OPINION OF THE COURT
SOSA V. ALVAREZ-MACHAIN
542 U. S. ____ (2004)
SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES
NOS. 03-339 AND 03-485
JOSE FRANCISCO SOSA, PETITIONER
03–339
v.
HUMBERTO ALVAREZ-MACHAIN et al.
UNITED STATES, PETITIONER
03–485 v.
HUMBERTO ALVAREZ-MACHAIN et al.
on writs of certiorari to the united states
court of appeals for the ninth circuit
[June 29, 2004]
Justice Souter delivered
the opinion of the Court.
The two issues are whether
respondent Alvarez-Machain’s allegation that the Drug Enforcement
Administration instigated his abduction from Mexico for criminal
trial in the United States supports a claim against the Government
under the Federal Tort Claims Act (FTCA or Act), 28 U. S. C.
§1346(b)(1), §§2671–2680, and whether he may recover under the
Alien Tort Statute (ATS), 28 U. S. C. §1350. We hold that he
is not entitled to a remedy under either statute.
I
We have considered the underlying
facts before,
United States v.
Alvarez-Machain, 504 U. S. 655 (1992). In
1985, an agent of the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA),
Enrique Camarena-Salazar, was captured on assignment in Mexico and
taken to a house in Guadalajara, where he was tortured over the
course of a 2-day interrogation, then murdered. Based in part on
eyewitness testimony, DEA officials in the United States came to
believe that respondent Humberto Alvarez-Machain (Alvarez), a
Mexican physician, was present at the house and acted to prolong
the agent’s life in order to extend the interrogation and torture.
Id., at 657.
In 1990, a federal grand jury
indicted Alvarez for the torture and murder of Camarena-Salazar,
and the United States District Court for the Central District of
California issued a warrant for his arrest. 331 F. 3d 604, 609
(CA9 2003) (en banc). The DEA asked the Mexican Government for help
in getting Alvarez into the United States, but when the requests
and negotiations proved fruitless, the DEA approved a plan to hire
Mexican nationals to seize Alvarez and bring him to the United
States for trial. As so planned, a group of Mexicans, including
petitioner Jose Francisco Sosa, abducted Alvarez from his house,
held him overnight in a motel, and brought him by private plane to
El Paso, Texas, where he was arrested by federal officers.
Ibid.
Once in American custody, Alvarez moved to
dismiss the indictment on the ground that his seizure was
“outrageous governmental conduct,”
Alvarez-Machain, 504 U.
S., at 658, and violated the extradition treaty between the United
States and Mexico. The District Court agreed, the Ninth Circuit
affirmed, and we reversed,
id., at 670, holding that the
fact of Alvarez’s forcible seizure did not affect the jurisdiction
of a federal court. The case was tried in 1992, and ended at the
close of the Government’s case, when the District Court granted
Alvarez’s motion for a judgment of acquittal.
In 1993, after returning to Mexico, Alvarez
began the civil action before us here. He sued Sosa, Mexican
citizen and DEA operative Antonio Garate-Bustamante, five unnamed
Mexican civilians, the United States, and four DEA agents. 331
F. 3d, at 610. So far as it matters here, Alvarez sought
damages from the United States under the FTCA, alleging false
arrest, and from Sosa under the ATS, for a violation of the law of
nations. The former statute authorizes suit “for … personal injury
… caused by the negligent or wrongful act or omission of any
employee of the Government while acting within the scope of his
office or employment.” 28 U. S. C. §1346(b)(1). The latter
provides in its entirety that “[t]he district courts shall have
original jurisdiction of any civil action by an alien for a tort
only, committed in violation of the law of nations or a treaty of
the United States.” §1350.
The District Court granted the Government’s
motion to dismiss the FTCA claim, but awarded summary judgment and
$25,000 in damages to Alvarez on the ATS claim. A three-judge panel
of the Ninth Circuit then affirmed the ATS judgment, but reversed
the dismissal of the FTCA claim. 266 F. 3d 1045 (2001).
A divided en banc court came to the same
conclusion. 331 F. 3d, at 641. As for the ATS claim, the court
called on its own precedent, “that [the ATS] not only provides
federal courts with subject matter jurisdiction, but also creates a
cause of action for an alleged violation of the law of nations.”
Id., at 612. The Circuit then relied upon what it called
the “clear and universally recognized norm prohibiting arbitrary
arrest and detention,”
id., at 620, to support the
conclusion that Alvarez’s arrest amounted to a tort in violation of
international law. On the FTCA claim, the Ninth Circuit held that,
because “the DEA had no authority to effect Alvarez’s arrest and
detention in Mexico,”
id., at 608, the United States was
liable to him under California law for the tort of false arrest,
id., at 640–641.
We granted certiorari in these companion cases
to clarify the scope of both the FTCA and the ATS.
540 U. S. 1045 (2003).
We now reverse in each.
II
The Government seeks reversal of
the judgment of liability under the FTCA on two principal grounds.
It argues that the arrest could not have been tortious, because it
was authorized by 21 U. S. C. §878, setting out the arrest
authority of the DEA, and it says that in any event the liability
asserted here falls within the FTCA exception to waiver of
sovereign immunity for claims “arising in a foreign country,” 28 U.
S. C. §2680(k). We think the exception applies and decide on
that ground.
A
The FTCA “was designed primarily
to remove the sovereign immunity of the United States from suits in
tort and, with certain specific exceptions, to render the
Government liable in tort as a private individual would be under
like circumstances.”
Richards v.
United States,
369 U. S. 1, 6 (1962); see also 28 U.
S. C. §2674. The Act accordingly gives federal district courts
jurisdiction over claims against the United States for injury
“caused by the negligent or wrongful act or omission of any
employee of the Government while acting within the scope of his
office or employment, under circumstances where the United States,
if a private person, would be liable to the claimant in accordance
with the law of the place where the act or omission occurred.”
§1346(b)(1). But the Act also limits its waiver of sovereign
immunity in a number of ways. See §2680 (no waiver as to,
e.g., “[a]ny claim arising out of the loss, miscarriage,
or negligent transmission of letters or postal matter,” “[a]ny
claim for damages caused by the imposition or establishment of a
quarantine by the United States,” or “[a]ny claim arising from the
activities of the Panama Canal Company”).
Here the significant limitation
on the waiver of immunity is the Act’s exception for “[a]ny claim
arising in a foreign country,” §2680(k), a provision that on its
face seems plainly applicable to the facts of this case. In the
Ninth Circuit’s view, once Alvarez was within the borders of the
United States, his detention was not tortious, see 331 F. 3d,
at 636–637; the appellate court suggested that the Government’s
liability to Alvarez rested solely upon a false arrest claim.
Id., at 640–641. Alvarez’s arrest, however, was said to be
“false,” and thus tortious, only because, and only to the extent
that, it took place and endured in Mexico.[
Footnote 1] The actions in Mexico are thus most
naturally understood as the kernel of a “claim arising in a foreign
country,” and barred from suit under the exception to the waiver of
immunity.
Notwithstanding the straightforward language
of the foreign country exception, the Ninth Circuit allowed the
action to proceed under what has come to be known as the
“headquarters doctrine.” Some Courts of Appeals, reasoning that
“[t]he entire scheme of the FTCA focuses on the place where the
negligent or wrongful act or omission of the government employee
occurred,”
Sami v.
United States, 617 F. 2d
755, 761 (CADC 1979), have concluded that the foreign country
exception does not exempt the United States from suit “for acts or
omissions occurring here which have their operative effect in
another country.”
Id., at 762 (refusing to apply §2680(k)
where a communiqué sent from the United States by a federal law
enforcement officer resulted in plaintiff’s wrongful detention in
Germany).[
Footnote 2]
Headquarters claims “typically involve allegations of negligent
guidance in an office within the United States of employees who
cause damage while in a foreign country, or of activities which
take place within a foreign country.”
Cominotto v.
United States, 802 F. 2d 1127, 1130 (CA9 1986). In
such instances, these courts have concluded that §2680(k) does not
bar suit.
The reasoning of the Ninth Circuit here was
that, since Alvarez’s abduction in Mexico was the direct result of
wrongful acts of planning and direction by DEA agents located in
California, “Alvarez’s abduction fits the headquarters doctrine
like a glove.” 331 F. 3d, at 638.
“Working out of DEA offices in Los Angeles, [DEA
agents] made the decision to kidnap Alvarez and … gave [their
Mexican intermediary] precise instructions on whom to recruit, how
to seize Alvarez, and how he should be treated during the trip to
the United States. DEA officials in Washington, D. C.,
approved the details of the operation. After Alvarez was abducted
according to plan, DEA agents supervised his transportation into
the United States, telling the arrest team where to land the plane
and obtaining clearance in El Paso for landing. The United States,
and California in particular, served as command central for the
operation carried out in Mexico.”
Id., at 638–639.
Thus, the Ninth Circuit held that Alvarez’s claim
did not “aris[e] in” a foreign country.
The potential effect of this sort of
headquarters analysis flashes the yellow caution light. “[I]t will
virtually always be possible to assert that the negligent activity
that injured the plaintiff [abroad] was the consequence of faulty
training, selection or supervision—or even less than that, lack of
careful training, selection or supervision—in the United States.”
Beattie v.
United States, 756 F. 2d 91, 119
(CADC 1984) (Scalia, J., dissenting). Legal malpractice claims,
Knisley v.
United States, 817 F. Supp. 680,
691– 693 (SD Ohio 1993), allegations of negligent medical care,
Newborn v.
United States, 238 F. Supp. 2d
145, 148–149 (DC 2002), and even slip-and-fall cases,
Eaglin v.
