain other
requirements are met); (6) 104 (providing that a person accused of
aiding the enemy may be sentenced to death or other punishment by
military commission or court-martial); and (7) 106 (mandating the
death penalty for spies convicted before military commission or
court-martial).
Footnote 50
Justice Thomas relies on the legislative
history of the UCMJ to argue that Congress’ adoption of Article
36(b) in the wake of World War II was “motivated” solely by a
desire for “uniformity across the separate branches of the armed
services.”
Post, at 35. But even if Congress was concerned
with ensuring uniformity across service branches, that does not
mean it did not also intend to codify the longstanding practice of
procedural parity between courts-martial and other military
tribunals. Indeed, the suggestion that Congress did
not
intend uniformity across tribunal types is belied by the textual
proximity of subsection (a) (which requires that the rules
governing criminal trials in federal district courts apply, absent
the President’s determination of impracticability, to
courts-martial, provost courts, and
military commissions
alike) and subsection (b) (which imposes the uniformity
requirement).
Footnote 51
We may assume that such a determination would
be entitled to a measure of deference. For the reasons given by
Justice Kennedy, see
post, at 5 (opinion concurring in
part), however, the level of deference accorded to a determination
made under subsection (b) presum- ably would not be as high as that
accorded to a determination under subsection (a).
Footnote 52
Justice Thomas looks not to the President’s
official Article 36(a) determination, but instead to press
statements made by the Secretary of Defense and the Under Secretary
of Defense for Policy. See
post, at 36–38 (dissenting
opinion). We have not heretofore, in evaluating the legality of
Executive action, deferred to comments made by such officials to
the media. Moreover, the only additional reason the comments
provide—aside from the general danger posed by international
terrorism—for departures from court-martial procedures is the need
to protect classified information. As we explain in the text, and
as Justice Kennedy elaborates in his separate opinion, the
structural and procedural defects of Hamdan’s commission extend far
beyond rules preventing access to classified information.
Footnote 53
Justice Thomas relies extensively on
Madsen for the proposition that the President has free
rein to set the procedures that govern military commissions. See
post, at 30, 31, 33, n. 16, 34, and 45. That reliance
is misplaced. Not only did
Madsen not involve a law-of-war
military commission, but (1) the petitioner there did not challenge
the procedures used to try her, (2) the UCMJ, with its new Article
36(b), did not become effective until May 31, 1951,
after
the petitioner’s trial, see 343 U. S., at 345, n. 6, and (3)
the procedures used to try the petitioner actually afforded
more protection than those used in courts-martial, see
id., at 358–360; see also
id., at 358 (“[T]he
Military Government Courts for Germany . . . have had a less
military character than that of courts-martial”).
Footnote 54
Prior to the enactment of Article 36(b), it
may well have been the case that a deviation from the rules
governing courts-martial would not have rendered the military
commission “ ‘
illegal.’ ”
Post, at
30–31, n. 16 (Thomas, J., dissenting) (quoting Winthrop 841).
Article 36(b), however, imposes a statutory command that must be
heeded.
Footnote 55
Justice Thomas makes the different argument
that Hamdan’s Geneva Convention challenge is not yet “ripe” because
he has yet to be sentenced. See
post, at 43–45. This is
really just a species of the abstention argument we have already
rejected. See Part III,
supra. The text of the Geneva
Conventions does not direct an accused to wait until sentence is
imposed to challenge the legality of the tribunal that is to try
him.
Footnote 56
As explained in Part VI–C,
supra,
that is no longer true under the 1949 Conventions.
Footnote 57
But see,
e.g., 4 Int’l Comm. of Red
Cross, Commentary: Geneva Convention Relative to the Protection of
Civilian Persons in Time of War 21 (1958) (hereinafter GCIV
Commentary) (the 1949 Geneva Conventions were written “first and
foremost to protect individuals, and not to serve State
interests”); GCIII Commentary 91 (“It was not … until the
Conventions of 1949 … that the existence of ‘rights’ conferred in
prisoners of war was affirmed”).
Footnote 58
But see generally Brief for Louis Henkin
et al. as
Amici Curiae; 1 Int’l Comm. for the Red
Cross, Commentary: Geneva Convention for the Amelioration of the
Condition of the Wounded and Sick in Armed Forces in the Field 84
(1952) (“It should be possible in States which are parties to the
Convention … for the rules of the Convention to be evoked before an
appropriate national court by the protected person who has suffered
a violation”); GCII Commentary 92; GCIV Commentary 79.
Footnote 59
For convenience’s sake, we use citations to
the Third Geneva Convention only.
Footnote 60
The President has stated that the conflict
with the Taliban is a conflict to which the Geneva Conventions
apply. See White House Memorandum, Humane Treatment of Taliban and
al Qaeda Detainees 2 (Feb. 7, 2002), available at
http://www.justicescholars.org/pegc/archive/
White_House/bush_memo_20020207_ed.pdf (hereinafter White House
Memorandum).
