
The standard textbook of Belgian Private International Law in French has just been published in its fourth edition (by Larcier Intersentia). The great scholar François Rigaux published the first version of this précis in 1977-1979 (in two volumes). The second edition followed in 1987-1993, and the third in 2005. While the third edition comprised a single volume, it comes as no surprise that the number of legislative texts and court decisions have obliged the authors to return to the two-volume format. Printed in small typeset and on thin paper, the entire work surpasses 2000 pages. The book forms part of the series Precis de la faculté de droit et de criminologie de l’UCLouvain. The two volumes are truly a “travail de moine” (a very detailed and painstaking work that requires much time and patience).
The authors are all professors or emeritus-professors at the UCLouvain, as was the initial author François Rigaux. He involved Marc Fallon in the second and third editions, and Marc Fallon invided Jean-Yves Carlier and Stéphanie Francq to join for the latest edition.
Volume I contains the general part, discussing the history and method of private international law, as well as general approaches to jurisdiction, applicable law, recognition, enforcement and procedure. Volume II covers specific topics.
The authors aim to provide students with both solutions and tools to learn methods of finding solutions. They state this approach in their preface, and remain faithful to it. The book is not restricted to students, but aimed at practitioners, lawyers, judges, notaries, civil servants, legal advisors and researchers alike. Each of these groups will use the book with a slightly different expectation – to find the correct approach, the learn about the law as it is, where it comes from and why it is the way it is. The book offers all of this, at the same time bringing together national, EU and international law, as is indispensable in current-day private international law. The book is therefore not limited to Belgian private international law. As the authors have a deep foundation in EU law, their discussions of private international law are grounded in this broader context. And as Marc Fallon states in the preface, EU law has become “omnipresent” next to the conventions of the Hague Conference on Private International Law. He adds that EU law is now covering a major part of private international law, and that even the parts that are not yet the subject of EU legislation are heavily influenced by primary EU law. Therefore the case law of the Court of Justice of the EU is now a major source of private international law.
The approach is not article-by-article but a coherent discussion of the legal domains of private international law. It contains a thorough explanation of the particular terminology as well as the links to substantive law. It is balanced, providing on the one hand a global analysis of the real complexities of the discipline, and on the other hand clear and precise information and illustrations from case law. Each chapter or section starts with an extensive bibliography of Belgian and international legal literature and websites, divided into the categories relevant for the chapter or section that follows.
The first volume is dedicated to the general part of private international law. Its first chapter sets private international law in the context of international law, international human rights protection, EU law, and transnational legal orders such as religious laws and acts by sports federations. The authors discuss the place of state law in this plurality of legal orders, and the method of private international law to solve system conflicts. It is didactic in its explanation of core notions such as State jurisdiction and sovereignty, spatial limits of State law, territoriality, and nationality.
A rich account of the historical foundations of private international law and different schools make up Chapter 2. The following Chapters, 3 to 7, discuss the connecting factor, its applicability, application, and operation. Chapter 6 dedicates its full 93 pages to the determination of foreign law, including internal conflicts and temporal issues. Renvoi is set out in 23 pages, which explain meticulously the various forms and effects of this technique, and offering an evaluation from various perspectives. This analysis allows the reader to understand the technique, and invites us to view it in all its nuances, for all its advantages, vices and practical value. The Chapter also reviews various methods, such as the method of recognition, and complications such as the preliminary question. It investigates how foreign law must be applied – ex officio or invoked by the parties, and how a court should find such foreign law. The reader encounters again an admirable combination of theory and practice. On the fiction of jura novit curia the authors showcase the different approaches on determining foreign law, and they link this to the nature of the connecting factor (multilateral or unilateral).
Chapter 8 turns to the sources of international procedural law, including the methods to interpret these sources. It covers sources of the EU, international law as well as bilateral treaties. Chapter 9 is a general chapter on civil jurisdiction for international cases. Chapter 10 is the same for recognition and enforcement, called the “effect” of foreign judgments and authentic instruments. The name simultaneously indicates the breadth and depth – the authors cover the many potential effects, and again in detail. They for example delve into the evidentiary effect of foreign acts, a matter that is causing jurists and negotiators headaches during discussions of the EU’s parenthood proposal that is currently on the drawing table. They discuss the external and internal effects, and the factual effects of foreign decisions and authentic acts. The lucidity they bring is welcome in current private international law. Placing this discussion in the general part of their book allows them to draw from various of the so-called third generation private international law Regulations in the EU, i.e. the Regulations that cover jurisdiction, applicable law, recognition, enforcement, and cross-border cooperation.
Volume II, the thicker of the two, approaches the various domains of private law step by step. It contains chapters on the law of persons and family (including marriage, divorce, registered partners, cohabitants, matrimonial property, filiation, the protection of children and of adults, and maintenance obligations), property law (including trusts, intellectual property, insolvency, succession), contracts (general and specific contracts), tort (general and specific). Each of these sections discuss jurisdiction, applicable law, recognition, and where relevant enforcement. The authors include the specificities of each domain of the law, covering international conventions, EU legislation and its Belgian implementation, Belgian legislation, and case law of EU and Belgian courts. They showcase where mandatory laws, EU primary law (such as free movement), public policy or other exceptions or peculiarities come at play. Old law that could still extend to current situations is also included, for instance with respect to matrimonial property.
The structure of the two books is to a large extent in line with the Belgian Private International Law Code of 2004 (and the Swiss code). But perhaps it is the other way around: perhaps the code followed the initial Rigaux and Fallon structure, with all its didactic qualities. Yet, the Private International Law Code is now full of large holes, eaten out by EU law. The same cannot be said of this Précis.
My copy, which initially served for this book review, is already filled with post-its for my own teaching and research.
Thalia Kruger
This report was written by Josephine Götze, LL.M.-student at the University of Groningen. An extended version will appear in a forthcoming edited volume published by Springer.
On 29 May 2026, the WEAKER PIL research line at the Faculty of Law of the University of Groningen hosted the symposium ‘Digitalisation of Justice: Perspectives from Germany and the Netherlands’ at the House of Connections in Groningen. The symposium brought together scholars from both jurisdictions across four fields of law: private international law, civil procedure, criminal procedure, and administrative procedural law. They were joined by practitioners, emerging scholars, and more than 40 participants.
The symposium was guided by the central research question of the legal and institutional conditions under which the digitalisation of justice in Germany and the Netherlands can contribute to improved access to justice and to the quality of judicial decision-making, without undermining minimum standards of the rule of law and procedural guarantees.
The choice of a bilateral, cross-doctrinal design was deliberate: national legislators and courts are responding to digital transformation at remarkably different speeds, and innovative solutions to shared problems have often already emerged in the other legal system or in a neighbouring field of law. This report focusses on the conference’s discussions around private international law, summarizing the cross-cutting themes that emerged over the course of the day. A full report will be published in the Springer-volume ‘Digitalisation of Justice: Perspectives from Germany and the Netherlands’ in the course of 2027.
Opening and Keynote
The symposium was opened by Dr. Benedikt Schmitz (University of Groningen), who described the critical crossroads at which the ongoing digitalisation and our legal system find themselves, with the latter lagging behind when it comes to adjusting existing norms to changing realities. He raised central questions about the use of AI in the legal field and its relation to the rule of law and the principle of fairness. His opening was followed by welcome addresses by Prof. Dr. Wilbert Kolkman, Dean of the Faculty of Law, and Prof. Dr. Jouke de Vries, President of the University Board. In a humorous way, Kolkman criticised what the support of AI has done to the quality of academic legal papers by describing the evolution from the printing press, to pressing print on a computer, to the ‘depressing print’ that he called the papers of students, who are not the only ones handing in AI-generated texts that lack the meaning human-produced work entails. De Vries emphasised the importance of cross-border cooperation to tackle complex societal issues that cannot be approached from one discipline or jurisdiction alone. He further encouraged incorporating the knowledge of civil society organisations into academic debate through transdisciplinary research.
In his keynote address, Dr. Benjamin Grimm (Minister of Justice and for Digitalisation, Federal State of Brandenburg, Germany) offered the perspective of a Land justice ministry engaged in the practical implementation of digital justice. Even in an integrated European Union, he observed, judicial matters continue to reflect national traditions. Precisely for that reason it is necessary to look across borders and learn from one another. Brandenburg was the first German Land to combine the portfolios of justice and digitalisation in a single ministry – a deliberate pairing of a traditionally conservative judiciary with a policy field associated with progress, modernity and new ideas, a combination for which Estonia in particular served as a point of reference. In Brandenburg, responsibilities for digitalisation projects, including their funding, have been consolidated centrally – a choice Grimm defended while acknowledging the tension it creates with Germany’s federal structure.
Grimm placed these institutional choices in a sobering context: in a recent survey, only 15 per cent of citizens said that their expectations of the modern, digital administration were met, and only one in three people expressed trust in their government. Digitalisation, he argued, is therefore not merely a matter of efficient administration but of countering fears and proving that the State remains capable of being future-proof. The State, he insisted, must meet the expectations citizens bring from a world in which goods ordered online arrive the next day. This idea, however, would require central coordination beyond Brandenburg to ensure successful implementation.
For the judiciary, Grimm identified the digital availability of files as the indispensable foundation: the use of AI cannot be accepted, let alone succeed, while courts remain stuck with analogue files. The introduction of the electronic case file, imposed on a sometimes reluctant judiciary, is in his words not even digitalisation but ‘merely electrification’ and thus a first, but certainly not a last, step.