United States,
Dept. of Army,
794 F. 2d 981, 983–984 (CA5 1986), can all be repackaged as
headquarters claims based on a failure to train, a failure to warn,
the offering of bad advice, or the adoption of a negligent policy.
If we were to approve the headquarters exception to the foreign
country exception, the “ ‘headquarters claim’ [would] become a
standard part of FTCA litigation” in cases potentially implicating
the foreign country exception.
Beattie,
supra, at
119 (Scalia, J., dissenting). The headquarters doctrine threatens
to swallow the foreign country exception whole, certainly at the
pleadings stage.
The need for skepticism is borne out by two
considerations. One of them is pertinent to cases like this one,
where harm was arguably caused both by individual action in a
foreign country as well as by planning in the United States; the
other is suggested simply because the harm occurred on foreign
soil.
B
Although not every headquarters
case is rested on an explicit analysis of proximate causation, this
notion of cause is necessary to connect the domestic breach of duty
(at headquarters) with the action in the foreign country (in a case
like this) producing the foreign harm or injury. It is necessary,
in other words, to conclude that the act or omission at home
headquarters was sufficiently close to the ultimate injury, and
sufficiently important in producing it, to make it reasonable to
follow liability back to the headquarters behavior. Only in this
way could the behavior at headquarters properly be seen as the act
or omission on which all FTCA liability must rest under §2675. See,
e.g.,
Cominotto,
supra, at 1130 (“[A]
headquarters claim exists where negligent acts in the United States
proximately cause harm in a foreign country”);
Eaglin,
supra, at 983 (noting that headquarters cases require “a
plausible proximate nexus or connection between acts or omissions
in the United States and the resulting damage or injury in a
foreign country”).
Recognizing this connection of
proximate cause between domestic behavior and foreign harm or
injury is not, however, sufficient of itself to bar application of
the foreign country exception to a claim resting on that same
foreign consequence. Proximate cause is causation substantial
enough and close enough to the harm to be recognized by law, but a
given proximate cause need not be, and frequently is not, the
exclusive proximate cause of harm. See,
e.g., 57A Am. Jur.
2d §529 (2004) (discussing proper jury instructions in cases
involving multiple proximate causes);
Beattie,
supra, at 121 (Scalia, J., dissenting) (“[I]n the ordinary
case there may be
several points along the chain of
causality” pertinent to the enquiry). Here, for example, assuming
that the direction by DEA officials in California was a proximate
cause of the abduction, the actions of Sosa and others in Mexico
were just as surely proximate causes, as well. Thus, understanding
that California planning was a legal cause of the harm in no way
eliminates the conclusion that the claim here arose from harm
proximately caused by acts in Mexico. At most, recognition of
additional domestic causation under the headquarters doctrine
leaves an open question whether the exception applies to the
claim.
C
Not only does domestic proximate
causation under the headquarters doctrine fail to eliminate
application of the foreign country exception, but there is good
reason to think that Congress understood a claim “arising in” a
foreign country in such a way as to bar application of the
headquarters doctrine. There is good reason, that is, to conclude
that Congress understood a claim “arising in a foreign country” to
be a claim for injury or harm occurring in a foreign country. 28 U.
S. C. §2680(k). This sense of “arising in” was the common
usage in state borrowing statutes contemporary with the Act, which
operated to determine which State’s statute of limitations should
apply in cases involving transjurisdictional facts. When the FTCA
was passed, the general rule, as set out in various state statutes,
was that “a cause of action arising in another jurisdiction, which
is barred by the laws of that jurisdiction, will [also] be barred
in the domestic courts.” 41 A. L. R. 4th 1025, 1029, §2
(1985). These borrowing statutes were typically restricted by
express terms to situations where a cause of action was time barred
in the State
“where [the] cause of action arose, or
accrued, or originated.” 75 A. L. R. 203, 211 (1931)
(emphasis in original). Critically for present purposes, these
variations on the theme of “arising in” were interpreted in tort
cases in just the same way that we read the FTCA today. A
commentator noted in 1962 that, for the purposes of these borrowing
statutes, “[t]he courts unanimously hold that a cause of action
sounding in tort arises in the jurisdiction where the last act
necessary to establish liability occurred”;
i.e., “the
jurisdiction in which injury was received.” Ester, Borrowing
Statutes of Limitation and Conflict of Laws, 15 U. Fla.
L. Rev. 33, 47.
There is, moreover, specific
reason to believe that using “arising in” as referring to place of
harm was central to the object of the foreign country exception.
Any tort action in a court of the United States based on the acts
of a Government employee causing harm outside the State of the
district court in which the action is filed requires a
determination of the source of the substantive law that will govern
liability. When the FTCA was passed, the dominant principle in
choice of law analysis for tort cases was
lex loci
delicti: courts generally applied the law of the place where
the injury occurred. See
Richards v.
United
States, 369 U. S., at 11–12 (“The general conflict-of-laws
rule, followed by a vast majority of the States, is to apply the
law of the place of injury to the substantive rights of the
parties” (footnote omitted)); see also Restatement (First) of
Conflict of Laws §379 (1934) (defendant’s liability determined by
“the law of the place of wrong”);[
Footnote 3]
id., §377, Note 1 (place of wrong for
torts involving bodily harm is
“the place where the harmful
force takes effect upon the body” (emphasis
in original));
ibid. (same principle for torts of fraud
and torts involving harm to property).[
Footnote 4] For a plaintiff injured in a foreign country,
then, the presumptive choice in American courts under the
traditional rule would have been to apply foreign law to determine
the tortfeasor’s liability. See,
e.g.,
Day &
Zimmermann, Inc. v.
Challoner, 423 U. S. 3 (1975)
(per curiam) (noting that Texas would apply Cambodian law
to wrongful-death action involving explosion in Cambodia of an
artillery round manufactured in United States);
Thomas v.
FMC Corp., 610 F. Supp. 912 (MD Ala. 1985) (applying
German law to determine American manufacturer’s liability for
negligently designing and manufacturing a Howitzer that killed
decedent in Germany);
Quandt v.
Beech Aircraft
Corp., 317 F. Supp. 1009 (Del. 1970) (noting that Italian
law applies to allegations of negligent manufacture in Kansas that
resulted in an airplane crash in Italy);
Manos v.
Trans World Airlines, 295 F. Supp. 1170 (ND Ill.
1969) (applying Italian law to determine American corporation’s
liability for negligent manufacture of a plane that crashed in
Italy); see also,
e.g.,
Dallas v.
Whitney, 118 W. Va. 106, 188 S. E. 766 (1936)
(Ohio law applied where blasting operations on a West Virginia
highway caused property damage in Ohio);
Cameron v.
Vandergriff, 53 Ark. 381, 13 S. W. 1092 (1890)
(Arkansas law applied where a blasting of a rock in Indian
territory inflicted injury on plaintiff in Arkansas).
The application of foreign substantive law
exemplified in these cases was, however, what Congress intended to
avoid by the foreign country exception. In 1942, the House
Committee on the Judiciary considered an early draft of the FTCA
that would have exempted all claims “arising in a foreign country
in behalf of an alien.” H. R. 5373, 77th Cong., 2d Sess.,
§303(12). The bill was then revised, at the suggestion of the
Attorney General, to omit the last five words. In explaining the
amendment to the House Committee on the Judiciary, Assistant
Attorney General Shea said that
“[c]laims arising in a foreign country have been
exempted from this bill, H. R. 6463, whether or not the
claimant is an alien. Since liability is to be determined by the
law of the situs of the wrongful act or omission it is wise to
restrict the bill to claims arising in this country. This seems
desirable because the law of the particular State is being applied.
Otherwise, it will lead I think to a good deal of difficulty.”
Hearings on H. R. 5373 et al. before the House Committee
on the Judiciary, 77th Cong., 2d Sess., 35 (1942).
The amended version, which was enacted into law and
constitutes the current text of the foreign country exception, 28
U. S. C. §2680(k), thus codified Congress’s “unwilling[ness]
to subject the United States to liabilities depending upon the laws
of a foreign power.”
United States v.
Spelar,
338 U. S. 217,
221 (1949). See also
Sami v.
United States, 617
F. 2d, at 762 (noting
Spelar’s explanation but
attempting to recast the object behind the foreign country
exception);
Leaf v.
United States, 588 F. 2d
733, 736, n. 3 (CA9 1978).
The object being to avoid application of
substantive foreign law, Congress evidently used the modifier
“arising in a foreign country” to refer to claims based on foreign
harm or injury, the fact that would trigger application of foreign
law to determine liability. That object, addressed by the quoted
phrase, would obviously have been thwarted, however, by applying
the headquarters doctrine, for that doctrine would have displaced
the exception by recasting claims of foreign injury as claims not
arising in a foreign country because some planning or negligence at
domestic headquarters was their cause.[
Footnote 5] And that, in turn, would have resulted in
applying foreign law of the place of injury, in accordance with the
choice-of-law rule of the headquarters jurisdiction.
Nor, as a practical matter, can it be said
that the headquarters doctrine has outgrown its tension with the
exception. It is true that the traditional approach to choice of
substantive tort law has lost favor, Simson, The Choice-of-Law
Revolution in the United States: Notes on Rereading Von Mehren, 36
Cornell Int’l L. J. 125, 125 (2003) (“The traditional
methodology of place of wrong … has receded in importance, and new
approaches and concepts such as governmental interest analysis,
most significant relationship, and better rule of law have taken
center stage” (footnotes omitted)).[
Footnote 6] But a good many States still employ
essentially the same choice of law analysis in tort cases that the
First Restatement exemplified. Symeonides, Choice of Law in the
American Courts, 51 Am. J. Comp. L. 1, 4–5 (2003) (“Ten states
continue to adhere to the traditional method in tort conflicts”);
see,
e.g., Raskin v.
