Nondelegation Principle Historical Development And Modern Trends Within the realm of international law, the succession of nations is among the most difficult, complicated, and politically charged areas of study. During the last stages of decolonization, the International Law Commission (ILC) made an effort to codify it. This effort resulted in the creation of two treaties known as the Vienna Conventions. However, none of these accords has garnered widespread involvement nor has they had a comprehensive influence on following practice. In the same way that the first wave of successions in decolonization (1950–1974) had reactive solutions, the second wave of desocialization (1990–1996) offered solutions that were sometimes explicitly improvisational and, at other times, professed to apply standards whose authority, substance, and rationales were unsettled. In his magnum work on the subject of treaty succession, Matthew Craven comes at the following conclusion: The majority of people who were working on succession after 1989 had the challenge of figuring out how to reconcile what they understood about the topic (for which the 1978 Convention was always a suitable starting point) with what seemed to be occurring around them. For some, this was evidently a problem-solving exercise (for example, what might be the best posture to adopt in relation to participation in the NPT?), for others it was a question of principle (the consequences of unlawful annexation of the Baltic Republics), for others still it was simply a matter of mapping out what was taking shape by reference to existing tenets of State succession as they saw them. It was the dissimilarity between the practice of the past and the practice of the present that appeared to be the most noticeable, with a few exceptional exceptions. Similar to what took place after decolonization, succession has been virtually removed from the professional agenda ever since desocialization of workers. Despite the fact that there has not been a third wave, there have been intermittent bits of 21st-century practice that have briefly rekindled the age-old difficulties of the past. These problems include South Sudan, Kosovo, and the Crimea6, in addition to Scotland, Catalonia, Moldova, and Iraqi Kurdistan as possible examples. The topic is also becoming more prominent in the area of investment arbitration, which includes succession to membership in the International Centre for the Settlement of Investment Disputes (ICSID) as well as several bilateral investment treaties. However, the conventional structure of the ILC's "outcomes" is the acceptance of draft articles with commentary to form the foundation for ratification as a treaty by an international conference. This is despite the fact that the ILC has moved toward issuing reports or "conclusions with commentaries" over the course of the previous five years. In spite of the fact that the reasons for this tendency are not entirely clear, the implications of the reconfiguration of its target audience, which includes an implied weakening of governments' control over the form and substance of the final product, have the potential to be quite significant. As opposed to the traditional two-step procedure, the ILC increases its authority over the content of its work while simultaneously decreasing the formal status of the product that is ultimately produced. In a broader sense, the process of codifying international law involves a winnowing process of doctrinal development. This is accomplished by the ongoing review of state practice in judicial and scholarly debate. The documents that are generated by the Commission are not the completed product of a sequential process; rather, they serve as a pivotal point in the ongoing development of the legal system: A genuine codification is a method that is not too complicated. It is only used for a certain reason, and that purpose is consistent throughout. The purpose of this proposal is not to alter the law in general; rather, it seeks to reform it in a specific manner, namely by presenting it in a form that is more convenient. Because of this, it does not need any motive force other than the belief that codified law is superior than law that has not been codified. The resources are provided to the codifier, and all that is required of him is to bring them into clarity and reorganize them. Furthermore, the procedure is one that is technical in nature. Due to the fact that it is not concerned with content but rather with form, it does not need any judgments to be made about the policy that the legislation ought to strive for. This remark is an expression of a technocratic ideal, notwithstanding the fact that the codifier is unable to totally separate policy from technicalities in reality. Not only does the International Law Commission (ILC) not differentiate between "codification" and "progressive development" in its work, but it also routinely admits in the preambles of codification treaties that customary international law will continue to apply to areas that are not controlled by the treaty. Therefore, the idea of codification continues to be a fluid one that defies precise definition. It is, paradoxically, a depoliticized-yet-political art for the projection of power by the college of international lawyers as a technocratic elite.31 Affecting the Commission’s ability to discharge its mandate in accordance with the expectations of governmental officials are logistical factors such as the availability of members, timing, working