Grimm closed with a plea for coordination: the tools currently in use across the federal states are outdated and scattered, and all ministers of justice are working together towards a uniform software solution and unified architectural standards to fundamentally reform the judiciary’s use of digitalisation. The judiciary, he said, is standing at the dawn of a digital revolution. Several of his themes – the loss of citizens’ trust in a slow-moving administration and the question of how much decision-making may be delegated to machines – returned throughout the day, most directly in Panel 4 and in the closing plenary discussion.
First panel: Private International LawThe first panel, moderated by Benedikt Schmitz (Groningen) and sponsored by the Royal Netherlands Society of International Law, addressed the digitalisation of cross-border civil justice. Susanne Lilian Gössl (Bonn) opened with an assessment of digital justice and cross-border proceedings in Germany, where the progress of digitalisation is slow (and slower still in cross-border cases), marked by general scepticism and uncertainty. Alongside structural features of the field – the applicable law follows the lex fori, the strongest impulses come from EU law (which is nonetheless cautious to interfere with Member States’ procedural law), and the eCodex system provides decentralised, interoperable communication between Member State courts – she pointed to concrete hurdles such as the beA special electronic mailbox, which makes it difficult for foreign attorneys to file cases in Germany, and to courts’ initial resistance to online participation of parties abroad. However, what was once regarded as an affront to the other State’s sovereignty is now increasingly accepted if parties voluntarily participate. Gössl ended by briefly touching upon enforceable and non-enforceable mediation and arbitration agreements and the challenges Germany’s paper-based approaches pose in international settings.
Kirsten Henckel (Groningen) asked whether we can really digitalise justice – and whether courts can actually use the new technologies. EU digitalisation efforts, she argued, largely digitise existing processes while creating problems of their own, relating to, inter alia, privacy, AI, and non-EU service providers. Presenting collective actions as a Dutch tradition of forty years, most recently under the 2020 WAMCA (Dutch Act on the resolution of mass damages in collective actions), she made the Netherlands a case study for access to justice in a digitised world, and raised the question which law prevails when jurisdiction must be established under both the Brussels Ia Regulation and the GDPR as lex specialis.
Frederick Rieländer (Bremen) began his presentation from a comparative perspective: the most technologically advanced countries were at the forefront of digitalising justice, and the EU is now committed to digitalising cross-border proceedings, with the Commission wanting all relevant processes to be digital by the end of the decade. He emphasised that digital tools can reshape the handling and administration of cross-border litigation in the EU, but the legal framework needs to be refined through uniform European standards to unlock these transformative abilities without undermining the procedural rights of users. Rieländer distinguished between German pilot projects of organisational assistance systems, decision-support systems and (semi-)automated ‘case deciders’, the former two already in use, as illustrated by a tool that helps judges detect hallucinated citations in lengthy party submissions. He extended his analysis to immersive technologies (virtual, augmented and mixed reality) as new evidentiary possibilities across borders, not yet employed in most EU Member States. As a way forward, Rieländer pointed to the European Law Institute and UNIDROIT as potential drafters of a soft-law instrument to create rules on the use of AI that can set minimum standard while the digitalisation within the EU continues to move forward.
The ensuing discussion turned to international arbitration, which in some respects has moved faster than the courts: the Dutch Arbitration Act, it was noted, already allowed for digital hearings during the COVID-19 pandemic. On the use of AI in arbitration, a consensus emerged to remain cautious: because AI can never be impartial, decision-making should not be entrusted to it. As a tool, however, it is of great value and may eventually enable arbitrators to draw on more information than any human could; provided its (confirmation) bias is overcome. Two practical constraints were added: AI will only be integrated into practice if it is simple to use, whereas practitioners currently face a difficult choice between too many confusing tools. Moreover, most Member States are too small to gather sufficient data to train large language models on their own – an observation that led back to the panel’s emphasis on common standards within a European legal framework.
Second panel: Civil ProcedureThe second panel, moderated by Patrick Koerts (Groningen), turned to domestic civil procedure. Gralf-Peter Calliess (Bremen) traced Germany’s history of digital false starts – from a digital signature too secure ever to be affordable to the repeatedly postponed electronic case file – and remained sceptical of the online-procedure pilots introduced in December 2025 in the new Book 12 of the German Code of Civil Procedure: digitalisation, he argued, requires a change of mindset from adjudication as an exercise of sovereign power (Hoheit) to adjudication as a judicial service (Dienstleistung). Pauline Ernste (Nijmegen) examined judicial fact-finding via Google and ChatGPT under Dutch procedural law: LLM-derived facts cannot qualify as facts of common knowledge, the duty to tell the truth requires parties to disclose their own use of AI, and AI literacy must be structurally embedded in legal training.
Third panel: Criminal ProcedureIn the third panel, moderated by Glenn Thodé (Groningen), Hannah Ofterdinger (Hamburg) took stock of the digitalisation of German criminal procedure and its obstacles, concluding that the question is not whether, but how we digitalise. Dorris de Vocht (Tilburg) asked why the Netherlands treats remote hearings as a last resort and argued that the assumption that meaningful participation requires physical presence should itself be questioned: procedural fairness should not – and does not have to – depend on whether a hearing is physical or remote. Laura Peters (Groningen) presented the AIWITNESS project and the FAIR method, contending that criminal procedural principles must guide the design of AI systems from the outset She concluded that criminal procedural law is moving from ex post review to procedural design.
Fourth panel: Administrative ProcedureThe fourth panel, moderated by Ida Varosanec (Groningen), addressed administrative procedural law. Sarah Rachut (Braunschweig) mapped Germany’s asymmetric regulation of administrative authorities and courts, presented survey evidence from the TITAN project on the use of AI within the administration, and identified a regulatory gap: fully automated administrative acts are regulated, AI-assisted decision preparation is not. Sofia Ranchordás (Tilburg/Rome) argued that the procedural safeguards of administrative law – the right to be heard, the duty to state reasons, the right of access, and judicial review – are built on the paper logic of the file, which digital transformation dissolves. She noted how discretion migrates from the decision to the design, and the task is not to retrofit, but to rethink. The following lively discussion closed on a question that hung over much of the day: what do we do with the law that was not made for digitalisation?
Closing Session and OutlookThe closing session opened with elevator pitches by five emerging scholars. Of most direct interest to readers of this blog, Mustafa Can (Groningen) turned to the law applicable to civil liability in EU token markets, contrasting public money with digital assets issued by private institutions. Individual proceedings are possible, but the cross-border setting creates an inherent foreign element, leading him to emphasise the importance of simplification. The remaining pitches ranged from a digital ‘zeroth instance’ for German civil proceedings and its constitutional tensions (Noelle Frick, Speyer), via automation bias and the limits of human oversight in AI-based evidence verification (Sabrina Pölle, Passau) and the missing mechanisms for reviewing the decision logic of administrative tools (Constanze Rothermel, Berlin), to algorithm-driven benefit sanctioning in Denmark and the Netherlands (Anne Spijkstra, Tilburg).
In the plenary discussion that followed, the threads of the day converged on a recurring theme: humans in the judiciary were not perfect before AI either. The discussion cautioned against measuring machines by a standard of perfection that humans have never met. A second observation reached back to the fourth panel: the digital is built on top of a long paper trail, and digital justice inherits the logic, and the legacy, of the file.
Viewed across the four panels, the relevant divide did not always run between Germany and the Netherlands, but frequently between fields of law: Germany’s infrastructure-first trajectory has repeatedly stumbled over its own thoroughness, while in the Netherlands the frontline questions lie further downstream: judges googling and parties submitting ChatGPT-written claims. The tension between efficiency gains and procedural guarantees returned in each panel in different ways. For private international law, it took the form of the question whether cross-border digitalisation can proceed without uniform European standards protecting the procedural rights of users – standards all the more necessary because most Member States are too small to develop trustworthy systems alone.
How much of legal decision-making can be left to AI was answered formally (any final decisions must remain human) but not substantively. Finally, the question what we do with the law that was not made for digitalisation remained open. Perhaps the day’s most consistent answer was voiced almost identically at its beginning and its end: the electronic case file is ‘merely electrification’, a first step but not a last (Grimm). Now, the task is not to retrofit, but to rethink (Ranchordás). An edited volume with contributions by the panellists and emerging scholars, taking up these questions in greater depth, will be published by Springer in the course of 2027 under the title ‘Digitalisation of Justice: Perspectives from Germany and the Netherlands’.
Following an earlier call on this blog, the Civil Justice Conversations Series organised by the European Civil Justice Centre will kick off on 11 September at 10 am CEST. At this first session Benedikt Schmitz (Assistant Professor of Private International Law and Comparative Contract Law, University of Groningen) will present on ‘ Cross-Border Disputes Under the Revised Consumer ADR Directive: A Renaissance?’. After initial comments by discussant Emma van Gelder (Assistant Professor of Private Law at Utrecht University), the floor is open for discussion and exchange.
Registration link available here.
Further information on the series is available here: Civil Justice Conversations Planning
The fifth annual Asian Private International Law Academy (APILA) Conference will take place in person at Sungkyunkwan University in Seoul (South Korea) on Saturday 12 (Day 1) and Sunday 13 (Day 2) December 2026. The APILA Conference will be in the form of two days of roundtable discussions in English. Persons whose abstracts have been selected (see next paragraph) will deliver oral presentations in turn on Days 1 and 2. Each presentation will run for about 15 minutes and be followed by a discussion of about 10 to 15 minutes in which participants will have the opportunity to comment on the presentation. The objective of the APILA Conference is to assist presenters to refine prospective research papers with a view to eventual publication.