Allison, 30 Kan. App. 2d
1240, 1242, 1241, 57 P. 3d 30, 32 (2002) (under “traditional
choice of law principles largely reflected in the original
Restatement,” Mexican law applied to boating accident in Mexican
waters because “the injuries were sustained in Mexican
waters”).
Equally to the point is that in at least some
cases that the Court of Appeals’s approach would treat as arising
at headquarters, not the foreign country, even the later
methodologies of choice point to the application of foreign law.
The Second Restatement itself, encouraging the general shift
towards using flexible balancing analysis to inform choice of
law,[
Footnote 7] includes a
default rule for tort cases rooted in the traditional approach:
“[i]n an action for a personal injury, the local law of the state
where the injury occurred determines the rights and liabilities of
the parties, unless … some other state has a more significant
relationship … to the occurrence and the parties.” Restatement
(Second) of Conflict of Laws §146 (1969); see also
id.,
Comment
e (“On occasion, conduct and personal injury will
occur in different states. In such instances, the local law of the
state of injury will usually be applied to determine most issues
involving the tort”). In practice, then, the new dispensation
frequently leads to the traditional application of the law of the
jurisdiction of injury. See,
e.g.,
Dorman v.
Emerson Elec. Co., 23 F. 3d 1354 (CA8 1994) (applying
Canadian law where negligent saw design in Missouri caused injury
in Canada);
Bing v.
Halstead, 495 F. Supp.
517 (SDNY 1980) (applying Costa Rican law where letter written and
mailed in Arizona caused mental distress in Costa Rica);
McKinnon v.
F. H. Morgan & Co., 170 Vt.
422, 750 A. 2d 1026 (2000) (applying Canadian law where a
defective bicycle sold in Vermont caused injuries in Quebec).
In sum, current flexibility in choice of law
methodology gives no assurance against applying foreign substantive
law if federal courts follow headquarters doctrine to assume
jurisdiction over tort claims against the Government for foreign
harm. Based on the experience just noted, the expectation is that
application of the headquarters doctrine would in fact result in a
substantial number of cases applying the very foreign law the
foreign country exception was meant to avoid.[
Footnote 8]
Before concluding that headquarters analysis
should have no part in applying the foreign country exception,
however, a word is needed to answer an argument for selective
application of headquarters doctrine, that it ought to be permitted
when a State’s choice of law approach would not apply the foreign
law of place of injury. See
In re “Agent Orange” Product
Liability Litigation, 580 F. Supp. 1242, 1254 (EDNY 1984)
(noting that the purpose of the exception did not apply to the
litigation at hand because foreign law was not implicated). The
point would be well taken, of course, if Congress had written the
exception to apply when foreign law would be applied. But that is
not what Congress said. Its provision of an exception when a claim
arises in a foreign country was written at a time when the phrase
“arising in” was used in state statutes to express the position
that a claim arises where the harm occurs; and the odds are that
Congress meant simply this when it used the “arising in”
language.[
Footnote 9] Finally,
even if it were not a stretch to equate “arising in a foreign
country” with “implicating foreign law,” the result of accepting
headquarters analysis for foreign injury cases in which no
application of foreign law would ensue would be a scheme of federal
jurisdiction that would vary from State to State, benefiting or
penalizing plaintiffs accordingly. The idea that Congress would
have intended any such jurisdictional variety is too implausible to
drive the analysis to the point of grafting even a selective
headquarters exception onto the foreign country exception itself.
We therefore hold that the FTCA’s foreign country exception bars
all claims based on any injury suffered in a foreign country,
regardless of where the tortious act or omission occurred.
III
Alvarez has also brought an
action under the ATS against petitioner, Sosa, who argues (as does
the United States supporting him) that there is no relief under the
ATS because the statute does no more than vest federal courts with
jurisdiction, neither creating nor authorizing the courts to
recognize any particular right of action without further
congressional action. Although we agree the statute is in terms
only jurisdictional, we think that at the time of enactment the
jurisdiction enabled federal courts to hear claims in a very
limited category defined by the law of nations and recognized at
common law. We do not believe, however, that the limited, implicit
sanction to entertain the handful of international law
cum
common law claims understood in 1789 should be taken as authority
to recognize the right of action asserted by Alvarez here.
A
Judge Friendly called the ATS a
“legal Lohengrin,”
IIT v.
Vencap, Ltd., 519 F.2d
1001, 1015 (CA2 1975); “no one seems to know whence it came,”
ibid., and for over 170 years after its enactment it
provided jurisdiction in only one case. The first Congress passed
it as part of the Judiciary Act of 1789, in providing that the new
federal district courts “shall also have cognizance, concurrent
with the courts of the several States, or the circuit courts, as
the case may be, of all causes where an alien sues for a tort only
in violation of the law of nations or a treaty of the United
States.” Act of Sept. 24, 1789, ch. 20, §9
(b), 1
Stat. 79.[
Footnote 10]
The parties and
amici
here advance radically different historical interpretations of this
terse provision. Alvarez says that the ATS was intended not simply
as a jurisdictional grant, but as authority for the creation of a
new cause of action for torts in violation of international law. We
think that reading is implausible. As enacted in 1789, the ATS gave
the district courts “cognizance” of certain causes of action, and
the term bespoke a grant of jurisdiction, not power to mold
substantive law. See,
e.g., The Federalist No. 81,
pp. 447, 451 (J. Cooke ed. 1961) (A. Hamilton) (using
“jurisdiction” interchangeably with “cognizance”). The fact that
the ATS was placed in §9 of the Judiciary Act, a statute otherwise
exclusively concerned with federal-court jurisdiction, is itself
support for its strictly jurisdictional nature. Nor would the
distinction between jurisdiction and cause of action have been
elided by the drafters of the Act or those who voted on it. As
Fisher Ames put it, “there is a substantial difference between the
jurisdiction of courts and rules of decision.” 1 Annals of Cong.
807 (Gales ed. 1834). It is unsurprising, then, that an authority
on the historical origins of the ATS has written that “section 1350
clearly does not create a statutory cause of action,” and that the
contrary suggestion is “simply frivolous.” Casto, The Federal
Courts’ Protective Jurisdiction Over Torts Committed in Violation
of the Law of Nations, 18 Conn. L. Rev. 467, 479, 480 (1986)
(hereinafter Casto, Law of Nations); Cf. Dodge, The
Constitutionality of the Alien Tort Statute: Some Observations on
Text and Context, 42 Va. J. Int’l L. 687, 689 (2002). In sum, we
think the statute was intended as jurisdictional in the sense of
addressing the power of the courts to entertain cases concerned
with a certain subject.
But holding the ATS jurisdictional raises a
new question, this one about the interaction between the ATS at the
time of its enactment and the ambient law of the era. Sosa would
have it that the ATS was stillborn because there could be no claim
for relief without a further statute expressly authorizing adoption
of causes of action.
Amici professors of federal
jurisdiction and legal history take a different tack, that federal
courts could entertain claims once the jurisdictional grant was on
the books, because torts in violation of the law of nations would
have been recognized within the common law of the time. Brief for
Vikram Amar et al. as
Amici Curiae. We think history
and practice give the edge to this latter position.
1
“When the
United States
declared their independence, they were bound to receive the law of
nations, in its modern state of purity and refinement.”
Ware v.
Hylton, 3 Dall. 199, 281 (1796) (Wilson,
J.). In the years of the early Republic, this law of nations
comprised two principal elements, the first covering the general
norms governing the behavior of national states with each other:
“the science which teaches the rights subsisting
between nations or states, and the obligations
correspondent to those rights,” E. de Vattel, The Law of
Nations, Preliminaries §3 (J. Chitty et al. transl. and
ed. 1883) (hereinafter Vattel) (footnote omitted), or “that code of
public instruction which defines the rights and prescribes the
duties of nations, in their intercourse with each other,” 1 James
Kent Commentaries *1
. This aspect of the law of nations
thus occupied the executive and legislative domains, not the
judicial. See 4 W. Blackstone, Commentaries on the Laws of England
68 (1769) (hereinafter Commentaries) (“[O]ffenses against” the law
of nations are “principally incident to whole states or
nations”).
The law of nations
included a second, more pedestrian element, however, that did fall
within the judicial sphere, as a body of judge-made law regulating
the conduct of individuals situated outside domestic boundaries and
consequently carrying an international savor. To Blackstone, the
law of nations in this sense was implicated “in mercantile
questions, such as bills of exchange and the like; in all marine
causes, relating to freight, average, demurrage, insurances,
bottomry … ; [and] in all disputes relating to prizes, to
shipwrecks, to hostages, and ransom bills.” Id., at 67.
The law merchant emerged from the customary practices of
international traders and admiralty required its own transnational
regulation. And it was the law of nations in this sense that our
precursors spoke about when the Court explained the status of coast
fishing vessels in wartime grew from “ancient usage among civilized
nations, beginning centuries ago, and gradually ripening into a
rule of international law … .” The Paquete
Habana, 175 U. S. 677, 686
(1900).
There was, finally, a sphere in
which these rules binding individuals for the benefit of other
individuals overlapped with the norms of state relationships.
Blackstone referred to it when he mentioned three specific offenses
against the law of nations addressed by the criminal law of
England: violation of safe conducts, infringement of the rights of
ambassadors, and piracy. 4 Commentaries 68. An assault against an
ambassador, for example, impinged upon the sovereignty of the
foreign nation and if not adequately redressed could rise to an
issue of war. See Vattel 463–464. It was this narrow set of
violations of the law of nations, admitting of a judicial remedy
and at the same time threatening serious consequences in
international affairs, that was probably on minds of the men who
drafted the ATS with its reference to tort.
