• Feb. 25: $200,000 from the release of the Japanese-owned MV Izumi after pirates received a $4.5 million ransom.

• March 8: $80,000 from the $2 million release of the St. Vincent & Grenadines-flagged MV Rak Africana.

• March 9: $100,000 after the Singapore-flagged MV York was freed for $4.5 million.

• April 13: $600,000 from the release of the German ship Beluga Nomination after a $5.5 million ransom was paid.

• April 15: A $66,000 share of the $3.6 million ransom handed over for the Panama-flagged MV Asphalt Venture.

• May 14: $100,000 from the release of two Spanish crew of the Spanish-owned FV VEGA 5.

According to Reuters, the payment of these amounts was “corroborated” by pirates, al-Shabaab and Somali residents.

Al-Shabaab is listed on the Treasury Department’s List of Specially Designated Nationals and Blocked Persons, but payments made by shipping and insurance companies to pirates that wound up in the hands of the group would not violate Treasury regulations unless the payments were made knowing that they would wind up in the hands of al-Shabaab. Al-Shabaab is also listed by the State Department as a Foreign Terrorist Organization. Because of that designation, 18 U.S.C. § 2339A prohibits the provision of money to al-Shabaab “knowing or intending” that the money be used for the commission of certain terrorist crimes enumerated in the statute. It seems hard to argue, even given the alleged 20% take agreement, that payment of ransom to the pirates satisfies the standards of that statute.

In an earlier post on Somali piracy, I noted that OFAC agreed that its rules only forbid payment to individual pirates and pirate groups that had been designated but recommended that, nonetheless, ship owners and insurance companies consult with OFAC before making ransom payments to Somali pirates. The Reuters story suggests that some companies have been consulting with OFAC prior to ransom payments even though that is not legally required:

Michael Frodl, a Washington lawyer and head of C-level Maritime Risks, … said the U.S. Treasury’s Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC) carried out reviews of all potential ransom payments to determine if the pirate group in question had ever handed over part of a ransom to al-Shabaab.

“Most times OFAC has authorized payment because it has found no link,” Mr. Frodl said. “But if there is indeed a 20% ‘tax’ being applied by Shabaab against pirate ransoms in Haradhere, a major pirate hub it now controls, then things could change.”

Yes, things “could” change, but only the 20 percent tax is actually occuring and the person making the payment was aware of it. Even then, where the payment is not going directly to al-Shabaab and is necessary to end an imminent threat to the life and safety of crew members, OFAC may be in a difficult position arguing that the payment to the non-designated pirates is a violation of its rules.

UPDATE: As commenter Josh points out, al-Shabaab is on the SDN list. In my original post, I was unable to find them. My guess is that there was a typo in my search request. The post has been updated to reflect the designation of al-Shabaab as an SDN

Most marine hull insurance covers piracy as does Institute Cargo Clause A. Even under Cargo Clauses B and C, insurers may still be required to contribute to ransom payments under the general average rule. Accordingly, because shippers and vessel owners have insurance coverage paid for and available to pay the ransom, they are anxious not to lose that benefit (or their crews or goods) as a result of any interference by OFAC with ransom payments.

I indicated that these concerns were unfounded because the executive order forbids payments to parties already designated for piratical activities. If a pirate demanding ransom hadn’t been designated yet, nothing in the order would forbid payment of ransom to that pirate or pirate crew. (Of course, it is a little surrealistic to imagine that a vessel owner would demand the pirate’s name and run it against the SDN list before making a ransom payment.)

On April 16, during a meeting with maritime industry officials, a senior government official confirmed my position, namely, that only payments to designated individuals were prohibited by the order. Nothing in the order prohibited ransom payments to pirates in general.

But the bad news is that the official indicated that vessel owners should consult with OFAC before making any payment where the order “might” apply. Because the pirates demanding ransom presumably don’t give their names (or even aliases such as Blackbeard or the like), the order “might” apply to any proposed payment of ransom to pirates.

The utility of meeting with OFAC in such cases certainly doesn’t outweigh the increased danger to crew lives caused by the consequent delay. This is particularly true given that OFAC is unlikely to agree that it won’t pursue criminal or civil penalties should one of the pirates turn out to be a designated individual.

Indeed, Shapiro described in his testimony how such hoses helped defeat a recent pirate attack on one of his companies ships. A crew member captured video of the thwarted attack.