Persons who are interested in delivering presentations at the APILA Conference are invited to submit abstracts of their proposals in English. While proposals may be on any topic, they should (1) focus on private international law issues and (2) somehow relate to Asia (broadly defined). Further, while every effort will be made to fit in as many presentations as possible, given the constraints of time, it may not be feasible to accept all proposals. Inevitably, in that case, some selection may be necessary. APILA apologises in advance for this. Everything else being equal, priority will be given to proposals exploring cutting edge questions (albeit not necessarily definitively answering them) in one or more of the following areas: (1) international dispute resolution (especially international arbitration and mediation), (2) data protection and data privacy, (3) competition law (including within digital markets), (4) family law (including succession), (5) intellectual property rights, (6) Islamic private international law, (7) environmental issues (including climate change), (8) business and human rights, (9) cryptocurrency and the blockchain, (10) sanctions and counter-sanctions, (11) the economic analysis of private international law rules, and (12) artificial intelligence.
Abstracts are to be submitted by email to apilaconference@gmail.com by Saturday 24 October 2026. Persons whose abstracts have been accepted will be so informed by Saturday 31 October 2026. They are thereafter requested to submit their presentations in PowerPoint format or (if the presentation is in the form of a draft paper) in pdf format by email to apilaconference@gmail.com by Saturday 21 November 2026. All PowerPoint presentations and draft papers received will be circulated in advance electronically among APILA Conference participants. Participants will thus be able to read into the topics to be discussed in advance of the APILA Conference. Oral presentations can then focus on succinct statements of key takeaways and more time can be allotted to discussion.
Please note that APILA’s available funding is limited. Therefore, in the normal course of events, APILA regrets that it will not be able to provide funding for the travel and accommodation expenses of presenters and attendees.
by Marta Liduma, LLB candidate in International and European Law, University of Groningen
A Dutch actor dies in March. By April, his likeness starts to appear widely. Generated videos show him promoting a supplement, and one clip ends with a link to a shop selling shirts printed with his face. A single man in Germany creates all of this, in large quantities, using a dozen deceased performers.
Who can sue, and in which court?
Dutch law answers the first question readily. Article 21 of the Auteurswet allows publication to be resisted when a reasonable interest of the portrayed person, or after his death of one of his surviving relatives, opposes it. Article 25a, in the same paragraph of the Act, identifies those relatives as the parents, the spouse or registered partner and the children, each of whom may act independently of the others. Article 21 addresses whoever holds the copyright for the portrait, which poses a problem for a generated video that may have no author at all. However, Article 35 makes the publication of a portrait without entitlement an offence for anybody, and Dutch practice has long read the two provisions together. German law follows a similar design. Section 22 of the Kunsturhebergesetz (KUG) requires the consent of the family of the deceased (Angehörige) for ten years after death, and defines them as the surviving spouse or registered partner and the children, failing whom the parents.
The second question leads to the Court of Justice and its judgment on 18 June 2026 in Idziski (C-232/25). The concentrating head of Article 7(2) Brussels Ia puts two questions to a single individual. Does the content identify you, and where are your interests centred? Death creates separation between these questions, and current case law keeps them apart.
The custodial patternBoth provisions grant the post-mortem entitlement to a closed class of relatives, a group defined by their relationship to the deceased and not by any interest in the estate they left. A disinherited son may object, while the residuary legatee under the will stands outside the class entirely. Such relatives are best described as custodians, since the entitlement is all they hold of the deceased.
The German decade deserves a moment’s attention. Since section 22 of the KUG requires consent for ten years after death, the Federal Court of Justice has extended this same period by analogy to the pecuniary side of the post-mortem personality right in kinski-klaus.de (BGH, 5 October 2006, I ZR 277/03, BGHZ 169, 193), while the dignitary side endures beyond the ten-year mark. German law thus surrenders its transmissible part ten years after death. What survives is the dignitary part, which rests on constitutional grounds and is exercised by whoever is entitled to act for the deceased.
Whose interest the custodian asserts is settled in Germany and open in the Netherlands. German law divides the post-mortem personality right in two. The dignitary components rest upon Article 1(1) of the Basic Law, the right to free development of personality under Article 2(1) belonging to the living alone, and after death they are exercised by a person entitled to act on the deceased’s behalf (Wahrnehmungsberechtigter), in the case of images the Angehörige of section 22. That person holds defensive claims alone, and no claim for damages (BGH, 6 December 2005, VI ZR 265/04, BGHZ 165, 203, restated in kinski-klaus.de). The pecuniary components are separate. They are inheritable and pass instead to the heirs (Erben), who may bring damages claims in respect of them (Marlene Dietrich, BGHZ 143, 214), an allocation the Federal Constitutional Court held in 2006 (BVerfG, 22 August 2006, 1 BvR 1168/04) to be consistent with section 22, that provision governing consent rather than commercial value. Article 21 of the Auteurswet is drafted the other way about, speaking of a reasonable interest of the surviving relative herself.
The Dutch question may be left open, since the two readings fail for different reasons. Upon the first, the claimant asserts her own interest, and everything the video discloses belongs to her husband. Upon the second, the content identifies the person whose interest is asserted, and the difficulty moves to the place. Either reading leaves the concentrating head requiring one person to satisfy both of its conditions, a burden that under a custodial statute falls to two.
The existing commentary has been occupied with a different question. Giacomo Marola reads Idziski as a judgment of continuity in his contribution to the EAPIL Blog. Tobias Lutzi, at ConflictofLaws.net, entitled his note Nothing to See Here. Both readings are sound. The difficulty is that a rule which the Court has reaffirmed without qualifying it is now settled law for situations nobody has yet brought before it. A parallel debate has been running in Denmark and the Netherlands, where legislators have considered giving a person a statutory right in their own likeness, and it turns on who ought to hold such a right once its subject has died, and for how long. Neither literature has yet asked what follows once that question receives the answer the existing statutes already give it, which is to place the entitlement in the hands of somebody whom the content passes over.
Two bounds before going further. Neither reform is in force. The Danish bill, which would add new sections 65a and 73a to the Copyright Act and protect a person’s appearance and voice for fifty years after death, went out to consultation in July 2025 and was notified to the Commission under the TRIS procedure that October. The standstill ran into February 2026, when the Commission issued comments, and the entry date of 31 March 2026 written into the draft passed with the bill still not introduced. By February the Ministry of Culture had already moved its expectation to 1 July 2026, and a general election in March then removed the introduction slot as well. The Dutch initiative bill prepared by the member Dral, which would create a neighbouring right covering deepfakes of living and deceased persons, was consulted on between October and December 2025, and in May 2026 the Commissie Auteursrecht advised abandoning the proposed neighbouring right as an unsuitable instrument. Its author has since left the House of Representatives, and the government has said that it is for her successor to decide whether the project continues (Aanhangsel Handelingen II 2025/26, no 1351). The custodial provisions therefore govern. If either of the reforms arrives and if its related-right characterisation were to be recognised as an autonomous matter of Union law, the claim would move out of personality law and fall outside the scope of what follows. Secondly, if the defendant is domiciled outside the Union, then Article 6(1) applies together with the residual national rules of the forum.
What Idziski allocatesThe judgment was given under Regulation 44/2001, the Polish proceedings having begun in 2013, and at paragraphs 26 and 27 the Court confirmed that its reading applies equally to Article 7(2) of Brussels Ia.
Upon the concentrating head the Court restated Mittelbayerischer Verlag (C-800/19). The courts of a claimant’s centre of interests may hear a claim for the entirety of the damage only where the content carries verifiable and objectively ascertainable material identifying that person, directly or indirectly, as an individual (paragraph 50). Indirect identification requires certainty, by reason of “attributes which are specific to them and which distinguish them from all other individuals” (paragraph 55). Membership of a defined group falls short of that standard, even where the group itself is unmistakable (paragraphs 53 and 54).
Consider the widow suing upon her own interest. Everything the video displays belongs to her husband, and the very feature that makes her claim worth bringing defeats her under the test.
The representative reading raises a different problem. If she exercises the deceased’s right, identification is satisfied since the content identifies the actor with precision. The centre of interests must then be located, and it belongs to a man who has died. eDate and Bolagsupplysningen both proceed upon a claimant with a life to be centred somewhere, and substituting the claimant’s own would detach the connecting factor from the person the content concerns.
Paragraph 56 confirms the difficulty rather than resolving it. The requirement exists so that the issuer of content may ascertain the centre of interests of those who are its subject, and predict where proceedings against him will lie. An uploader who generates a video of a well known actor may discover within a minute where that actor lived. The daughter’s residence remains obscure to him, and under Article 25a there may be four custodians acting independently, with four centres of interests between them. Predictability is served by asking after the person depicted, while the rule asks after the person suing.
The mosaic head remains available, and the point should be acknowledged. Paragraph 64 confirms, following Gtflix Tv, that compensation can be divided and recovered in each Member State for the damage caused there. Paragraph 67 applies as much to Z.R., who failed the identification test and could still recover in Poland. Both custodial provisions describe a territorial wrong. Section 22 covers distribution and public display, while Article 21 deals with openbaarmaking. This means the injury is spread across the states where the video was viewed. Nevertheless, the concession does nothing for the German dignitary custodian. Because his claim is defensive, a damages jurisdiction is of no use to him, and the removal he seeks lies with a court that paragraph 67 places elsewhere.
Ruling 2 limits what survives. A court with territorially limited authority hears divisible claims and does not have jurisdiction over a non-pecuniary remedy that seeks to correct information placed online (paragraph 67). This is based on the indivisibility principle from Bolagsupplysningen (paragraph 48). Removal is the remedy that answers content that can be regenerated faster than damages can be assessed. Lutzi adds that such non-pecuniary remedies as do survive face poor chances of being enforced in the defendant’s own Member State.