2
Before there was any
ATS, a distinctly American preoccupation with these hybrid
international norms had taken shape owing to the distribution of
political power from independence through the period of
confederation. The Continental Congress was hamstrung by its
inability to “cause infractions of treaties, or of the law of
nations to be punished,” J. Madison, Journal of the Constitutional
Convention 60 (E. Scott ed. 1893), and in 1781 the Congress
implored the States to vindicate rights under the law of nations.
In words that echo Blackstone, the congressional resolution called
upon state legislatures to “provide expeditious, exemplary, and
adequate punishment” for “the violation of safe conducts or
passports, … of hostility against such as are in amity, … with the
United States, … infractions of the immunities of ambassadors and
other public ministers … [and] “infractions of treaties and
conventions to which the United States are a party.” 21 Journals of
the Continental Congress 1136–1137 (G. Hunt ed. 1912) (hereinafter
Journals of the Continental Congress). The resolution recommended
that the States “authorise suits … for damages by the party
injured, and for compensation to the United States for damage
sustained by them from an injury done to a foreign power by a
citizen.” Id., at 1137; cf. Vattel 463–464 (“Whoever
offends … a public minister … should be punished … , and … the
state should, at the expense of the delinquent, give full
satisfaction to the sovereign who has been offended in the person
of his minister”). Apparently only one State acted upon the
recommendation, see First Laws of the State of Connecticut 82, 83
(J. Cushing ed. 1982) (1784 compilation; exact date of Act
unknown), but Congress had done what it could to signal a
commitment to enforce the law of nations.
Appreciation of the
Continental Congress’s incapacity to deal with this class of cases
was intensified by the so-called Marbois incident of May 1784, in
which a French adventurer, Longchamps, verbally and physically
assaulted the Secretary of the French Legion in Philadelphia. See
Respublica v. De Longchamps, 1 Dall. 111
(O. T. Phila. 1784).[Footnote 11] Congress called again for state legislation
addressing such matters, and concern over the inadequate
vindication of the law of nations persisted through the time of the
constitutional convention. See 1 Records of the Federal Convention
of 1787, p. 25 (M. Farrand ed. 1911) (speech of J. Randolph).
During the Convention itself, in fact, a New York City constable
produced a reprise of the Marbois affair and Secretary Jay reported
to Congress on the Dutch Ambassador’s protest, with the explanation
that “the federal government does not appear … to be vested with
any judicial Powers competent to the Cognizance and Judgment of
such Cases.” Casto, Law of Nations 494, and n. 152.
The Framers responded by vesting
the Supreme Court with original jurisdiction over “all Cases
affecting Ambassadors, other public ministers and Consuls.” U. S.
Const., Art. III, §2, and the First Congress followed through.
The Judiciary Act reinforced this Court’s original jurisdiction
over suits brought by diplomats, see 1 Stat. 80, ch. 20, §13,
created alienage jurisdiction, §11 and, of course, included the
ATS, §9. See generally Randall, Federal Jurisdiction over
International Law Claims: Inquiries into the Alien Tort Statute, 18
N. Y. U. J. Int’l L. & Pol. 1, 15–21 (1985)
(discussing foreign affairs implications of the Judiciary Act); W.
Casto, The Supreme Court in the Early Republic 27–53
(1995).
3
Although Congress
modified the draft of what became the Judiciary Act, see generally
Warren, New Light on the History of the Federal Judiciary Act of
1789, 37 Harv. L. Rev. 49 (1923), it made hardly any changes
to the provisions on aliens, including what became the ATS, see
Casto, Law of Nations 498. There is no record of congressional
discussion about private actions that might be subject to the
jurisdictional provision, or about any need for further legislation
to create private remedies; there is no record even of debate on
the section. Given the poverty of drafting history, modern
commentators have necessarily concentrated on the text, remarking
on the innovative use of the word “tort,” see, e.g.,
Sweeney, A Tort only in Violation of the Law of Nations, 18
Hastings Int’l & Comp. L. Rev. 445 (1995) (arguing that
“tort” refers to the law of prize), and the statute’s mixture of
terms expansive (“all suits”), see, e.g., Casto, Law of
Nations 500, and restrictive (“for a tort only”), see,
e.g., Randall, supra, at 28–31 (limiting suits to
torts, as opposed to commercial actions, especially by British
plaintiffs).[Footnote 12]
The historical scholarship has also placed the ATS within the
competition between federalist and antifederalist forces over the
national role in foreign relations. Id., at 22–23
(nonexclusiveness of federal jurisdiction under the ATS may reflect
compromise). But despite considerable scholarly attention, it is
fair to say that a consensus understanding of what Congress
intended has proven elusive.
Still, the history
does tend to support two propositions. First, there is every reason
to suppose that the First Congress did not pass the ATS as a
jurisdictional convenience to be placed on the shelf for use by a
future Congress or state legislature that might, some day,
authorize the creation of causes of action or itself decide to make
some element of the law of nations actionable for the benefit of
foreigners. The anxieties of the preconstitutional period cannot be
ignored easily enough to think that the statute was not meant to
have a practical effect. Consider that the principal draftsman of
the ATS was apparently Oliver Ellsworth,[Footnote 13] previously a member of the Continental
Congress that had passed the 1781 resolution and a member of the
Connecticut Legislature that made good on that congressional
request. See generally W. Brown, The Life of Oliver Ellsworth
(1905). Consider, too, that the First Congress was attentive enough
to the law of nations to recognize certain offenses expressly as
criminal, including the three mentioned by Blackstone. See An Act
for the Punishment of Certain Crimes Against the United States, §8,
1 Stat. 113–114 (murder or robbery, or other capital crimes,
punishable as piracy if committed on the high seas), and §28,
id., at 118 (violation of safe conducts and assaults
against ambassadors punished by imprisonment and fines described as
“infract[ions of] the law of nations”). It would have been passing
strange for Ellsworth and this very Congress to vest federal courts
expressly with jurisdiction to entertain civil causes brought by
aliens alleging violations of the law of nations, but to no effect
whatever until the Congress should take further action. There is
too much in the historical record to believe that Congress would
have enacted the ATS only to leave it lying fallow
indefinitely.
The second inference to be drawn
from the history is that Congress intended the ATS to furnish
jurisdiction for a relatively modest set of actions alleging
violations of the law of nations. Uppermost in the legislative mind
appears to have been offenses against ambassadors, see
id., at 118; violations of safe conduct were probably
understood to be actionable, ibid., and individual actions
arising out of prize captures and piracy may well have also been
contemplated. Id., at 113–114. But the common law appears
to have understood only those three of the hybrid variety as
definite and actionable, or at any rate, to have assumed only a
very limited set of claims. As Blackstone had put it, “offences
against this law [of nations] are principally incident to whole
states or nations,” and not individuals seeking relief in court. 4
Commentaries 68.
4
The sparse
contemporaneous cases and legal materials referring to the ATS tend
to confirm both inferences, that some, but few, torts in violation
of the law of nations were understood to be within the common law.
In Bolchos v. Darrel, 3 F. Cas. 810 (No.
1,607) (S. C. 1795), the District Court’s doubt about
admiralty jurisdiction over a suit for damages brought by a French
privateer against the mortgagee of a British slave ship was
assuaged by assuming that the ATS was a jurisdictional basis for
the court’s action. Nor is Moxon v. The Fanny, 17
F. Cas. 942 (No. 9, 895) (Pa. 1793), to the contrary, a case
in which the owners of a British ship sought damages for its
seizure in United States waters by a French privateer. The District
Court said in dictum that the ATS was not the proper vehicle for
suit because “[i]t cannot be called a suit for a tort only, when
the property, as well as damages for the supposed trespass, are
sought for.” Id., at 948. But the judge gave no intimation
that further legislation would have been needed to give the
District Court jurisdiction over a suit limited to
damages.
Then there was the
1795 opinion of Attorney General William Bradford, who was asked
whether criminal prosecution was available against Americans who
had taken part in the French plunder of a British slave colony in
Sierra Leone. 1 Op. Atty. Gen. 57. Bradford was uncertain, but he
made it clear that a federal court was open for the prosecution of
a tort action growing out of the episode:
“But there can be no doubt that the
company or individuals who have been injured by these acts of
hostility have a remedy by a civil suit in the courts of
the United States; jurisdiction being expressly given to these
courts in all cases where an alien sues for a tort only, in
violation of the laws of nations, or a treaty of the United
States … .” Id., at 59.
Although it is
conceivable that Bradford (who had prosecuted in the Marbois
incident, see Casto, Law of Nations 503, n. 201) assumed that
there had been a violation of a treaty, 1 Op. Atty. Gen., at 58,
that is certainly not obvious, and it appears likely that Bradford
understood the ATS to provide jurisdiction over what must have
amounted to common law causes of action.
B
Against these
indications that the ATS was meant to underwrite litigation of a
narrow set of common law actions derived from the law of nations,
Sosa raises two main objections. First, he claims that this
conclusion makes no sense in view of the Continental Congress’s
1781 recommendation to state legislatures to pass laws authorizing
such suits. Sosa thinks state legislation would have been “absurd,”
Reply Brief for Petitioner Sosa 5, if common law remedies had been
available. Second, Sosa juxtaposes Blackstone’s treatise mentioning
violations of the law of nations as occasions for criminal
remedies, against the statute’s innovative reference to “tort,” as
evidence that there was no familiar set of legal actions for
exercise of jurisdiction under the ATS. Neither argument is
convincing.