methods and budget. The influence that World War I had on the jus ad bellum and the way it crystallized notions surrounding themes such as collective security and the protection of minority groups are widely considered to be the most significant aspects of the war from a legal standpoint. On the other hand, its mark on the jus in bello is taken into consideration to have been quite little. After the conclusion of the "war to end all wars" and the beginning of an age that aimed to prohibit the use of force in the conduct of international affairs, politicians and lawyers alike were understandably hesitant to devote their efforts to legislating on how future conflicts would be conducted. This was because the war had just ended. Such steps that were taken to codify the conduct of hostilities – the draft Hague Rules on Air Warfare (1923) and the League of Nations' World Disarmament Conference (1932–1934) being the most obvious examples – revealed both the dangers that were implicit in such endeavors and their ultimate futility. There was no attempt made to revive the Hague conferences that were supposed to be a "peace" conference. The only Geneva Protocols that have been able to withstand the test of time are the Geneva Protocol on Asphyxiating or Poisonous Gases, and of Bacteriological Methods, which was signed on July 27, 1929, and the two Geneva Conventions, which were the Convention for the Amelioration of the Condition of the Wounded and Sick in Armies in the Field and the Convention Relative to the Treatment of Prisoners of War (POW Convention). The wave of codification that followed the war that lasted from 1939 to 1945 stands in sharp contrast to this little record that was created after to the conflict. The paradigm that emerged after 1945, which was shaped by the events that occurred during World War II and was included into the four Geneva Conventions of 1949, is generally considered to be the model that serves as the basis for the "law of armed conflict" or international humanitarian law (IHL) that is in effect today. The Hague Convention (II) of 1899, which was revised in 1907 as the Hague Convention (IV) on the Law and Customs of War on Land, is the starting point for any evaluation of the impact that World War I had on the law that governs the treatment of prisoners of war.6 Despite the fact that states had their own "field regulations" to guide them during times of war and had periodically addressed the matter at international congresses since the 1870s, it was not until 1899 that the international community came to an agreement on a set of rules that were legally binding. These criteria were relevant to fighting with the so-called "civilized" world; but, they were not always regarded valid for colonial fights against opponents who were not white by the colonial government. Although the 18 'POW' articles in the rules that were appended to the 1907 Hague Convention (IV) properly mirrored contemporary European practice, they did not dictate how these principles were to be implemented. These articles were updated in light of the 2nd South African (Boer) war and the Russo-Japanese conflicts that occurred at the turn of the century. The man who caught the captives or the state to which the prisoner pledged his loyalty was not ultimately responsible for the treatment of the detainees; rather, the final duty for the treatment of prisoners resided with the control state. On the other hand, many of these fundamental principles have remained unchanged throughout the course of the last century, and it would seem that they have been just modified or laid out in more detail in the Geneva Conventions of 1929 and 1949 that pertain to prisoners of war. The consistency of these fundamental ideas, on the other hand, may have concealed the relevance of other modifications about the way the POW system was implemented. According to our point of view, the events that occurred after the war are best understood as a picture of continuity and change. The element of change is crucial to acknowledge because it highlights the fact that, after World War I, nations not only attempted to make the standards more effective to protect prisoners of war (POWs), but they also sought new methods to better the application of international law. To put it another way, the individuals who were responsible for negotiating the Geneva Conventions in 1929 were aware of the fact that further words might be written down, but they lacked the means necessary to ensure that they would not be readily ignored or stomped over. Therefore, despite the fact that attitudes and detention practices after 1914 usually followed customary standards, the length of the war, as well as its magnitude and severity, revealed significant holes and inadequacies in the legal framework that existed before to the conflict. When compared to prior battles, the sheer number of prisoners, which is believed to be between 6.6 and 9 million men, or over a fourth of the population of France, stood out as a significant factor. On the eastern front, where one in three Austro-Hungarian troops and one in five Russian soldiers are said to have fallen into enemy hands, the bulk of these men were captured. Captivity, on the other hand, had become a truly worldwide phenomenon by the time the war was over, with an archipelago of camps and labor detachments reaching into every corner of the earth during the duration of the conflict. When one is studying Turkish international law textbooks, one is immediately struck by the