What remainsParagraph 47 reassures that a claimant may always bring an action for damages covering all the harm caused, at the defendant’s domicile or at the place of the causal event. For a corporate co-producer, the two are distinct and useful. For a single uploader, they have the same address. Article 8(1) offers a joinder that these facts fail to satisfy. Uploaders who share a subject and a model are too loosely connected to risk irreconcilable judgments. Therefore, custodians must file a separate action for each uploader in that uploader’s own courts, based on whatever conflict rules the forum has in place. Personality claims are not covered by Rome II according to Article 1(2)(g). For this type of claim, the concentrating head of Article 7(2) leads to dispersal.
The merchandise version follows the same pattern. Shirts with a dead actor’s face are the paradigm the provisions were drafted for, unambiguously commercial and readily quantified. Dutch law has long recognised that a reasonable interest under Article 21 may be commercial, as the Hoge Raad addressed in Cruijff v Tirion (14 June 2013, ECLI:NL:HR:2013:CA2788). The shirt, however, depicts the actor alone.
One reply claims that the difficulty is merely academic, since notice and action can resolve such disputes, and questions of jurisdiction rarely come up. The argument holds so long as the platform agrees. Under Article 16(3) of the Digital Services Act, a notice is considered to give rise to actual knowledge when it permits a diligent provider to recognise the illegality without needing detailed legal examination. A notice sent by a Dutch widow, using a Dutch provision against a German uploader, in a field where applicable law is determined by residual national rules, is precisely the case that requires such an examination, and so falls outside the provision. Consequently, the notice keeps the provider where Article 6 of that Regulation found it, whatever other circumstances may later establish knowledge. Notice and action have concealed the defect instead of curing it.
Each part of the argument is old. Indivisibility dates back to 2017, and the identification requirement comes from 2021. Their combined effect on a claimant outside the contemplation of both is the novelty.
Anchoring the forum to the decedentThe solution proposed here aims to anchor the connecting factor to the deceased rather than to the person suing. This way, the concentrating forum shifts to the last centre of interests of the person the content concerns. Such a rule provides the predictability that paragraph 56 needs, locates the proceedings where evidence of the deceased’s reputation can be found, and restores the pairing that the head presupposes.
The concept allows for this development. In paragraph 39, the Court notes that the centre-of-interests option exists in the interests of the sound administration of justice rather than for the specific protection of the applicant. This clarifies why, in Bolagsupplysningen, the natural or legal character of the claimant was not important. A head of jurisdiction serving the administration of justice may perfectly well locate its connecting factor elsewhere than in the claimant. It should be found where the dispute belongs. For content concerning one identified deceased person, that location is where that person’s life was centred.
The proposal needs a development in doctrine rather than just application of it. The custodial provisions work by designation instead of transmission, and Article 25a allows four possible custodians to exercise independently, which resists simplification to a single inherited position. Lutzi and Marola both suggest that this kind of recalibration belongs to the recast of Brussels Ia rather than to the Court, and they are probably correct on this general point. The challenge is timing. Custodial claims will come with the next well known death, whereas the recast will take some more years to arrive.
The alternative solution is a private one and stems from a situation before Idziski. In the case of Stichting Right to Consumer Justice and Stichting App Stores Claims (C-34/24, 2 December 2025), the Court allowed representative foundations, asserting their own right to defend the collective interests of a group of unidentified but identifiable persons, to rely upon Article 7(2), a development which Burkhard Hess referred to as the creation of a new forum actoris through judicial lawmaking. Idziski continues this approach at paragraphs 57 to 59. A family could thus set up a foundation in order to defend the actor’s dignity, reputation and memory and to litigate through that foundation.
The course is inferior to the proposal made above even where it succeeds, since the availability of a forum would then depend upon whether a family possessed the means and the foresight to incorporate. It very likely fails in any event. The operative ruling speaks of a group whose members form a closed category, and a single deceased individual falls outside that description. Paragraph 59 grounds the exception in predictability, and the exception was predictable in Idziski because the series addressed the unit directly, whereas an uploader generating at volume remains ignorant of a foundation’s existence and of where it operates. The exception arose, moreover, in a Polish case concerning the collective dignity of a wartime unit, and may generalise less readily than its wording invites.
The question for the Court, when a national court eventually puts it, is whether the identification requirement in Article 7(2) attaches to the claimant or to the person whose interest is asserted. Idziski assumed the two to be one person, as the earlier case law had done, because on the facts of all those cases they were. Under a custodial statute they are always two.
AI was used in the creation of this post for feedback and research. All writing and analysis is the author’s own.
On Tuesday, September 8, 2026, the Hamburg Max Planck Institute will host its monthly virtual workshop Current Research in Private International Law at 11:00 a.m. – 12:30 p.m. (CEST).
Xandra Kramer (Erasmus University Rotterdam & Utrecht University) will speak, in English, about the topic
“Cross-Border Collective Litigation in Tech Cases: Is the European Framework up to the Challenge?”
Collective actions have gained traction in Europe, boosted by the Representative Actions Directive and enabled by third-party litigation funding in several jurisdictions. These increasingly involve cases against multinational big tech companies operating in Europe. The current private international law framework, however, is not designed to address the challenges of these complex cases. The presentation will discuss how the European Court of Justice and Dutch courts have primarily handled questions of international jurisdiction and to what extent the existing legislative framework needs amendment.
The presentation will be followed by open discussion. All are welcome. More information and sign-up here.
If you want to be invited to these events in the future, please write to veranstaltungen@mpipriv.de.
This review concentrates principally on the private international law dimensions of Andrew Dickinson and Alexander Thompson’s The State Immunity Act 1978. Although state immunity is fundamentally a subject of public international law, the legislation operates at the point where public and private international law intersect. It determines whether the English courts may adjudicate disputes involving foreign states, how proceedings may be served, and whether judgments or arbitral awards may be recognised and enforced against state property. These questions are of direct importance to private international lawyers, particularly in transnational commercial, employment, property and arbitration disputes.
The authors bring considerable practical expertise to the subject. As the preface indicates, their analysis is informed not only by academic study but also by professional experience of state-immunity litigation. The result is a specialist and authoritative treatment of a technically demanding statute. The chapters generally combine legislative history, an overview of the relevant statutory provisions, and a detailed examination of their judicial application.
Chapter 1 explains the historical development of the State Immunity Act 1978 and the United Kingdom’s movement from absolute to restrictive immunity. Under restrictive immunity, a foreign state remains immune in respect of sovereign acts but may be subject to jurisdiction in relation to commercial and other non-sovereign activities. This distinction provides the organising principle for much of the Act and gives the subject its particular importance for private international law.
Chapter 2 is especially significant because it situates the 1978 Act within the wider legal framework. The Act is mandatory and generally supersedes the pre-existing common-law rules governing state immunity. Although it was influenced by the European Convention on State Immunity 1972, the United Kingdom courts are not required to interpret it as if it faithfully reproduced every aspect of that Convention. At the same time, the Act should, so far as its language permits, be interpreted consistently with customary international law, on the presumption that Parliament did not intend to place the United Kingdom in breach of its international obligations.
The United Nations Convention on Jurisdictional Immunities of States and Their Property 2004 may also inform the interpretation of the Act. It is not, however, binding for this purpose, nor can all its provisions automatically be treated as definitive statements of customary international law. The authors therefore demonstrate that statutory interpretation in this field requires careful engagement with legislation, treaties, customary international law and judicial authority.
The chapter also distinguishes state immunity from related regimes. The State Immunity Act primarily concerns the immunity of foreign states and incorporates exceptions associated with restrictive immunity. The Diplomatic Privileges Act 1964 and Consular Relations Act 1968, by contrast, protects particular persons in the performance of their official functions and is governed by separate legislations. Special missions and international organisations are similarly subject to distinct statutory regimes.
The discussion of human rights identifies a persistent tension between access to justice and respect for sovereign immunity. The United Kingdom courts have generally placed substantial weight on the latter. Provisions of the Act have nevertheless been challenged under Article 6 of the European Convention on Human Rights 1998. Declarations of incompatibility have been made in the employment context, most notably in Benkharbouche v Embassy of Sudan and Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs v Benkharbouche, while in Kingdom of Spain v Lydia Lorenzo [2024] EWCA Civ 1602, the UK Court of Appeal ruled that a foreign state cannot claim state immunity in an employment discrimination and unfair dismissal case brought by an administrative embassy worker. These cases show that state immunity is not merely a procedural technicality: it may determine whether an individual has any effective opportunity to vindicate substantive rights.
The book also explains the post-Brexit relationship between state immunity and European Union law. EU law no longer has the supremacy it previously enjoyed within the United Kingdom, although retained or assimilated EU law and the European Union (Withdrawal) Act 2018 remain relevant to the historical development and present operation of some rules.
Equally important is the distinction between state immunity and the foreign act-of-state doctrine. Both rest, in part, on ideas of sovereign equality and the independence of states, but foreign act of state is a common-law doctrine rather than a product of the 1978 Act. The doctrines should therefore not be treated as interchangeable.
For private international lawyers, the book’s most important conceptual point is that the 1978 Act limits the adjudicatory jurisdiction that a United Kingdom court would otherwise possess. It does not itself confer jurisdiction. A claimant must first establish jurisdiction under the ordinary rules of civil procedure and private international law. Only then does the separate question arise whether the foreign state is immune from the exercise of that jurisdiction. This distinction between the existence of jurisdiction and immunity from its exercise is fundamental.
Chapter 4 examines the general immunity from adjudicatory jurisdiction. The statutory scheme leans strongly towards protecting foreign states: the claimant bears the burden of establishing an applicable exception to immunity, even where the foreign state declines to appear. This may present a considerable practical obstacle because the facts necessary to establish an exception may be difficult for a private claimant to obtain without the state’s participation.