The notion that it
would have been absurd for the Continental Congress to recommend
that States pass positive law to duplicate remedies already
available at common law rests on a misunderstanding of the
relationship between common law and positive law in the late 18th
century, when positive law was frequently relied upon to reinforce
and give standard expression to the “brooding
omnipresence”[Footnote 14]
of the common law then thought discoverable by reason. As
Blackstone clarified the relation between positive law and the law
of nations, “those acts of parliament, which have from time to time
been made to enforce this universal law, or to facilitate the
execution of [its] decisions, are not to be considered as
introductive of any new rule, but merely as declaratory of the old
fundamental constitutions of the kingdom; without which it must
cease to be a part of the civilized world.” 4 Commentaries 67.
Indeed, Sosa’s argument is undermined by the 1781 resolution on
which he principally relies. Notwithstanding the undisputed fact
(per Blackstone) that the common law afforded criminal law remedies
for violations of the law of nations, the Continental Congress
encouraged state legislatures to pass criminal statutes to the same
effect, and the first Congress did the same, supra, at
23.[Footnote 15]
Nor are we convinced by Sosa’s
argument that legislation conferring a right of action is needed
because Blackstone treated international law offenses under the
rubric of “public wrongs,” whereas the ATS uses a word, “tort,”
that was relatively uncommon in the legal vernacular of the day. It
is true that Blackstone did refer to what he deemed the three
principal offenses against the law of nations in the course of
discussing criminal sanctions, observing that it was in the
interest of sovereigns “to animadvert upon them with a becoming
severity, that the peace of the world may be maintained,” 4
Commentaries 68.[Footnote
16] But Vattel explicitly linked the criminal sanction for
offenses against ambassadors with the requirement that the state,
“at the expense of the delinquent, give full satisfaction to the
sovereign who has been offended in the person of his minister.”
Vattel 463–464. Cf. Stephens, Individuals Enforcing International
Law: The Comparative and Historical Context, 52 DePaul L. Rev.
433, 444 (2002) (observing that a “mixed approach to international
law violations, encompassing both criminal prosecution … and
compensation to those injured through a civil suit, would have been
familiar to the founding generation”). The 1781 resolution goes a
step further in showing that a private remedy was thought necessary
for diplomatic offenses under the law of nations. And the Attorney
General’s Letter of 1795, as well as the two early federal
precedents discussing the ATS, point to a prevalent assumption that
Congress did not intend the ATS to sit on the shelf until some
future time when it might enact further legislation.
In sum, although the ATS is a
jurisdictional statute creating no new causes of action, the
reasonable inference from the historical materials is that the
statute was intended to have practical effect the moment it became
law. The jurisdictional grant is best read as having been enacted
on the understanding that the common law would provide a cause of
action for the modest number of international law violations with a
potential for personal liability at the time.
IV
We think it is
correct, then, to assume that the First Congress understood that
the district courts would recognize private causes of action for
certain torts in violation of the law of nations, though we have
found no basis to suspect Congress had any examples in mind beyond
those torts corresponding to Blackstone’s three primary offenses:
violation of safe conducts, infringement of the rights of
ambassadors, and piracy. We assume, too, that no development in the
two centuries from the enactment of §1350 to the birth of the
modern line of cases beginning with Filartiga v.
Pena-Irala, 630 F. 2d 876 (CA2 1980), has categorically
precluded federal courts from recognizing a claim under the law of
nations as an element of common law; Congress has not in any
relevant way amended §1350 or limited civil common law power by
another statute. Still, there are good reasons for a restrained
conception of the discretion a federal court should exercise in
considering a new cause of action of this kind. Accordingly, we
think courts should require any claim based on the present-day law
of nations to rest on a norm of international character accepted by
the civilized world and defined with a specificity comparable to
the features of the 18th-century paradigms we have recognized. This
requirement is fatal to Alvarez’s claim.
A
A series of reasons
argue for judicial caution when considering the kinds of individual
claims that might implement the jurisdiction conferred by the early
statute. First, the prevailing conception of the common law has
changed since 1789 in a way that counsels restraint in judicially
applying internationally generated norms. When §1350 was enacted,
the accepted conception was of the common law as “a transcendental
body of law outside of any particular State but obligatory within
it unless and until changed by statute.” Black and White
Taxicab & Transfer Co. v. Brown and Yellow Taxicab
& Transfer Co., 276 U. S. 518, 533
(1928) (Holmes, J., dissenting). Now, however, in most cases where
a court is asked to state or formulate a common law principle in a
new context, there is a general understanding that the law is not
so much found or discovered as it is either made or created. Holmes
explained famously in 1881 that
“in substance the growth of the law is
legislative … [because t]he very considerations which judges most
rarely mention, and always with an apology, are the secret root
from which the law draws all the juices of life. I mean, of course,
considerations of what is expedient for the community concerned.”
The Common Law 31–32 (Howe ed. 1963).
One need not accept the Holmesian view
as far as its ultimate implications to acknowledge that a judge
deciding in reliance on an international norm will find a
substantial element of discretionary judgment in the
decision.
Second, along with, and in part
driven by, that conceptual development in understanding common law
has come an equally significant rethinking of the role of the
federal courts in making it. Erie R. Co. v.
Tompkins, 304 U. S. 64 (1938), was the watershed
in which we denied the existence of any federal “general” common
law, id., at 78, which largely withdrew to havens of
specialty, some of them defined by express congressional
authorization to devise a body of law directly, e.g.,
Textile Workers v. Lincoln Mills of
Ala., 353
U. S. 448 (1957) (interpretation of collective-bargaining
agreements); Fed. Rule Evid. 501 (evidentiary privileges in
federal-question cases). Elsewhere, this Court has thought it was
in order to create federal common law rules in interstitial areas
of particular federal interest. E.g., United
States v. Kimbell Foods, Inc., 440 U. S. 715, 726–727
(1979).[Footnote 17] And
although we have even assumed competence to make judicial rules of
decision of particular importance to foreign relations, such as the
act of state doctrine, see Banco Nacional de Cuba v.
Sabbatino, 376 U. S. 398, 427
(1964), the general practice has been to look for legislative
guidance before exercising innovative authority over substantive
law. It would be remarkable to take a more aggressive role in
exercising a jurisdiction that remained largely in shadow for much
of the prior two centuries.
Third, this Court has recently and
repeatedly said that a decision to create a private right of action
is one better left to legislative judgment in the great majority of
cases. Correctional Services Corp. v.
Malesko, 534 U. S. 61, 68 (2001);
Alexander v. Sandoval, 532 U. S. 275, 286–287
(2001). The creation of a private right of action raises issues
beyond the mere consideration whether underlying primary conduct
should be allowed or not, entailing, for example, a decision to
permit enforcement without the check imposed by prosecutorial
discretion. Accordingly, even when Congress has made it clear by
statute that a rule applies to purely domestic conduct, we are
reluctant to infer intent to provide a private cause of action
where the statute does not supply one expressly. While the absence
of congressional action addressing private rights of action under
an international norm is more equivocal than its failure to provide
such a right when it creates a statute, the possible collateral
consequences of making international rules privately actionable
argue for judicial caution.
Fourth, the subject of those
collateral consequences is itself a reason for a high bar to new
private causes of action for violating international law, for the
potential implications for the foreign relations of the United
States of recognizing such causes should make courts particularly
wary of impinging on the discretion of the Legislative and
Executive Branches in managing foreign affairs. It is one thing for
American courts to enforce constitutional limits on our own State
and Federal Governments’ power, but quite another to consider suits
under rules that would go so far as to claim a limit on the power
of foreign governments over their own citizens, and to hold that a
foreign government or its agent has transgressed those limits. Cf.
Sabbatino, supra, at 431–432. Yet modern
international law is very much concerned with just such questions,
and apt to stimulate calls for vindicating private interests in
§1350 cases. Since many attempts by federal courts to craft
remedies for the violation of new norms of international law would
raise risks of adverse foreign policy consequences, they should be
undertaken, if at all, with great caution. Cf. Tel-Oren v.
Libyan Arab Republic, 726 F. 2d 774, 813 (CADC 1984)
(Bork, J., concurring) (expressing doubt that §1350 should be read
to require “our courts [to] sit in judgment of the conduct of
foreign officials in their own countries with respect to their own
citizens”).
The fifth reason is particularly
important in light of the first four. We have no congressional
mandate to seek out and define new and debatable violations of the
law of nations, and modern indications of congressional
understanding of the judicial role in the field have not
affirmatively encouraged greater judicial creativity. It is true
that a clear mandate appears in the Torture Victim Protection Act
of 1991, 106 Stat. 73, providing authority that “establish[es] an
unambiguous and modern basis for” federal claims of torture and
extrajudicial killing, H. R. Rep. No. 102–367, pt. 1,
p. 3 (1991). But that affirmative authority is confined to
specific subject matter, and although the legislative history
includes the remark that §1350 should “remain intact to permit
suits based on other norms that already exist or may ripen in the
future into rules of customary international law,” id., at
4, Congress as a body has done nothing to promote such suits.
Several times, indeed, the Senate has expressly declined to give
the federal courts the task of interpreting and applying
international human rights law, as when its ratification of the
International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights declared that
the substantive provisions of the document were not self-executing.
138 Cong. Rec. 8071 (1992).
B
These reasons argue
for great caution in adapting the law of nations to private rights.
Justice Scalia, post, p. 1 (opinion concurring in
part and concurring in judgment) concludes that caution is too
hospitable, and a word is in order to summarize where we have come
so far and to focus our difference with him on whether some norms
of today’s law of nations may ever be recognized legitimately by
federal courts in the absence of congressional action beyond §1350.
All Members of the Court agree that §1350 is only jurisdictional.