apparent interaction between the prevailing legal theory, legal education, and foreign policy in Turkey. This is something that happens very quickly. Not only does the substantive and methodological framework of international legal studies in Turkey reflect the limits that Turkey faces as a result of its place within international society, but it also reflects those constraints. Turkish international law scholars have a tendency to adopt a conservative and positivistic stance in their treatment of rules, principles, and doctrinal conceptions of international law (IL). This is in line with Turkey's preference for a reactive, pragmatic, and pro-Western external posture; this preference dates back to the early 1950s. Within the context of Turkey, the study of international law is at a stage of development that is considered to be quite early. In the middle of the nineteenth century, the Ottoman Empire was allowed into the "Concert of Europe," which marked the beginning of Turkey's participation in "international society." More accurately, the Ottoman Empire was the first country to do so. In addition, Pazarci, whose international law textbook will be discussed in this article, makes the observation that this date coincides with the participation of Ottoman jurists in international law. During that time period, major sections of international law texts were authored by Christian minorities. These books were often translated from European textbooks or adapted from those textbooks. In-depth research in the subject of international law, as well as research in other fields, did not start until after the Turkish Republic was established. This was the first time that such research was conducted. The majority of these papers concentrated on broad topics of international law pertaining to international law. Only five works that were directed for an international audience had been published by Turkish academics by the time the Second World War came to a conclusion. This is excluding doctoral theses that were written by Turkish jurists who were studying in universities in Europe. After the war, an increasing number of studies prepared by Turkish IL experts were published. These works focused mostly on issues pertaining to general international law and topics that were strongly associated with Turkish foreign policy. Some examples of these topics include the Law of the Sea and the Law of the European Community (EC). Pazarci, on the other hand, has remarked that these research have not produced any significant contributions to the field. One piece of evidence that demonstrates this is the fact that only a very small number of Turkish jurists have been represented in international law commissions and tribunals. In the years after Grotius' publication of De Jure Belli ac Pacis, the structure of the international legal system has been built on the principle of distinguishing between states of war and states of peace. At the beginning of the 20th century, it was generally accepted that "the law recognizes a state of peace and a state of war, but that it knows nothing of an intermediate state which is neither one thing nor the other." This was a widely held belief at the time. It is possible that this assertion should be reconsidered in the present day. Despite the fact that war and peace are no longer considered to be rigid organizational frameworks for the classification of norms of international law, there are still remnants of the historical difference between war and peace that may be found in some separate domains of law. With the passage of the United Nations Charter, the grounds on which subjects of international law may legally resort to military conflict have been narrowed.3 There are a number of scenarios in which what was once known as "the law of war" and the "law of peace" apply concurrently. Furthermore, since 1945, one of the primary concerns of international law and practice has been the subject of how to bring about peace during times of transition after the conflict. As a result of these changes, there are certain questions that arise about whether or not certain conventional interpretations of international law are still enough to describe the intricacies of modern international law. Multilateralism and contractual law have been regarded by international lawyers for a considerable amount of time as representatives of the contemporary trend in the administration of the international community. This perspective is consistent with the narrative that nations have accepted the process of treaty making as the basis of international law as a result of the ongoing growth of international law and the rising interconnectedness of the global community. In spite of this, the consensus-based framework of international law has been the subject of debate in recent years, both from an analytically descriptive point of view and from a normative point of view. There have been discussions on the departures from commensalism that are associated with the primary features of the general phenomena. These qualities include the informality of international law, unilateralism, and the move towards regionalism. Previous assessments, on the other hand, seldom adopt a theory-based approach that is complete. This is especially true when it comes to evaluating how these unique developments represent a larger tendency towards non-commensalism in international law. Furthermore, these analyses do not provide an explanation framework for why this trend happens. Nathaniel Berman's