Chapter 5 considers submission to jurisdiction. A choice-of-court agreement in favour of the courts of any part of the United Kingdom may constitute a waiver of immunity, whereas a choice-of-law clause does not. This distinction is particularly important in drafting international contracts. Selecting English law does not, without more, amount to consent by a foreign state to the jurisdiction of the English courts.
Submission may also occur through a treaty, convention or other international agreement, but it must be express. A state may submit after the dispute has arisen, and although such submission must be express, it need not necessarily be in writing. Submission may additionally result from instituting proceedings, advancing a counterclaim or participating in proceedings beyond what is necessary to assert immunity. The act of submission must be duly authorised by the state. Once valid submission occurs, the state is generally placed in the position of an ordinary litigant for the relevant proceedings. Importantly, however, submission to adjudication does not necessarily amount to consent to enforcement against state property.
Chapter 6 addresses commercial transactions and associated obligations, including contracts to be performed in the United Kingdom. The commercial-transactions exception lies at the heart of restrictive immunity and is shaped by both the earlier common law and the European Convention. It is particularly relevant to private international law because disputes concerning the character of a transaction, contractual performance and the territorial connection with the United Kingdom may determine whether immunity is available.
Chapter 7 concerns employment contracts. As the authors observe, section 4 may justifiably claim to be among the most controversial provisions of the Act. The central authority is Benkharbouche, in which statutory restrictions on claims by state employees were held incompatible with Article 6 of the European Convention on Human Rights and, at the relevant time, Article 47 of the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights. The resulting changes strengthened employees’ access to justice. The chapter is particularly valuable because cross-border employment disputes frequently bring together jurisdiction, applicable law, mandatory employment protection, human rights and the public international law of immunity.
Chapters 8 to 14 examine the statutory exceptions relating to personal injury and damage to property; ownership, possession and use of property; intellectual and industrial property; companies and other collective bodies; arbitration; admiralty proceedings; and taxation. The property provisions remove immunity in defined proceedings concerning property, subject to protections for premises used for diplomatic purposes. The intellectual-property exception reflects restrictive immunity but has generated comparatively little reported litigation.
The arbitration chapter is of special interest to commercial lawyers. Where a state has agreed in writing to submit a dispute to arbitration, immunity from the supervisory or supporting jurisdiction of the courts is generally removed in relation to the arbitration. This provision has been frequently litigated. Nevertheless, the existence of an arbitration agreement and the removal of adjudicatory immunity do not automatically permit execution against state assets. Parties dealing with states must therefore distinguish carefully between consent to arbitration, consent to court proceedings connected with arbitration and waiver of immunity from enforcement.
Chapter 15 examines service of process and default judgments. These procedural matters have substantial private international law significance because the validity of service and the protection afforded to an absent foreign state may determine whether proceedings can advance and whether a judgment will ultimately be effective.
Chapter 16 addresses enforcement jurisdiction, perhaps the area in which the special position of a sovereign state is most pronounced. Coercive measures—including injunctions, contempt proceedings, orders compelling employee reinstatement and execution against state property—are generally considered inappropriate without a sufficient statutory basis. Even where a claimant has successfully established jurisdiction and obtained judgment, enforcement may therefore remain impossible.
The principal exceptions arise where the state has expressly and unequivocally waived immunity from enforcement or where the relevant property is in use, or intended for use, for commercial purposes. A waiver of immunity from adjudication should not lightly be treated as a waiver of immunity from execution. This separation has major practical consequences: a claimant may win the legal dispute yet be unable to obtain the benefit of the judgment. The chapter reinforces the need for contracts involving states to contain carefully drafted and distinct waivers addressing jurisdiction, interim relief and enforcement.
Chapter 17 discusses the meaning of “the State” and the treatment of separate entities, central banks and constituent territories. Whether a body forms part of the state or is a separate entity may determine both the applicable test for immunity and the availability of assets for enforcement. Central-bank property receives particularly strong protection. These classification questions are often decisive in cross-border litigation, especially where commercial activity is conducted through state-owned corporations or other legally distinct bodies.
The remaining chapters address the power to amend Part I, savings and excluded matters, statutory interpretation, foreign judgments, heads of state and related persons, and certificates concerning facts of state. Chapter 21’s treatment of foreign judgments is particularly relevant to private international law, although the statutory mechanism considered there appears never to have been used against the United Kingdom. More generally, the relationship between foreign judgments and state immunity raises difficult questions: recognition of a judgment, adjudicatory jurisdiction over the state and execution against state property are separate stages and may be governed by different requirements.
Overall, this is a highly specialised work. A sound knowledge of public international law—and, to a lesser extent, private international law—is helpful if the reader is to appreciate its analysis fully. Yet the book is also valuable precisely because it demonstrates that the boundary between the two disciplines is permeable. State immunity is founded in public international law, but it operates through the machinery of private litigation. It affects jurisdiction, choice-of-court agreements, employment disputes, arbitration, service, foreign judgments and enforcement.
Before reading the book, I was sceptical about the practical force of public international law, particularly because powerful states sometimes appear able to disregard its principles without meaningful consequences. This book has caused me to reconsider that view. Public international law is not confined to prominent disputes about war or territorial sovereignty. In the field of jurisdictional immunities, it performs an important stabilising function by mediating between access to national courts and the sovereign equality of states. It thereby contributes to international comity and the orderly conduct of relations among states.
For a private international lawyer, the book’s lasting lesson is that ordinary rules of transnational litigation cannot be applied to foreign states without accounting for their sovereign character. Conversely, public international law principles of immunity acquire practical effect through domestic rules governing civil proceedings. Dickinson and Thompson’s work illuminates that relationship with considerable depth. It merits close attention from practitioners and scholars working on cross-border litigation, international commercial arbitration, employment disputes involving states, and the recognition and enforcement of judgments and awards. It is also a book to which I expect to return as my understanding of the relationship between public and private international law continues to develop.
The Annual Conference of the American Association of Private International Law (ASADIP) will take place from 20 to 23 October 2026 in San Salvador (El Salvador). It is entitled the transformative spirit of Private International Law (“La vocación transformadora del Derecho Internacional Privado”).
The deadline to submit posters has been extended to 13 September 2026.
The European Commission has just opened a public consultation on the Regulation (EU) No 1215/2012 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 12 December 2012 on jurisdiction and the recognition and enforcement of judgments in civil and commercial matters (recast). A call for evidence is available here (which includes the three policy options being considered).
As indicated in the call for evidence, “[t]he aim of the consultation is to collect evidence, experiences and opinions from relevant stakeholders. These contributions will inform the analysis and assessment of the performance of the Regulation in its current form, the shortcomings identified, possible policy options to address them and their expected impacts.”
The public consultation will run from 1 September 2026 until 24 November 2026 (midnight Brussels time).
Susanne Gössl (Bonn), Frederick Rieländer (Bremen), and Benedikt Schmitz (Groningen) are happy to announce the creation of the European Group on the Digitalisation of Justice (EGDJ), a Chapter-based collaborative research network dedicated to analysing, evaluating, and shaping the ongoing digital transformation of judicial systems across Europe. It focuses on end-users, the judiciary as well as public administrations, and broader systematic changes.
EGDJ is intra-disciplinary, reflecting all areas of procedural law, including private international law. It is also comparative, as it delineates and compares existing approaches to the digitalisation of justice in Europe. Furthermore, it aims to provide EU-wide solutions that streamline digitalisation across the entire bloc.
Inspired by the insights of a comparative symposium held in Groningen in May 2026, EGDJ is launching with the Netherlands and Germany as its inaugural chapters. A chapter represents either a country or a region and is headed by one or more “leads”. Chapters must participate in group-wide projects but may also conduct their own national initiatives. Leads are responsible for convening a group of scholars, practitioners, and policymakers from all procedural fields of law (PIL, civil procedure, administrative procedure, criminal procedure). The number of members for each chapter is not limited. A Chapter can also be a pre-existing group on national level.
Given EGDJ’s clear aspiration to be truly European, we are now looking for interested persons to take on the position as lead for their country/region. For a list of already existing Chapters, see: https://egdj.org/who-we-are/. This list will be updated on a rolling basis.
After passing of the (soft!) deadline, we will convene an online meeting to discuss the ins and outs of this new European Group on the Digitalisation of Justice, inviting you to directly influence its future direction.
Express your interest before 1 October 2026
Please send an email to the EGDJ coordinators at info@egdj.org, containing the following:
The soft deadline to express your interest is before 1 October 2026. You may send an email at a later stage, too, but this might not be in time for the inaugural online meeting.
Questions?
If you have any questions, please contact Benedikt Schmitz at b.schmitz@rug.nl.
This announcement has kindly been provided by Matthias Lehmann and Lukas Petschning (University of Vienna).
On 30 November and 1 December 2026, the University of Vienna (Section for Comparative, Uniform and Private International Law) will host a conference entitled „Conflict of Laws in International Arbitration“.
Four thematic sessions will consider current issues revolving around the law governing (1) arbitrability and the arbitration agreement, (2) the conduct of proceedings, (3) privilege and document production, as well as (4) the merits of the dispute. The panels include academics and practitioners from Asia, Europe, and the Americas, with plenty of time reserved for discussion and networking.
Early winter is an optimal time to visit Vienna, and Christmas markets will already be in full swing. A Mulled Wine Reception in the evening of the first conference day will hopefully spread a festive mood among participants, and will be followed by the optional Conference Dinner at Vienna City Hall.
The preliminary agenda for the conference is now available here.
Registration is possible here and free of charge for full-time academics, students, and public servants; early-bird prices of EUR 80 are still available for other participants.
A charge of EUR 60 applies for the optional conference dinner.