We also agree, or at least Justice Scalia does not dispute,
post, at 2, 7, that the jurisdiction was originally
understood to be available to enforce a small number of
international norms that a federal court could properly recognize
as within the common law enforceable without further statutory
authority. Justice Scalia concludes, however, that two subsequent
developments should be understood to preclude federal courts from
recognizing any further international norms as judicially
enforceable today, absent further congressional action. As
described before, we now tend to understand common law not as a
discoverable reflection of universal reason but, in a positivistic
way, as a product of human choice. And we now adhere to a
conception of limited judicial power first expressed in reorienting
federal diversity jurisdiction, see Erie
R. Co. v. Tompkins, 304 U. S. 64 (1938), that federal
courts have no authority to derive “general” common law.
Whereas Justice
Scalia sees these developments as sufficient to close the door to
further independent judicial recognition of actionable
international norms, other considerations persuade us that the
judicial power should be exercised on the understanding that the
door is still ajar subject to vigilant doorkeeping, and thus open
to a narrow class of international norms today. Erie did
not in terms bar any judicial recognition of new substantive rules,
no matter what the circumstances, and post-Erie
understanding has identified limited enclaves in which federal
courts may derive some substantive law in a common law way. For two
centuries we have affirmed that the domestic law of the United
States recognizes the law of nations. See, e.g.,
Sabbatino, 376 U. S., at 423 (“[I]t is, of course, true
that United States courts apply international law as a part of our
own in appropriate circumstances”);[Footnote 18] The Paquete Habana, 175 U. S., at
700 (“International law is part of our law, and must be ascertained
and administered by the courts of justice of appropriate
jurisdiction, as often as questions of right depending upon it are
duly presented for their determination”); The Nereide, 9
Cranch 388, 423 (1815) (Marshall, C. J.) (“[T]he Court is
bound by the law of nations which is a part of the law of the
land”); see also Texas Industries, Inc. v. Radcliff
Materials, Inc., 451 U. S. 630, 641
(1981) (recognizing that “international disputes implicating … our
relations with foreign nations” are one of the “narrow areas” in
which “federal common law” continues to exist). It would take some
explaining to say now that federal courts must avert their gaze
entirely from any international norm intended to protect
individuals.
We think an attempt to justify
such a position would be particularly unconvincing in light of what
we know about congressional understanding bearing on this issue
lying at the intersection of the judicial and legislative powers.
The First Congress, which reflected the understanding of the
framing generation and included some of the Framers, assumed that
federal courts could properly identify some international norms as
enforceable in the exercise of §1350 jurisdiction. We think it
would be unreasonable to assume that the First Congress would have
expected federal courts to lose all capacity to recognize
enforceable international norms simply because the common law might
lose some metaphysical cachet on the road to modern realism. Later
Congresses seem to have shared our view. The position we take today
has been assumed by some federal courts for 24 years, ever since
the Second Circuit decided Filartiga v.
Pena-Irala, 630 F. 2d 876 (CA2 1980), and for
practical purposes the point of today’s disagreement has been
focused since the exchange between Judge Edwards and Judge Bork in
Tel-Oren v. Libyan Arab Republic, 726 F. 2d
774 (CADC 1984), Congress, however, has not only expressed no
disagreement with our view of the proper exercise of the judicial
power, but has responded to its most notable instance by enacting
legislation supplementing the judicial determination in some
detail. See supra, at 34 (discussing the Torture Victim
Protection Act).
While we agree with Justice Scalia
to the point that we would welcome any congressional guidance in
exercising jurisdiction with such obvious potential to affect
foreign relations, nothing Congress has done is a reason for us to
shut the door to the law of nations entirely. It is enough to say
that Congress may do that at any time (explicitly, or implicitly by
treaties or statutes that occupy the field) just as it may modify
or cancel any judicial decision so far as it rests on recognizing
an international norm as such.[Footnote 19]
C
We must still,
however, derive a standard or set of standards for assessing the
particular claim Alvarez raises, and for this case it suffices to
look to the historical antecedents. Whatever the ultimate criteria
for accepting a cause of action subject to jurisdiction under
§1350, we are persuaded that federal courts should not recognize
private claims under federal common law for violations of any
international law norm with less definite content and acceptance
among civilized nations than the historical paradigms familiar when
§1350 was enacted. See, e.g., United States v.
Smith, 5 Wheat. 153, 163–180, n. a (1820)
(illustrating the specificity with which the law of nations defined
piracy). This limit upon judicial recognition is generally
consistent with the reasoning of many of the courts and judges who
faced the issue before it reached this Court. See
Filartiga, supra, at 890 (“[F]or purposes of
civil liability, the torturer has become—like the pirate and slave
trader before him—hostis humani generis, an enemy of all
mankind”); Tel-Oren, supra, at 781 (Edwards, J.,
concurring) (suggesting that the “limits of section 1350’s reach”
be defined by “a handful of heinous actions—each of which violates
definable, universal and obligatory norms”); see also
In re Estate of Marcos Human Rights Litigation, 25
F. 3d 1467, 1475 (CA9 1994) (“Actionable violations of
international law must be of a norm that is specific, universal,
and obligatory”). And the determination whether a norm is
sufficiently definite to support a cause of action[Footnote 20] should (and, indeed,
inevitably must) involve an element of judgment about the practical
consequences of making that cause available to litigants in the
federal courts.[Footnote
21]
Thus, Alvarez’s detention claim
must be gauged against the current state of international law,
looking to those sources we have long, albeit cautiously,
recognized.
“[W]here there is no treaty, and no
controlling executive or legislative act or judicial decision,
resort must be had to the customs and usages of civilized nations;
and, as evidence of these, to the works of jurists and
commentators, who by years of labor, research and experience, have
made themselves peculiarly well acquainted with the subjects of
which they treat. Such works are resorted to by judicial tribunals,
not for the speculations of their authors concerning what the law
ought to be, but for trustworthy evidence of what the law really
is.” The Paquete Habana, 175 U. S., at 700.
To begin with,
Alvarez cites two well-known international agreements that, despite
their moral authority, have little utility under the standard set
out in this opinion. He says that his abduction by Sosa was an
“arbitrary arrest” within the meaning of the Universal Declaration
of Human Rights (Declaration), G. A. Res. 217A (III),
U. N. Doc. A/810 (1948). And he traces the rule against
arbitrary arrest not only to the Declaration, but also to article
nine of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights
(Covenant), Dec. 19, 1996, 999 U. N. T. S.
171,[Footnote 22] to which
the United States is a party, and to various other conventions to
which it is not. But the Declaration does not of its own force
impose obligations as a matter of international law. See Humphrey,
The UN Charter and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, in
The International Protection of Human Rights 39, 50 (E. Luard ed.
1967) (quoting Eleanor Roosevelt calling the Declaration “ ‘a
statement of principles … setting up a common standard of
achievement for all peoples and all nations’ ” and “ ‘not
a treaty or international agreement … impos[ing] legal
obligations’ ”).[Footnote
23] And, although the Covenant does bind the United States as a
matter of international law, the United States ratified the
Covenant on the express understanding that it was not
self-executing and so did not itself create obligations enforceable
in the federal courts. See supra, at 33. Accordingly,
Alvarez cannot say that the Declaration and Covenant themselves
establish the relevant and applicable rule of international law. He
instead attempts to show that prohibition of arbitrary arrest has
attained the status of binding customary international
law.
Here, it is useful to examine
Alvarez’s complaint in greater detail. As he presently argues it,
the claim does not rest on the cross-border feature of his
abduction.[Footnote 24]
Although the District Court granted relief in part on finding a
violation of international law in taking Alvarez across the border
from Mexico to the United States, the Court of Appeals rejected
that ground of liability for failure to identify a norm of
requisite force prohibiting a forcible abduction across a border.
Instead, it relied on the conclusion that the law of the United
States did not authorize Alvarez’s arrest, because the DEA lacked
extraterritorial authority under 21 U. S. C. §878, and because
Federal Rule of Criminal Procedure 4(d)(2) limited the warrant for
Alvarez’s arrest to “the jurisdiction of the United
States.”[Footnote 25] It is
this position that Alvarez takes now: that his arrest was arbitrary
and as such forbidden by international law not because it infringed
the prerogatives of Mexico, but because no applicable law
authorized it.[Footnote
26]
Alvarez thus invokes a general
prohibition of “arbitrary” detention defined as officially
sanctioned action exceeding positive authorization to detain under
the domestic law of some government, regardless of the
circumstances. Whether or not this is an accurate reading of the
Covenant, Alvarez cites little authority that a rule so broad has
the status of a binding customary norm today.[Footnote 27] He certainly cites nothing to
justify the federal courts in taking his broad rule as the
predicate for a federal lawsuit, for its implications would be
breathtaking. His rule would support a cause of action in federal
court for any arrest, anywhere in the world, unauthorized by the
law of the jurisdiction in which it took place, and would create a
cause of action for any seizure of an alien in violation of the
Fourth Amendment, supplanting the actions under Rev. Stat. §1979,
42 U. S. C. §1983 and Bivens v. Six Unknown Fed.
Narcotics Agents, 403 U. S. 388 (1971),
that now provide damages remedies for such violations. It would
create an action in federal court for arrests by state officers who
simply exceed their authority; and for the violation of any limit
that the law of any country might place on the authority of its own
officers to arrest. And all of this assumes that Alvarez could
establish that Sosa was acting on behalf of a government when he
made the arrest, for otherwise he would need a rule broader
still.
Alvarez’s failure to marshal
support for his proposed rule is underscored by the Restatement
(Third) of Foreign Relations Law of the United States (1987), which
says in its discussion of customary international human rights law
that a “state violates international law if, as a matter of state
policy, it practices, encourages, or condones … prolonged arbitrary
detention.” Id., §702. Although the Restatement does not
explain its requirements of a “state policy” and of “prolonged”
detention, the implication is clear. Any credible invocation of a
principle against arbitrary detention that the civilized world
accepts as binding customary international law requires a factual
basis beyond relatively brief detention in excess of positive
authority. Even the Restatement’s limits are only the beginning of
the enquiry, because although it is easy to say that some policies
of prolonged arbitrary detentions are so bad that those who enforce
them become enemies of the human race, it may be harder to say
which policies cross that line with the certainty afforded by
Blackstone’s three common law offenses. In any event, the label
would never fit the reckless policeman who botches his warrant,
even though that same officer might pay damages under municipal
law. E.g., Groh v. Ramirez, 540 U. S.