Footnote 61
Hamdan observes that Article 5 of the Third
Geneva Convention requires that if there be “any doubt” whether he
is entitled to prisoner-of-war protections, he must be afforded
those protections until his status is determined by a “competent
tribunal.” 6 U. S. T., at 3324. See also Headquarters Depts. of
Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marine Corps, Army Regulation 190–8,
Enemy Prisoners of War, Retained Personnel, Civilian Internees and
Other Detainees (1997), App. 116. Because we hold that Hamdan may
not, in any event, be tried by the military commission the
President has convened pursuant to the November 13 Order and
Commission Order No. 1, the question whether his potential status
as a prisoner of war independently renders illegal his trial by
military commission may be reserved.
Footnote 62
The term “Party” here has the broadest
possible meaning; a Party need neither be a signatory of the
Convention nor “even represent a legal entity capable of
undertaking international obligations.” GCIII Commentary 37.
Footnote 63
See also GCIII Commentary 35 (Common Article
3 “has the merit of being simple and clear… . Its observance
does not depend upon preliminary discussions on the nature of the
conflict”); GCIV Commentary 51 (“[N]obody in enemy hands can be
outside the law”); U. S. Army Judge Advocate General’s Legal Center
and School, Dept. of the Army, Law of War Handbook 144 (2004)
(Common Article 3 “serves as a ‘minimum yardstick of protection in
all conflicts, not just internal armed conflicts’ ” (quoting
Nicaragua v.
United States, 1986
I. C. J. 14, ¶218, 25 I. L. M. 1023));
Prosecutor v.
Tadiæ, Case No. IT–94–1, Decision
on the Defence Motion for Interlocutory Appeal on Jurisdiction,
¶102 (ICTY App. Chamber, Oct. 2, 1995) (stating that “the character
of the conflict is irrelevant” in deciding whether Common Article 3
applies).
Footnote 64
The commentary’s assumption that the terms
“properly constituted” and “regularly constituted” are
interchangeable is beyond reproach; the French version of Article
66, which is equally authoritative, uses the term “régulièrement
constitués” in place of “properly constituted.”
Footnote 65
Further evidence of this tribunal’s irregular
constitution is the fact that its rules and procedures are subject
to change midtrial, at the whim of the Executive. See Commission
Order No. 1, §11 (providing that the Secretary of Defense may
change the governing rules “from time to time”).
Footnote 66
Other international instruments to which the
United States is a signatory include the same basic protections set
forth in Article 75. See,
e.g., International Covenant on
Civil and Political Rights, Art. 14, ¶3(
d), Mar. 23, 1976,
999 U. N. T. S. 171 (setting forth the right of an accused “[t]o be
tried in his presence, and to defend himself in person or through
legal assistance of his own choosing”). Following World War II,
several defendants were tried and convicted by military commission
for violations of the law of war in their failure to afford
captives fair trials before imposition and execution of sentence.
In two such trials, the prosecutors argued that the defendants’
failure to apprise accused individuals of all evidence against them
constituted violations of the law of war. See 5 U. N. War Crimes
Commission 30 (trial of Sergeant-Major Shigeru Ohashi), 75 (trial
of General Tanaka Hisakasu).
Footnote 67
The Government offers no defense of these
procedures other than to observe that the defendant may not be
barred from access to evidence if such action would deprive him of
a “full and fair trial.” Commission Order No. 1, §6(D)(5)(b). But
the Government suggests no circumstances in which it would be
“fair” to convict the accused based on evidence he has not seen or
heard. Cf.
Crawford v.
Washington, 541 U. S. 36, 49 (2004)
(“ ‘It is a rule of the common law, founded on natural
justice, that no man shall be prejudiced by evidence which he had
not the liberty to cross examine’ ” (quoting
State v.
Webb, 2 N. C. 103, 104 (Super. L. & Eq. 1794)
(per curiam));
Diaz v.
United States,
223 U. S. 442,
455 (1912) (describing the right to be present as “scarcely less
important to the accused than the right of trial itself”);
Lewis v.
United States, 146 U. S. 370, 372
(1892) (exclusion of defendant from part of proceedings is
“contrary to the dictates of humanity” (internal quotation marks
omitted));
Joint Anti&nbhyph;Fascist Refugee Comm. v.
McGrath, 341 U. S. 123, 170,
n. 17, 171 (1951) (Frankfurter, J., concurring) (“[t]he plea
that evidence of guilt must be secret is abhorrent to free men”
(internal quotation marks omitted)). More fundamentally, the
legality of a tribunal under Common Article 3 cannot be established
by bare assurances that, whatever the character of the court or the
procedures it follows, individual adjudicators will act fairly.
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