We are looking forward to welcoming many of you to Vienna!
This announcement has kindly been shared with us by Roger Michalski (University of Oklahoma).
We are excited to announce that the Third Conflict of Laws Annual Workshop (CLAW3) will be hosted by the University of Pennsylvania Carey Law School on Friday, November 13, 2026 with a welcome dinner the night before. The CLAW aims to provide a forum to discuss new work in conflict of laws. The CLAW welcomes work on all aspects of conflict of laws, including civil, criminal, domestic and transnational conflict of laws. We welcome all those writing and working in the field of conflict of laws to attend.
Call for Papers
Those wishing to present a paper for discussion should submit a one-page abstract by September 18. Please email abstracts in Word or PDF format to roger.michalski@ou.edu, asimowitz@willamette.edu, and krooseve@law.upenn.edu.
Logistics
The CLAW will provide meals for registrants. Participants must cover travel and lodging costs. We will provide information about reasonably priced hotels as the date approaches.
Please do not hesitate to contact us if you have any questions.
All the best,
Kim, Roger, & Aaron
Keio University Law School in Tokyo (KLS) will be hosting a seminar entitled “Keio University Law School Book Series Seminar: Hart’s Studies in Private International Law – Asia” at Room 2B12 in South Building, Keio University Mita Campus, on Friday, 25 September 2026, from 3 to 4pm.
As the readers of ConflictofLaws.net are well aware, Studies in Private International Law – Asia is a forum for discussion and analysis of private international law issues in Asian jurisdictions, which is published under Hart’s celebrated series Studies in Private International Law. This seminar aims to provide an overview of the book series to the audience. Legal practitioners, government officials, academics and students who are interested in Asian law, private international law (broadly defined) and/or law and development are welcome to join.
The seminar will be followed by a networking tea, during which interested participants may explore future publication opportunities in the Studies in Private International Law – Asia series and other Hart Publishing outlets with Justice Anselmo Reyes (General Editor of Studies in Private International Law – Asia and International Judge at Singapore International Commercial Court) and Dr Roberta Bassi (Publisher at Hart Publishing).
There is no registration fee for this event, but registration is required for catering purposes. Visit here to register.
Programme
3.00pm Opening remarks by Professor Hiroshi MATSUO (Vice Dean and Director of Global LLM Program at Keio University Law School) 3.10pm Book series introduction by Justice Anselmo Reyes andDr Roberta Bassi 3.30pm Experience sharing by Dr Nobumichi TERAMURA (Associate Professor at Keio University Law School) 3.40pm Q&A 4pm End of the seminar and networking tea
Iran’s use of property measures against critics abroad is no longer hypothetical. In March 2026, Iran’s Prosecutor-General’s Office warned Iranians living abroad that support for, or cooperation with, states regarded by Iran as hostile could result in confiscation of their property. Reuters reported the warning on the basis of statements carried by Iranian state media.
The policy has since acquired a more concrete form. In May 2026, Amnesty International reported judicial orders to identify, freeze and seize bank accounts, properties and other assets belonging to persons accused of cooperating with “enemy states” or “hostile media”. Iranian authorities had reportedly announced measures affecting more than 750 persons inside and outside Iran, including journalists living abroad.
Administrative measures adopted in 2026 have also brought security screening into the use of consular powers of attorney. A circular concerning power of attorney issued abroad required inquiries where such instruments were presented in Iran and contemplated prosecutorial action where the grantor was identified as an opponent of the Islamic Republic abroad.
For present purposes, this situation can be described as political immobilization. Ownership may formally remain intact, while access to the legal mechanisms required to sell, mortgage, partition or administer the property is conditioned by political or security considerations.
The immediate concern is one of human rights. A separate question arises in private international law once the consequences of such measures are relied upon before courts outside Iran.
Property and the Lex SitusThe conventional starting point is the lex rei sitae. Article 966 of the Iranian Civil Code provides that possession, ownership and other rights over movable and immovable property are governed by the law of the country in which the property is situated. Proprietary questions concerning land situated in Iran therefore fall, in principle, under Iranian law.
That rule does not dispose of every dispute connected with Iranian property. A transaction involving land in Iran may also generate questions of contractual liability, restitution, succession, matrimonial property or insolvency before a foreign court. Those questions require separate characterization and may be governed by a law other than the law governing title itself.
Suppose, for example, that an Iranian resident abroad contracts to sell property in Tehran but cannot complete the transaction because the authorities prevent the use of a power of attorney on security grounds. Proceedings may subsequently be brought abroad for repayment or damages. The foreign court would first have to determine the nature of the claim and the law applicable to it. An Iranian administrative instruction addressed to prosecutors, consular authorities, notaries or registries does not automatically govern contractual liability in another legal system.
An additional distinction is important. The Iranian restriction might appear before the foreign court simply as a fact explaining why performance could not occur. In that situation, public policy cannot make the factual impediment disappear. A different problem arises where a party asks the forum to attribute legal effect to the measure itself, whether through the applicable foreign law, a claimed proprietary consequence, or recognition of an Iranian decision.
Human Rights and Public PolicyHuman rights do not replace ordinary conflicts rules, nor do they ordinarily operate as connecting factors permitting a court to disregard foreign law merely because its application produces an objectionable result.
Their influence is nevertheless visible within established mechanisms of private international law. A useful contemporary restatement appears in the Institut de Droit international’s 2021 Resolution on Human Rights and Private International Law. Article 8 provides that, in assessing whether the application of foreign law designated by conflicts rules complies with international public policy, due consideration must be given to human rights, notably the principle of non-discrimination. Public policy therefore remains an exceptional control mechanism, not a competing choice-of-law rule. It may permit the forum to refuse effect to a consequence of otherwise applicable foreign law that is incompatible with its fundamental principles.
The distinction between territorial effectiveness and legal effect abroad is familiar in conflicts jurisprudence. In Luther v Sagor, English courts accepted the proprietary consequences of Soviet confiscatory legislation concerning property situated within Soviet territory. Oppenheimer v Cattermole demonstrated that such deference was not unlimited where foreign legislation was fundamentally incompatible with public policy. In Kuwait Airways v Iraqi Airways, the House of Lords likewise began from ordinary choice-of-law principles concerning proprietary rights but refused effect to Iraqi confiscatory legislation on public-policy grounds. Belhaj v Straw subsequently discussed Oppenheimer and Kuwait Airways within this public-policy line of authority.
The comparison is doctrinal, not historical. The Iranian measures are not equated with Soviet nationalization, Nazi persecution or Iraqi confiscation. These authorities instead illustrate that the territorial operation of foreign law and the legal consequences accorded to it by another legal system are separate questions.
Iranian law will ordinarily govern proprietary rights in assets situated in Iran. The private international law issue arises only when a consequence of the Iranian measure is invoked before a foreign court. The forum must first characterize the issue, determine the applicable law and establish the scope of the relevant foreign rule. Only then can public policy become relevant. Where the consequence for which legal effect is sought rests on discrimination based on political opinion or opposition activity, human-rights considerations may properly enter that assessment.
Political immobilization thus becomes a private international law problem when a measure effective within Iran is invoked as the basis for legal consequences outside Iran.
by Sibusiso Mabaso, Lecturer in Private International Law, University of South Africa
For many years, South African private international law relied on the lex domicilii matrimonii as connecting factor to determine the legal system applicable to the proprietary consequences of a marriage. The lex domicilii matrimonii is interpreted as the husband’s domicile at the time of entering into the marriage. This rule was firmly entrenched in South African law since it was formally adopted in Frankel’s Estate v The Master & Another 1950(1) SA 220 (A) and reinforced in subsequent decisions, the latest being LE v LA 2024 (5) SA 539 (GJ). Despite the courts’ reliance on this rule, it became increasingly evident that it is not compatible with South Africa’s Constitutional commitment to equality, dignity and non-discrimination (Constitution of the Republic of South Africa, 1996). The Westen Cape High Court has finally addressed this discriminatory connecting factor in a judgment delivered on 24 June 2026 in Pringle v Minister of Justice and Constitutional Development and Others (2468 / 2024) [2026] ZAWCHC 343.
The challenge to the lex domicilii matrimonii emerged from a divorce dispute between Nina Pringle (applicant) and Ian Norman Pringle (third respondent), both of whom, at the time of their marriage, were domiciled outside South Africa. The marriage between the parties also took place outside South Africa, therefore South African private international law rules came into play in the case. The applicant challenged the application of the lex domicilii matrimonii rule on the basis that it automatically preferred the husband’s domicile at the time of the marriage, which has the result that the rule discriminates against women and fails to accommodate same-sex marriages.
The applicant argued that the lex domicilii matrimonii is inconsistent with the Constitution in that it discriminated between spouses on the on grounds of sex, gender and sexual orientation. Historically, the rule developed from patriarchal assumptions that the husband was the head of the family and that the wife’s identity followed his (para 60 of the case). Although such assumptions show the legacy of earlier legal systems, they have long since been rejected by South African constitutional jurisprudence. What is also interesting is that, while the wife’s domicile of dependence was abolished through the Domicile Act 3 of 1992, the lex domicilii matrimonii continued to determine the proprietary consequences of marriage according to the husband’s domicile. The applicant therefore challenged validity of the lex domicilii matrimonii, that this rule no longer serves any legitimate purpose within a constitutional democracy founded on equality and human dignity (para 3.1 of the Pringle case).