___ (2004).[Footnote
28]
Whatever may be said for the broad
principle Alvarez advances, in the present, imperfect world, it
expresses an aspiration that exceeds any binding customary rule
having the specificity we require.[Footnote 29] Creating a private cause of action to
further that aspiration would go beyond any residual common law
discretion we think it appropriate to exercise.[Footnote 30] It is enough to hold that a single
illegal detention of less than a day, followed by the transfer of
custody to lawful authorities and a prompt arraignment, violates no
norm of customary international law so well defined as to support
the creation of a federal remedy.
* * *
The
judgment of the Court of Appeals is
Reversed.
Footnote 1
In the Ninth
Circuit’s view, it was critical that “DEA agents had no authority
under federal law to execute an extraterritorial arrest of a
suspect indicted in federal court in Los Angeles.” 331 F. 3d,
at 640. Once Alvarez arrived in the United States, “the actions of
domestic law enforcement set in motion a supervening prosecutorial
mechanism which met all of the procedural requisites of federal due
process.” Id., at 637.
Footnote
2
See also
Couzado v. United States, 105 F. 3d 1389,
1396 (CA11 1997) (“ ‘[A] claim is not barred by section
2680(k) where the tortious conduct occurs in the United States, but
the injury is sustained in a foreign country’ ”) (quoting
Donahue v. United States Dept. of Justice, 751
F. Supp. 45, 47 (SDNY 1990)); Martinez v.
Lamagno, No. 93–1573, 1994 WL 159771, *2, judgt. order
reported at 23 F. 3d 402 (CA4 1994) (per curiam)
(unpublished opinion) (“A headquarters claim exists where negligent
acts in the United States proximately cause harm in a foreign
country”), rev’d on other grounds, 515 U. S. 417 (1995);
Leaf v. United States, 588 F. 2d 733, 736
(CA9 1978) (“A claim ‘arises’, as that term is used in … 2680(k),
where the acts or omissions that proximately cause the loss take
place”); cf. Eaglin v. United States, Dept.
of Army, 794 F. 2d 981, 983 (CA5 1986) (assuming,
arguendo, that headquarters doctrine is
valid).
Footnote
3
See also Restatement
(Second) of Conflict of Laws 412 (1969) (“The original Restatement
stated that, with minor exceptions, all substantive questions
relating to the existence of a tort claim are governed by the local
law of the ‘place of wrong.’ This was described … as ‘the state
where the last event necessary to make an actor liable for an
alleged tort takes place.’ Since a tort is the product of wrongful
conduct and of resulting injury and since the injury follows the
conduct, the state of the ‘last event’ is the state where the
injury occurred”).
Footnote
4
The FTCA was passed
with precisely these kinds of garden-variety torts in mind. See S.
Rep. No. 1400, 79th Cong., 2d Sess., p. 31 (1946) (“With the
expansion of governmental activities in recent years, it becomes
especially important to grant to private individuals the right to
sue the Government in respect to such torts as negligence in the
operation of vehicles”); see generally Feres v. United
States, 340 U.
S. 135, 139–140 (1950) (Congress was principally concerned with
making the Government liable for ordinary torts that “would have
been actionable if inflicted by an individual or a
corporation”).
Footnote
5
The application of
foreign law might nonetheless have been avoided in headquarters
cases if courts had been instructed to apply the substantive tort
law of the State where the federal act or omission occurred,
regardless of where the ultimate harm transpired. But in
Richards v. United States, 369 U. S. 1 (1962), we held that the Act
requires “the whole law (including choice-of-law rules) … of the
State where the [allegedly tortious federal] act or omission
occurred,” id., at 3, 11. Given the dominant American
choice-of-law approach at the time the Act was passed, that would
have resulted in the application of foreign law in virtually any
case where the plaintiff suffered injury
overseas.
Footnote
6
See also Rydstrom,
Modern Status of Rule that Substantive Rights of Parties to a Tort
Action are Governed by the Law of the Place of the Wrong, 29 A.
L. R. 3d 603, *2 (1970) (“Many courts are now abandoning the
orthodox rule that the substantive rights of the parties are
governed by the law of the place of the wrong”). We express no
opinion on the relative merits of the various approaches to choice
questions; our discussion of the subject is intended only to
indicate how, as a positive matter, transjurisdictional cases are
likely to be treated today.
Footnote
7
Under the Second
Restatement, tort liability is determined “by the local law of the
state which … has the most significant relationship to the
occurrence and the parties,” taking into account “the place where
the injury occurred,” “the place where the conduct causing the
injury occurred,” “the domicil, residence, nationality, place of
incorporation and place of business of the parties,” and “the place
where the relationship, if any, between the parties is centered.”
Restatement (Second) of Conflict of Laws §145
(1969).
Footnote
8
The courts that have
applied the headquarters doctrine, believing it to be intimated by
our emphasis, in Richards v. United States,
supra, on the place of the occurrence of the negligent
act, have acknowledged the possibility that foreign law may govern
FTCA claims as a function of Richards’s further holding
that the whole law of the pertinent State (including its
choice-of-law provisions) is to be applied. See, e.g.,
Leaf, 588 F. 2d, at 736, n. 3. Some courts have
attempted to defuse the resulting tension with the object behind
the foreign country exception. See, e.g., Sami
v. United States 617 F. 2d 755, 763 (CADC 1979)
(believing that norm against application of foreign law when
contrary to forum policy is sufficient to overcome possible
conflict). We think that these attempts to resolve the tension give
short shrift to the clear congressional mandate embodied by the
foreign country exception. Cf. Shapiro, Choice of Law Under the
Federal Tort Claims Act: Richards and Renvoi Revisited, 70
N. C. L. Rev. 641, 659–660 (1992) (noting that the
Richards rule that the totality of a State’s law is to be
consulted may undermine the object behind the foreign country
exception).
Footnote
9
It is difficult to
reconcile the Government’s contrary reading with the fact that two
of the Act’s other exceptions specifically reference an “act or
omission.” See 28 U. S. C. §2680(a) (exempting United States
from liability for “[a]ny claim based upon an act or omission of an
employee of the Government, exercising due care, in the execution
of a statute or regulation”); §2680(e) (“Any claim arising out of
an act or omission of any employee of the Government in
administering [certain portions of the Trading with the Enemy Act
of 1917]”). The Government’s request that we read that phrase into
the foreign country exception, when it is clear that Congress knew
how to specify “act or omission” when it wanted to, runs afoul of
the usual rule that “when the legislature uses certain language in
one part of the statute and different language in another, the
court assumes different meanings were intended.” 2A N. Singer,
Statutes and Statutory Construction §46:06, p. 194 (6th ed.
2000).
Footnote
10
The statute has been
slightly modified on a number of occasions since its original
enactment. It now reads in its entirety: “The district courts shall
have original jurisdiction of any civil action by an alien for a
tort only, committed in violation of the law of nations or a treaty
of the United States.” 28 U. S. C. §1350.
Footnote
11
The French minister
plenipotentiary lodged a formal protest with the Continental
Congress, 27 Journals of the Continental Congress 478, and
threatened to leave Pennsylvania “unless the decision on Longchamps
Case should give them full satisfaction.” Letter from Samuel Hardy
to Gov. Benjamin Harrison of Virginia, June 24, 1784, in 7 Letters
of Members of the Continental Congress 558, 559 (E. Burnett ed.
1934). Longchamps was prosecuted for a criminal violation of the
law of nations in state court.
The Congress could
only pass resolutions, one approving the state-court proceedings,
27 Journals of the Continental Congress 503, another directing the
Secretary of Foreign Affairs to apologize and to “explain to Mr. De
Marbois the difficulties that may arise … from the nature of a
federal union,” 28 Journals of the Continental Congress 314, and to
explain to the representative of Louis XVI that “many allowances
are to be made for” the young Nation.
Ibid.
Footnote
12
The restriction may
have served the different purpose of putting foreigners on notice
that they would no longer be able to prosecute their own criminal
cases in federal court. Compare, e.g., 3 Commentaries 160
(victims could start prosecutions) with the Judiciary Act §35.
(creating the office of the district attorney). Cf. 1 Op. Atty.
Gen. 41, 42 (1794) (British consul could not himself initiate
criminal prosecution, but could provide evidence to the grand
jury.)
Footnote
13
The ATS appears in
Ellsworth’s handwriting in the original version of the bill in the
National Archives. Casto, Law of Nations 498,
n. 169.
Footnote
14
See Southern
Pacific Co. v. Jensen, 244 U. S. 205, 222
(1917) (Holmes, J., dissenting).
Footnote
15
Being consistent with
the prevailing understanding of international law, the 1781
resolution is sensibly understood as an act of international
politics, for the recommendation was part of a program to assure
the world that the new Republic would observe the law of nations.