Even so, Shapiro called for arming merchant ships and described existing barriers to doing so:

Today’s U.S. legal framework actually prevents ship owners from arming thier vessels for self-defense. While the maritime right of self defense is enshrined in U.S. law in a statute dating from 1817, more recently enacted State Department arms export regulations effectively prohibit the arming of vessels.

Although the International Traffic in Arms Regulations do not prohibit the arming of merchant marine ships, an export license would be required permitting the temporary export of the weapons to each port that the ship will visit prior to its return to the United States. This would not only be time consuming but would, for example, not permit weapons on ships destined for Chinese parts due to the arms embargo against China in section 126.1.

The narrow exemption in section 123.17(c) for crew members to temporarily export non-automatic firearms and 1,000 rounds of ammunition without a license is probably insufficient to arm properly a merchant ship against pirates with RPG launchers and AK-47s. And it entails an additional burden of a declaration by each crew member to a Customs officer prior to each departure by the crew with non-automatic firearms

Beyond the hurdles imposed by the ITAR, the bond requirement imposed by 22 U.S.C. § 463 is also a practical barrier to arming merchant ships. That statue requires that the owners of armed ships post a bond prior to leaving a U.S. port in an amount equal to double the value of the ship and its cargo

Additional Congressional action may not be required, however, to permit the arming of merchant ships. Under 10 U.S.C. § 351, the President may authorize the arming of merchant ships upon determination that the national security is threatened by the application of physical violence by foreign governments or agencies against U.S. commercial interests. Presumably, foreign pirates would fit within the definition of agencies. Ships armed under this provision are exempted from the double-bond requirement.

Even if U.S. barriers to arming merchant ships can be overcome, that’s not the end of the story. The governments of any ports visited by the merchant ship in question may forbid that the vessel be armed. Or, as in, the case of Germany and other countries that have signed the U.N. Firearms Protocol, the port countries may require that a “transit permit” for the weapons be granted prior to the arrival of the ship.

It appears likely that merchant marine ships are going to have to continue to rely on high pressure water hoses for the immediate future to rebuff pirate attacks.

Although U.S. and international laws relating to piracy aren’t strictly within the domain of export laws, the issues are of considerable interest to the export community, both legal and otherwise, because of the impact of piracy on export trade from the U.S. and other countries. Also, it’s an interesting subject and allows the occasional lapse into pirate dialect.

The criminal complaint against Abduwali Muse, the pirate involved in the Maersk Alabama affair who has been brought to New York for trial, has been released. The allegations in the complaint, if true, suggest that Muse is not quite the innocent schoolboy duped by older pirates, as claimed by his mother. Rather Muse was the ringleader of the operation although, sadly for him, a devastatingly incompetent one at that.

Muse was among the first of the pirates to board the ship and, brandishing a gun, he started giving orders to stop the ship, lower a ladder to the pirate boat, and to give him a telephone number for the owners of the ship. He also demanded that the rest of the crew, at that point hiding in the safe room, surrender. A ship crew member convinced Muse that the crew would be to afraid to surrender if he was carrying a gun, thereby causing Muse to leave his gun behind as the crew member led him around the ship. Shortly thereafter several crew members tackled Muse, tied him up and carried him down to the safe room. Oops.

Later Muse was released by the crew to board the lifeboat with the Alabama’s captain as part of a deal to have the pirates leave the ship. On the lifeboat, Muse boasted to the Alabama’s captain that he had hijacked other ships. When the naval warship USS Bainbridge arrived on the scene, Muse requested permission to board where he received medical treatment for the wounds he received in the scuffle on the Alabama. When Navy sharpshooters took care of his compatriots on the life boat, Muse’s dreams of coming to America were realized, although not quite in the manner he had perhaps hoped.

The United States’ claim to have the jurisdiction to bring Muse back to the U.S for prosecution is based not only on the US flag status of the Alabama, but also under the principal of universal jurisdiction under the 1958 Convention on the High Seas and the U.N. Convention on the Law of the Sea (“UNCLOS”). (The U.S. is a member of the former, but not the latter, although both have nearly identical provisions permitting universal jurisdiction over pirates.)

Of course, that hasn’t stopped lawyer-turned-radio-host Ron Kuby, who is seeking to defend Muse, from trying to concoct a dubious theory questioning U.S. jurisdiction over Muse.