contribution expands and contextualizes a number of the concepts that were presented by Coicaud in the opening chapters of this book. In his historical-political analysis, he emphasizes that legitimacy can "only ever be a provisional achievement – an achievement arrived at through internationalism's wrestling with its doubles, be they ideological adversaries, heterogeneous elements in local conflicts, or specters of its own unsavory past." In other words, legitimacy can only ever be a provisional achievement by definition. Vasuki Nesiah examines the concept of fault lines of legitimacy, which refers to the crisis of international legitimacy that manifests itself in the interaction between the old imperial military and the new humanitarian military intervention. In this research, a special focus is placed on the use of cosmopolitan ideals and language in relation to the obligation to protect, as well as the utilization of humanitarianism as a means of legitimizing the situation. The United Nations Security Council (hereafter referred to as the UNSC) and its function as a source of legitimacy for international organizations are the subject of three studies. The persuasive force of Ian Johnstone's analysis is relatively weak, especially when contrasted with the succinct statements made by Chimni in his illuminating essay on the legitimacy of humanitarian intervention. While Ian Johnstone makes an effort to demonstrate how legal deliberation and argument practices surrounding the United Nations Security Council's decision-making process support the legitimacy of the system, his analysis is not particularly persuasive. In spite of the fact that the United Nations Security Council is not the most suitable environment for deliberation, Johnstone asserts that "for the time being, it is the only institution capable of conferring legitimacy" (at 202, emphasis mine). On the other hand, Chimni argues that "the general image of the United Nations Security Council in the Third World is one of an organ in which power and not dialogue prevails and in which rules of discourse ethics are overcome by various threats and incentives" (which can be found at 323). Since the late 1960s, and particularly in the 1990s, states have given their approval to an international regime that allows foreign investors (also known as multinational corporations) to have the ability to file and enforce international claims against states in cases where disputes arise as a result of the state's regulation of investor assets. The arrangements that have been made in order to pursue these claims are, in a number of significant aspects, exceptional. There should be a particular emphasis placed on four aspects. The first thing to note is that these kinds of claims are often not subject to the usual constraints that are imposed on individual claims under other kinds of treaties. These limitations include the obligation of a person to exhaust local remedies, which is known as the principle of individualization. Second, according to the damages principle, according to investment treaties, investors have the ability to immediately submit claims for damages, which are given as a public law remedy. Lastly, due to the fact that investment treaties incorporate the procedural framework and enforcement structure of international commercial arbitration, investors have the ability to directly seek enforcement of the awards of arbitration tribunals before the domestic courts of a large number of countries, with limited judicial supervision by domestic courts (this is referred to as the principle of direct enforceability). In conclusion, investment treaties make it easier for investors to pick the forum in which they want to conduct their business. This is accomplished by allowing investors to selectively form holding companies, which in turn broadens the scope of investment arbitration as an international mechanism for adjudicative review (the forum-shopping concept). The impact of this combination of characteristics, which is only seen in investment arbitration, is to submit the regulatory behavior of governments to control via forced international adjudication to a level that is not typical. Investment arbitration should be seen as a powerful species of global administrative law. This is exactly due to the fact that these adjudicative norms and processes that are established on a worldwide scale have the ability to have a significant disciplinary impact on programmes that are administered on a domestic level. As a replacement for the tropical timber boycott, there have been calls for a system that would allow for the certification and labeling of timber that comes from forests that are managed in a sustainable manner. This would allow customers to recognize the timber when it is sold in the market. Consumers in the Northern region might avoid contributing to damaging forestry practices and, even better, promote good forestry practices if they only purchased wood that had been certified via such a system that was in place. The International Tropical wood Organization (ITTO) is an intergovernmental organization of tropical wood producing and consuming nations that was created in 1986 under the auspices of the United Nations. The first plans asked for a certification system to be run by the ITTO, or at the very least devised by the ITTO. Those plans were met with resistance and ultimately rejected by the ITTO, which caused a considerable deal of anxiety among a large number of environmental activists at the time.