On the same day it made its recommendation to state legislatures,
the Continental Congress received a confidential report, detailing
negotiations between American representatives and Versailles. 21
Journals of the Continental Congress 1137–1140. The King was
concerned about the British capture of the ship Marquis de la
Fayette on its way to Boston, id., at 1139, and he
“expresse[d] a desire that the plan for the appointment of consuls
should be digested and adopted, as the Court of France wished to
make it the basis of some commercial arrangements between France
and the United States.” Id., at 1140. The congressional
resolution would not have been all that Louis XVI wished for, but
it was calculated to assure foreign powers that Congress at least
intended their concerns to be addressed in the way they would have
chosen. As a French legal treatise well known to early American
lawyers, see Helmholz, Use of the Civil Law in Post-Revolutionary
American Jurisprudence, 66 Tulane L. Rev. 1649 (1992), put it, “the
laws ought to be written, to the end that the writing may fix the
sense of the law, and determine the mind to conceive a just idea of
that which is established by the law, and that it not be left free
for every one to frame the law as he himself is pleased to
understand it … .” 1 J. Domat, The Civil Law in its
Natural Order 108, (W. Strahan transl. and L. Cushing ed. 1861). A
congressional statement that common law was up to the task at hand
might well have fallen short of impressing a continental
readership.
Footnote
16
Petitioner says
animadversion is “an archaic reference to the imposition of
punishment.” Reply Brief for Petitioner Sosa 4 (emphasis
in original). That claim is somewhat exaggerated, however. To
animadvert carried the broader implication of “turn[ing] the
attention officially or judicially, tak[ing] legal cognizance of
anything deserving of chastisement or censure; hence, to
proceed by way of punishment or censure.” 1 Oxford English
Dictionary 474 (2d ed. 1989). Blackstone in fact used the term in
the context of property rights and damages. Of a man who is
disturbed in his enjoyment of “qualified property” “the law will
animadvert hereon as an injury.” 2 Commentaries 395. See also 9
Papers of James Madison 349 (R. Rutland ed. 1975) (“As yet foreign
powers have not been rigorous in animadverting on us” for
violations of the law of nations).
Footnote
17
See generally R.
Fallon, D. Meltzer, D. Shapiro, Hart and Wechsler’s The Federal
Courts and the Federal System ch. 7 (5th ed. 2003); Friendly, In
Praise of Erie—and of the New Federal Common Law, 39
N. Y. U. L. Rev. 383, 405–422 (1964).
Footnote
18
Sabbatino
itself did not directly apply international law, see 376 U. S., at
421–423, but neither did it question the application of that law in
appropriate cases, and it further endorsed the reasoning of a noted
commentator who had argued that Erie should not preclude
the continued application of international law in federal courts.
376 U. S., at 425 (citing Jessup, The Doctrine of Erie Railroad v.
Tompkins Applied to International Law, 33 Am. J. Int’l L. 740
(1939)).
Footnote
19
Our position does
not, as Justice Scalia suggests, imply that every grant of
jurisdiction to a federal court carries with it an opportunity to
develop common law (so that the grant of federal-question
jurisdiction would be equally as good for our purposes as §1350),
see post, at 8, n. 1. Section 1350 was enacted on the
congressional understanding that courts would exercise jurisdiction
by entertaining some common law claims derived from the law of
nations; and we know of no reason to think that federal-question
jurisdiction was extended subject to any comparable congressional
assumption. Further, our holding today is consistent with the
division of responsibilities between federal and state courts after
Erie, see supra, at 32, 35–36, as a more
expansive common law power related to 28 U. S. C. §1331 might
not be.
Footnote
20
A related
consideration is whether international law extends the scope of
liability for a violation of a given norm to the perpetrator being
sued, if the defendant is a private actor such as a corporation or
individual. Compare Tel-Oren v. Libyan Arab
Republic, 726 F. 2d 774, 791–795 (CADC 1984) (Edwards,
J., concurring) (insufficient consensus in 1984 that torture by
private actors violates international law), with Kadic v.
Karadzic, 70 F. 3d 232, 239–241 (CA2 1995)
(sufficient consensus in 1995 that genocide by private actors
violates international law).
Footnote
21
This requirement of
clear definition is not meant to be the only principle limiting the
availability of relief in the federal courts for violations of
customary international law, though it disposes of this case. For
example, the European Commission argues as amicus curiae
that basic principles of international law require that before
asserting a claim in a foreign forum, the claimant must have
exhausted any remedies available in the domestic legal system, and
perhaps in other fora such as international claims tribunals. See
Brief for European Commission as Amicus Curiae 24,
n. 54 (citing I. Brownlie, Principles of Public International
Law 472–481 (6th ed. 2003)); cf. Torture Victim Protection Act of
1991, §2(b), 106 Stat. 73 (exhaustion requirement). We would
certainly consider this requirement in an appropriate
case.
Another possible limitation that we need
not apply here is a policy of case-specific deference to the
political branches. For example, there are now pending in federal
district court several class actions seeking damages from various
corporations alleged to have participated in, or abetted, the
regime of apartheid that formerly controlled South Africa. See
In re South African Apartheid Litigation, 238
F. Supp. 2d 1379 (JPML 2002) (granting a motion to
transfer the cases to the Southern District of New York). The
Government of South Africa has said that these cases interfere with
the policy embodied by its Truth and Reconciliation Commission,
which “deliberately avoided a ‘victors’ justice’ approach to the
crimes of apartheid and chose instead one based on confession and
absolution, informed by the principles of reconciliation,
reconstruction, reparation and goodwill.” Declaration of Penuell
Mpapa Maduna, Minister of Justice and Constitutional Development,
Republic of South Africa, reprinted in App. to Brief for Government
of Commonwealth of Australia et al. as Amici Curiae
7a, ¶ ;3.2.1 (emphasis deleted). The United States has agreed. See
Letter of William H. Taft IV, Legal Adviser, Dept. of State, to
Shannen W. Coffin, Deputy Asst. Atty. Gen., Oct. 27, 2003,
reprinted in id., at 2a. In such cases, there is a strong
argument that federal courts should give serious weight to the
Executive Branch’s view of the case’s impact on foreign policy. Cf.
Republic of Austria v. Altmann, 541 U. S. ___,
___ (2004) (slip op., at 23–24) (discussing the State Department’s
use of statements of interest in cases involving the Foreign
Sovereign Immunities Act of 1976, 28 U. S. C. §1602 et
seq.).
Footnote
22
Article nine provides
that “[n]o one shall be subjected to arbitrary arrest or
detention,” that “[n]o one shall be deprived of his liberty except
on such grounds and in accordance with such procedure as are
established by law,” and that “[a]nyone who has been the victim of
unlawful arrest or detention shall have an enforceable right to
compensation.” 999 U. N. T. S., at
175–176.
Footnote
23
It has nevertheless
had substantial indirect effect on international law. See Brownlie,
supra, at 535 (calling the Declaration a “good example of
an informal prescription given legal significance by the actions of
authoritative decision-makers”).
Footnote
24
Alvarez’s brief
contains one footnote seeking to incorporate by reference his
arguments on cross-border abductions before the Court of Appeals.
Brief for Respondent Alvarez-Machain 47, n. 46. That is not
enough to raise the question fairly, and we do not consider
it.
Footnote
25
The Rule has since
been moved and amended and now provides that a warrant may also be
executed “anywhere else a federal statute authorizes an arrest.”
Fed. Rule Crim. Proc. 4(c)(2).
Footnote
26
We have no occasion
to decide whether Alvarez is right that 21 U. S. C. §878 did
not authorize the arrest.
Footnote
27
Specifically, he
relies on a survey of national constitutions, Bassiouni, Human
Rights in the Context of Criminal Justice: Identifying
International Procedural Protections and Equivalent Protections in
National Constitutions, 3 Duke J. Comp. & Int’l L. 235, 260–261
(1993); a case from the International Court of Justice, United
States v. Iran, 1980 I. C. J. 3, 42; and
some authority drawn from the federal courts, see Brief for
Respondent Alvarez-Machain 49, n. 50. None of these suffice.
The Bassiouni survey does show that many nations recognize a norm
against arbitrary detention, but that consensus is at a high level
of generality. The Iran case, in which the United States
sought relief for the taking of its diplomatic and consular staff
as hostages, involved a different set of international norms and
mentioned the problem of arbitrary detention only in passing; the
detention in that case was, moreover, far longer and harsher than
Alvarez’s. See 1980 I. C. J., at 42, ¶ ;91 (“detention of
[United States] staff by a group of armed militants” lasted “many
months”). And the authority from the federal courts, to the extent
it supports Alvarez’s position, reflects a more assertive view of
federal judicial discretion over claims based on customary
international law than the position we take
today.
Footnote
28
In this case, Sosa
might well have been liable under Mexican law. Alvarez asserted
such a claim, but the District Court concluded that the applicable
law was the law of California, and that under California law Sosa
had been privileged to make a citizen’s arrest in Mexico. Whether
this was correct is not now before us, though we discern tension
between the court’s simultaneous conclusions that the detention so
lacked any legal basis as to violate international law, yet was
privileged by state law against ordinary tort
recovery.
Footnote
29
It is not that
violations of a rule logically foreclose the existence of that rule
as international law. Cf. Filartiga v.
Pena-Irala, 630 F. 2d 876, 884, n. 15 (CA2 1980)
(“The fact that the prohibition of torture is often honored in the
breach does not diminish its binding effect as a norm of
international law”). Nevertheless, that a rule as stated is as far
from full realization as the one Alvarez urges is evidence against
its status as binding law; and an even clearer point against the
creation by judges of a private cause of action to enforce the
aspiration behind the rule claimed.
Footnote
30
Alvarez also cites,
Brief for Respondent Alvarez-Machain 49–50, a finding by a United
Nations working group that his detention was arbitrary under the
Declaration, the Covenant, and customary international law. See
Report of the United Nations Working Group on Arbitrary Detention,
U. N. Doc. E/CN.4/1994/27, pp. 139–140 (Dec. 17, 1993). That
finding is not addressed, however, to our demanding standard of
definition, which must be met to raise even the possibility of a
private cause of action. If Alvarez wishes to seek compensation on
the basis of the working group’s finding, he must address his
request to Congress.
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