I think in this particular case, there’s a grave question as to whether America was in violation of principles of truce in warfare on the high seas. This man seemed to come onto the Bainbridge under a flag of truce to negotiate. He was then captured. There is a question whether he is lawfully in American custody and serious questions as to whether he can be prosecuted because of his age.

Presumably this is a reference to Article 32 of the 1907 Hague Convention Respecting the Law and Customs of War on Land (Hague IV), which at least might arguably be said to also state the international law regarding wars at sea. That provision states:

A person is regarded as a parlementaire who has been authorized by one of the belligerents to enter into communication with the other, and who advances bearing a white flag. He has a right to inviolability, as well as the trumpeter, bugler or drummer, the flag-bearer and interpreter who may accompany him.

Even leaving aside the formality of the white flag, and there is no indication that Muse carried one, Hague IV and the international law governing conflicts at sea only applies to nations at war. Historically pirates have been considered hostes humani generis (“enemies of all mankind”) and completely outside protection of maritime law. Conventions relating to the conduct of war by nations have no application to them. Instead, the only protections that pirates have are those set forth in the UNCLOS and the 1958 Convention on the High Seas, both of which give the pirates a right to a trial. (Previously international law permitted summary execution of pirates at sea when caught in the act.)

Of course, Blackwater’s proposal may look better on parchment than it does in practice. This being a blog about export law, I can’t resist wondering initially if Blackwater needs any approval from the Directorate of Defense Trade Controls (“DDTC”) before it sets off on the high seas. Certainly it will need licenses from DDTC for any weapons being taken on the boat, except for non-automatic firearms exempted by section 123.17 of the International Traffic in Arms Regulations (“ITAR”). (I tend to doubt, however, that non-automatic firearms are much use in pirate-hunting). I also don’t think that a Technical Assistance Agreement with Blackwater’s foreign clients will need to be approved by DDTC, since Blackwater won’t be performing a defense service for it’s clients as that is defined by section 120.9 of the ITAR — namely, providing assistance in the design, maintenance and use of defense articles or the provision of military training.

But dealing with the DDTC seems to be the least of Blackwater’s worries here. Rather it seems that well-established principles of international law may result in Blackwater getting all dressed up and having no place to go. Worse yet, if Blackwater takes any actions against suspect pirates, that may well constitute itself an act of piracy and subject Blackwater’s employees and their craft to seizure on the high seas by foreign, or even U.S., military forces.

Articles 100 through 107 of the U.N. Convention on the Law of the Sea (“UNCLOS”) cover piracy. Most significantly, Article 107 would prevent Blackwater’s ship or its crew from seizing any suspected pirate craft as that right is reserved under that article to “warships and military aircraft,” i.e. vessels and aircraft under the control of the military service of a State. And if the Blackwater ship fired upon or attempted to board a suspected pirate craft that would likely constitute and act of piracy as defined by Article 101 of UNCLOS. That article defines “piracy” as

any act of depredation, committed for private ends by the crew or the passengers of a private ship or a private aircraft, and directed … on the high seas, against another ship or aircraft, or against persons or property on board such ship or aircraft.

Of course, once Blackwater’s attack on the other craft becomes an act of piracy, then, under Article 105 of UNCLOS, any State that is a member of UNCLOS can seize Blackwater’s ship and its crew and punish the crew under its own laws. Although the United States has not ratified UNCLOS it is still a party to the 1958 U.N. Convention on the High Seas which has virtually identical provisions governing piracy and which would permit the United States as well to seize Blackwater’s vessel and crew if Blackwater fired upon a suspected pirate craft.

Blackwater is free, however, to open fire on any pirate craft that fire on or try to hijack Blackwater’s ship under customary principles of international law that permit reasonable and proportionate acts of self-defense. But who is going to pay Blackwater to go put a ship in the Gulf of Aden that can only fire at the pirates when they try to hijack Blackwater’s ship and must sit and watch when the pirates go after its client’s ship? Perhaps the Blackwater ship could accompany its client’s ship and fire on a pirate vessel that attacked the client ship as an extension of the client ship’s right of self-defense, but the legality of that would be clearer if Blackwater employees were on the attacked vessel rather than on Blackwater’s own ship.