The court concurred with the applicant’s argument. It held that the lex domicilii matrimonii rule unfairly discriminates based on sex, gender and sexual orientation, which renders the rule inconsistent with the Constitution (paras 70 & 72). The court acknowledged that there exists no rational justification to continue employing the husband’s domicile when South African law has already abolished the idea that a married woman’s legal identity is dependent upon her husband (para 64). The court further acknowledged that the rule failed to accommodate same-sex marriages (para 67). In arriving at this conclusion, the court recognised that the common law must evolve to reflect the values enshrined in the Constitution, specifically where private international law rules perpetuate historical inequalities.
The court’s declaration that the rule is unconstitutional and invalid in terms of s 172(1)(a) of the Constitution, means that it had to pronounce a just and equitable replacement (s 172(1)(b)) that will determine the legal system applicable to the proprietary consequences of marriages with an international element. In this vein, the court used its powers to develop the common-law by drawing inspiration from international instruments such as the 1978 Hague Convention on the Law Applicable to Matrimonial Property Regimes and the European Union’s Matrimonial Property Regulation 2016/1103 (paras 85 – 93). The court developed a new hierarchical applicable law framework. The new rule prioritises party autonomy by enabling spouses to choose the legal system that will govern the proprietary consequences of their marriage, this is subject to the chosen system having a substantial link to either or both spouses (para 2.1. of the order). Should there be no choice made by the spouses or their choice has no substantial connection to them, the applicable law is determined successively by the parties’ common domicile, common habitual residence, common nationality and finally, the legal system with the closest connection to the spouses (para 2.5 of the order). The court also considered the South African Law Reform Commission’s (SALRC) Project 100E, Review of Aspects of Matrimonial Property Law, Discussion Paper 160, that considered the constitutionality of the lex domicilii matrimonii and any suitable replacement. The court departed from the SALRC Discussion Paper 160 in respect of the choice of the applicable law. The court pronounced that there should be a substantial connection between the parties and the designated legal system (para 95).
The new common-law rule developed by the court has retrospective effect; subject to certain exceptions. Firstly, where spouses concluded an antenuptial contract choosing the law governing the proprietary consequences of their marriage, the new rule will not apply for two years from the date of the order, allowing the parties time to amend their contract if necessary (para 3.1 of the order). Secondly, in the absence of a choice of law by the parties, the new rule shall not apply if it would lead to substantial prejudice (para 3.2 of the order). Thirdly, the order will not disturb vested rights or invalidate transactions and decisions already taken under the previous lex domicilii matrimonii rule (para 3.3 of the order). Finally, the new rule will not apply to marriages already dissolved by death or divorce before the date of the order (para 3.4 of the order).
The court’s declaration of invalidity and replacement of the lex domicilii matrimonii rule marks a significant development in South African private international law. Unlike the previous rule, which by default preferred the husband’s domicile, the new framework recognises the equal status of spouses while advancing legal certainty and flexibility in international marriages. The court’s adoption of connecting factors internationally applied and recognised as best practice, advances harmonisation between South African private international law and other jurisdictions. It also promotes predictability for parties involved in cross-border relationships.
The judgement is widely welcomed, given the fact that many experts in the field have long criticised and called for the rule to be replaced. The courts did not wait for legislative intervention to align the South African law with internationally accepted principles. This indicates that the courts are prepared to ensure that common-law rules align with the constitution. Some aspects still need to be explored, namely the practical application of the concept of “closest connection” and the extent to which courts will interpret the requirement of a “substantial connection” when spouses exercise their right to choose a legal system. Another aspect that would need to be explored is the court’s order that the new common-law rule shall not apply to existing marriages if it would lead to substantial prejudice. The meaning of substantial prejudice will require interpretation from our courts. These issues will undoubtedly be addressed through future scholarship and litigation.
Nevertheless, Pringle marks the demise of the lex domicilii matrimonii which was rooted in outdated patriarchal assumptions and confirms that South African private international law must develop in line with the Constitution.
Breakdown of the Rules-Based International Order
– What Role for Private International Law?
Following the first Private International Law Festival in 2022 (conference report), on 24-25 September 2026, the University of Edinburgh Law School and the Max Planck Institute for Comparative and International Private Law, generously supported by the Lindemann Foundation, will cohost the second Private International Law Festival at Edinburgh University’s splendid Playfair Library in Edinburgh. Two days of conflict of laws, plus a Ceilidh!
The program is here, a flyer is here. As to the Ceilidh, no prior expertise is expected, but you can take a look here.
Registration is open until August 28, please register here.
Thalia Kruger, University of Antwerp & Senior Research Associate, University of Johannesburg
This piece is based on a paper that I presented at the World Congress on Adults Protection, held in Amsterdam from 8 to 10 July 2026. It is still work in progress.
The World Conference focused on capacity rather than vulnerability and incapacity of Adults. This choice of theme resulted in much discussion on support for the exercise of capacity. Supported decision-making rather than replaced decision-making for an incapacitated person poses challenges for Private International Law, especially of the Von Savigny tradition. Our approach is to first characterise and then find which laws we can apply. But it is exactly this characterisation that is becoming blurry: to be fully in compliance with the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities people should be allowed to make decisions, i.e. conclude contracts with the help of others. There should be no boxes of capacitated and incapacitated persons. No longer can only the former conclude contracts, while the latter have to be represented by guardians or other persons with a representation function. In Adult law some concepts are phasing out, while others are being reinterpreted by legislators and courts.
Below, after briefly explaining the move towards supported decision-making in substantive family law and human rights law, I turn to the available legal framework for cross-border cases, then to the difficult question of characterisation, and lastly to cross-border recognition.
The move towards supported decision-makingThe civil laws of various countries are adapting to be in conformity with the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), which recognises the legal capacity of persons with disabilities on an equal basis with others (Art. 12,2). It also imposes an obligation on States to take appropriate measures to support persons with disabilities to exercise their legal capacity. The Convention was ratified by all EU Member States, and confirmed by the European Union. It further states the full and effective participation and inclusion in society as a general principle (Art. 3), and calls on States to ensure effective access to justice for persons with disabilities, equal to other (Art. 13). And importantly from a private international law perspective, the Convention requires States to recognise the rights of persons with disabilities to liberty of movement, to freedom to choose their residence and to a nationality, on an equal basis with others (Art. 18).
Germany and Ireland have strongly amended their civil laws to adapt to this. Other EU Member States are still in the process of doing so. It was clear at the conference that the law needs to make a paradigm shift. It is not easy for legislators and even legal scholars, to let go of the concept of “incapacity” and to accept that people may need support without being represented in their legal acts. This reality requires different thinking about personal law as well as contract law, and the intersection of both.
Legal framework for cross-border casesIn private international law, the main international source for Adult law is the Hague Adults Convention of 2000. This Convention was avant-garde when it was concluded. It dealt with the issue of Adults even before the UNCRPD came about. It provided a framework to ensure cross-border continuity of protection of adults, as well as for the legal acts they and/or their representatives performed. The Convention uses open-ended and respectful terminology. Yet, the Convention also suffers from its stagnant nature (as Conventions do – set in stone the moment they are adopted). The Convention was inspired by the Hague Child Protection Convention 1996, which is also a good Convention, ensuring the continuity of child protection and parental responsibility. This has the unfortunate result that the Convention uses concepts like incapacity, protection, guardianship, curatorship, placement, and representation. Yet, as explained in the previous section, the UNCRPD is requiring a shift away from such ideas.
To my mind the Convention, as a living instrument, can still stand in the emerging legal landscape. This requires a purpose-driven and context-sensitive interpretation of its provisions. Such reinterpretation will no-doubt soon reach domestic courts, and is already being discussed. The first Special Commission on this Convention held by the Hague Conference in November 2022, acknowledged that the terms ‘guardianship’ and ‘curatorship’ no longer exist in some legal systems, that have moved to supported decision-making. However, they concluded to keep the terms in the Convention, and not amend the Convention at that time (para 69). They also discussed the possible reinterpretation of ‘powers of representation’ (in Arts 15 to 17) to include advance unilateral acts or expressions of decisions, for instance on health care (paras 23 to 26). They concluded that courts could undertake such appreciation on a case-by-case basis. Thus, the door remains open for an interpretation fit for new legal and societal contexts.
The Hague Adults Convention is currently in force in sixteen States (thirteen EU Member States, the other three neighbouring States to the EU). In addition, five States (all of them EU States) signed the Convention without following up by a ratification yet.
After two resolutions by the European Parliament (in 2008 and in 2017), the European Commission in 2023 published two proposals on Adults. One proposal is for a Council Decision to authorise Member States that have not already done so to ratify the 2000 Hague Convention. The other is to complement the Convention in the EU by a Regulation, which enhances or slightly adapt some rules. The Commission’s approach can thus be described as a ‘Hague+’ one, similar to the approaches taken in parental responsibility and maintenance. Under the latest agreement between the Council and the Parliament (May 2026) the Regulation would place emphasis on ‘support’. The legislators do not seem to modify the Hague Convention’s private international law rules, but would include ‘support’ when reference is made to representation.
How should we then characterise?The shift is monumental. For us to rethink private international law in this sphere, it is helpful to think in terms of two different scenarios that can arise when an Adult in need of assistance concludes a contract. The first is representation of the adult by another person. This other person is the one negotiating, deciding and contracting. The Adult involved stays in the shadow . The other is where the Adult is involved in the preparation, negotiation and conclusion of the contract. The Adult is the one signing, but with the help of a support person. This construction is different from current (traditional) contract law. Some argue that it does not comply with the standards of legal certainty.
The characterisation would be contract law to check the validity of the contract, i.e. to verify whether there was really a meeting of the minds (consensus) between the persons involved. If legal systems recognise the capacity of every person (or like the German system reduces capacity in only a very limited number of situations), then the characterisation stays within contract law. Thus it stops at the question of validity and consensus. In legal systems that still have the notion of incapacity, the characterisation for this question switches to the appropriate connecting factor under the law of persons (often the law of the nationality).
The Hague Adults Convention refers to ‘measures’ to protect an adult. These measures would however, in an ideal world, only involve the appointment of support persons for the Adult. Such appointment can happen under the jurisdiction bases and applicable law rules of the Convention. The Convention also foresees the possibility for Adults to appoint the representative(s) of their choice (Arts 15 to 17). The same private international law would apply for the appointment by Adults of support persons.
Recognition across bordersGetting to recognition, a court order or authentic instrument appointing a support person for an Adult would benefit from the recognition regime of the Hague Convention and the proposed Regulation. If a support person was appointed in an informal way, their role would not be up for recognition (in the private international law sense), but would turn on the law applicable to the legal relation. As explained above, that will to a large extent by contract law, in the absence of incapacity.
There is still much to think through. Private international law will probably be in flux for some time still, while domestic laws are being amended.
Thalia Kruger, University of Antwerp & Senior Research Associate, University of Johannesburg
This piece is based on a paper that I presented at the World Congress on Adults Protection, held in Amsterdam from 8 to 10 July 2026. It is still work in progress.
The World Conference focused on capacity rather than vulnerability and incapacity of Adults. This choice of theme resulted in much discussion on support for the exercise of capacity. Supported decision-making rather than replaced decision-making for an incapacitated person poses challenges for Private International Law, especially of the Von Savigny tradition. Our approach is to first characterise and then find which laws we can apply. But it is exactly this characterisation that is becoming blurry: to be fully in compliance with the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities people should be allowed to make decisions, i.e. conclude contracts with the help of others. There should be no boxes of capacitated and incapacitated persons. No longer can only the former conclude contracts, while the latter have to be represented by guardians or other persons with a representation function. In Adult law some concepts are phasing out, while others are being reinterpreted by legislators and courts.
Below, after briefly explaining the move towards supported decision-making in substantive family law and human rights law, I turn to the available legal framework for cross-border cases, then to the difficult question of characterisation, and lastly to cross-border recognition.
The move towards supported decision-makingThe civil laws of various countries are adapting to be in conformity with the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD), which recognises the legal capacity of persons with disabilities on an equal basis with others (Art. 12,2). It also imposes an obligation on States to take appropriate measures to support persons with disabilities to exercise their legal capacity. The Convention was ratified by all EU Member States, and confirmed by the European Union. It further states the full and effective participation and inclusion in society as a general principle (Art. 3), and calls on States to ensure effective access to justice for persons with disabilities, equal to other (Art. 13). And importantly from a private international law perspective, the Convention requires States to recognise the rights of persons with disabilities to liberty of movement, to freedom to choose their residence and to a nationality, on an equal basis with others (Art. 18).
Germany and Ireland have strongly amended their civil laws to adapt to this. Other EU Member States are still in the process of doing so. It was clear at the conference that the law needs to make a paradigm shift. It is not easy for legislators and even legal scholars, to let go of the concept of “incapacity” and to accept that people may need support without being represented in their legal acts. This reality requires different thinking about personal law as well as contract law, and the intersection of both.
Legal framework for cross-border casesIn private international law, the main international source for Adult law is the Hague Adults Convention of 2000. This Convention was avant-garde when it was concluded. It dealt with the issue of Adults even before the UNCRPD came about. It provided a framework to ensure cross-border continuity of protection of adults, as well as for the legal acts they and/or their representatives performed. The Convention uses open-ended and respectful terminology. Yet, the Convention also suffers from its stagnant nature (as Conventions do – set in stone the moment they are adopted). The Convention was inspired by the Hague Child Protection Convention 1996, which is also a good Convention, ensuring the continuity of child protection and parental responsibility. This has the unfortunate result that the Convention uses concepts like incapacity, protection, guardianship, curatorship, placement, and representation. Yet, as explained in the previous section, the UNCRPD is requiring a shift away from such ideas.
To my mind the Convention, as a living instrument, can still stand in the emerging legal landscape. This requires a purpose-driven and context-sensitive interpretation of its provisions. Such reinterpretation will no-doubt soon reach domestic courts, and is already being discussed. The first Special Commission on this Convention held by the Hague Conference in November 2022, acknowledged that the terms ‘guardianship’ and ‘curatorship’ no longer exist in some legal systems, that have moved to supported decision-making. However, they concluded to keep the terms in the Convention, and not amend the Convention at that time (para 69). They also discussed the possible reinterpretation of ‘powers of representation’ (in Arts 15 to 17) to include advance unilateral acts or expressions of decisions, for instance on health care (paras 23 to 26). They concluded that courts could undertake such appreciation on a case-by-case basis. Thus, the door remains open for an interpretation fit for new legal and societal contexts.
The Hague Adults Convention is currently in force in sixteen States (thirteen EU Member States, the other three neighbouring States to the EU). In addition, five States (all of them EU States) signed the Convention without following up by a ratification yet.
After two resolutions by the European Parliament (in 2008 and in 2017), the European Commission in 2023 published two proposals on Adults. One proposal is for a Council Decision to authorise Member States that have not already done so to ratify the 2000 Hague Convention. The other is to complement the Convention in the EU by a Regulation, which enhances or slightly adapt some rules. The Commission’s approach can thus be described as a ‘Hague+’ one, similar to the approaches taken in parental responsibility and maintenance. Under the latest agreement between the Council and the Parliament (May 2026) the Regulation would place emphasis on ‘support’. The legislators do not seem to modify the Hague Convention’s private international law rules, but would include ‘support’ when reference is made to representation.
How should we then characterise?The shift is monumental. For us to rethink private international law in this sphere, it is helpful to think in terms of two different scenarios that can arise when an Adult in need of assistance concludes a contract. The first is representation of the adult by another person. This other person is the one negotiating, deciding and contracting. The Adult involved stays in the shadow . The other is where the Adult is involved in the preparation, negotiation and conclusion of the contract. The Adult is the one signing, but with the help of a support person. This construction is different from current (traditional) contract law. Some argue that it does not comply with the standards of legal certainty.
The characterisation would be contract law to check the validity of the contract, i.e. to verify whether there was really a meeting of the minds (consensus) between the persons involved. If legal systems recognise the capacity of every person (or like the German system reduces capacity in only a very limited number of situations), then the characterisation stays within contract law. Thus it stops at the question of validity and consensus. In legal systems that still have the notion of incapacity, the characterisation for this question switches to the appropriate connecting factor under the law of persons (often the law of the nationality).
The Hague Adults Convention refers to ‘measures’ to protect an adult. These measures would however, in an ideal world, only involve the appointment of support persons for the Adult. Such appointment can happen under the jurisdiction bases and applicable law rules of the Convention. The Convention also foresees the possibility for Adults to appoint the representative(s) of their choice (Arts 15 to 17). The same private international law would apply for the appointment by Adults of support persons.
Recognition across bordersGetting to recognition, a court order or authentic instrument appointing a support person for an Adult would benefit from the recognition regime of the Hague Convention and the proposed Regulation. If a support person was appointed in an informal way, their role would not be up for recognition (in the private international law sense), but would turn on the law applicable to the legal relation. As explained above, that will to a large extent by contract law, in the absence of incapacity.
There is still much to think through. Private international law will probably be in flux for some time still, while domestic laws are being amended.
A new issue of ZEuP – Zeitschrift für Europäisches Privatrecht is now available and includes contributions on EU private law, comparative law and legal history, legal unification, private international law, and individual European private law regimes. The full table of content can be accessed here: https://rsw.beck.de/zeitschriften/zeup.
The following contributions might be of particular interest for the readers of this blog with a broader interest in comparative and European private law:
In the editorial, Law in Uncertain Times: Fragilities, Dilemmas and the Role of (Soft) Legal Standards On the occasion of the ELI’s 15th Anniversary, Teresa Rodríguez de las Heras Ballell, reflects on the European Law Institute’s (ELI) contribution to shaping the law in times of global uncertainty on the occasion of its 15thanniversary and envisages the role the ELI is called upon to play in the future. After examining the three challenges and the corresponding fragilities facing the law, the editorial turns to two central dilemmas of contemporary law-making and discusses the harmonisation potential of soft law.
In his article, The Reform of the French Law of Obligations: 10 Years On, Yves-Marie Laithier takes a look back and ahead on the tenth anniversary of the French reform of the law of contract, the general regime of obligations, and the proof of obligations. He points out the surprising fact that, as a result of the 2016 reform, the law applicable prior to it (the “old” law) has also been subject to a series of interpretative changes inspired by the perceived need to reduce the gap between it and the provisions newly inserted into the Civil Code (the “new” law). Thus, the reform, designed for the present, has led to a partial rewriting of the law of the past. The article concludes by assessing the future prospects of the reform.
Walter Doralt on Das Projekt eines Europäischen Handelsgesetzbuchs – Vom Beruf unserer Zeit zur Reform und (Re-)Kodifikation im Handelsrecht provides (in German) a brief overview and assessment of the project for a European Commercial Code, which stems from an academic Franco-German initiative. In doing so, he highlights that major law reform initiatives on a European level have often originated in legal scholarship. The article addresses the challenges of translating academic proposals into legislation, as well as the potential benefits and lasting influence of such initiatives on the development of the law.
In, Law By Commission: Standing Law Reform Bodies in the Common Law Tradition, Matthew Dyson examines the role of law commissions, ie, bodies officially charged with the task of reviewing the law and preparing reform proposals for the legislator to consider. The article explores when and how law commissions are typically created, how they work, what they do, and how successful they have been in the past. The article further considers the spread of law commissions as institutions widely used in common law (and mixed) legal systems. The article also compares law commissions to other bodies engaged in law reform.
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