Today we’re going to take a brief detour into the law of piracy which, although not strictly an export law topic, is a legal topic of interest to many exporters, particularly if a ship carrying their exports gets nabbed by modern-day pirates off the Horn of Africa. The occasion for this salty detour is an article in today’s Wall Street Journal by David Rivkin and Lee Casey.

The starting point for the article is the hijacking of the Saudi oil supertanker by Somali pirates. Rivkin and Casey claim that the pirates are benefiting from a confusion about international law on piracy. This confusion allegedly makes it difficult for third-party nations to prosecute pirates when, and if, they are captured.

Capturing pirates is not the critical problem. Rather, the issue is how to handle those in captivity. … One solution would be for the capturing state to press charges based on the much misunderstood and abused principle of “universal” jurisdiction. This is the notion that any state may criminalize and punish conduct that violates certain accepted international-law norms. Although its application in most circumstances is dubious — there is very little actual state practice supporting the right of one state to punish the nationals of a second for offenses against the citizens of a third — piracy is one area where a strong case for universal jurisdiction can be made (if only because piratical activities often take place on the high seas, beyond any state’s territorial jurisdiction).

First, the authors’ notions that universal jurisdiction is appropriate because piracy often occurs on the high seas “beyond any state’s territorial jurisdiction” indicates that the authors don’t fully understand the various grounds for the exercise of extraterritorial jurisdiction, both on the high seas and elsewhere. When piracy takes place on a flagged ship, as is usually the case, that ship is considered the sovereign territory of the country which flagged it, so the piracy is not “beyond any state’s territorial jurisdiction.”

Moreover there are other accepted grounds for the exercise of criminal jurisdiction over pirates captured at see. International law recognizes the rights of countries to enforce their own criminal laws against their own nationals for extraterritorial crimes. This would give Somalia the right to prosecute the pirates at issue. The “passive personality principle” gives states the right to prosecute extraterritorial crimes committed by non-nationals against nationals of the prosecuting states. This principal would allow jurisdiction by countries over crimes committed against their own nationals in the course of the piratical activities. And some states, including the United States, have, I think questionably, asserted that the territorial principle of international jurisdiction would allow protection of goods and technology that have originated in their own states. Careful followers of U.S. export prosecutions will understand this as the basis of, for example, this indictment of a Dutch national for exporting U.S. aircraft parts from the Netherlands to Iran.

To compound their various misunderstandings of the principle of universal jurisdiction, Rivkin and Casey asserted in the quotation set forth above that “there is very little actual state practice supporting the right of one state to punish the nationals of a second for offenses against the citizens of a third.” This can only be explained by the apparent unfamiliarity the authors have with the basis of jurisdiction asserted by war crime tribunals convened after World War II. The Allied War Tribunals explicitly invoked “universal jurisdiction” given that the prosecuted crimes had not been committed against their own nationals or within their own territories. Israel’s prosecution of Adolf Eichmann also cited the principle of “universal jurisdiction.” In addition, that principle recently served as the basis for U.N. tribunals created to prosecute atrocities committed during the civil wars in Yugoslavia and Rwanda. An excellent discussion (and criticism) of the use of the “universal jurisdiction” principal in these and other war crime cases can be found in E. Kontorovich, The Piracy Analogy: Modern Universal Jurisdiction’s Hollow Foundation, 45 Harv. Intl. Law Journal 183 (2004).

The authors’ desire to see the universal jurisdictional principal to prosecute pirates appears to be motivated, at least in part, by their desire to see the U.S. capture and prosecute the new crop of 21st century pirates. The authors criticize the squishy concerns of our European allies for such niceties as due process and regular criminal trials, preferring instead to see the United States set up proto-military tribunals where the pirates can be subjected to some kind of summary procedure and then forced to dance the hempen jig, which is, if you haven’t brushed up on for Talk Like A Pirate Day is “pirate speak” for being hanged.

Aside from some apparent distrust of traditional due process, Rivkin and Casey argue that parties captured by the U.S. military can’t be subject to ordinary criminal trials because “criminals cannot be targeted with military force.” This would come as a surprise to everyone involved in the narcotics prosecution of Manuel Noriega who was captured by the U.S. military and returned to the United States for trial on narcotics charges in U.S. federal courts. Perhaps Rivkin and Casey are referring to the posse comitatus law, 18 U.S.C. § 1385, but that law was only intended to prohibit the military from being used for law enforcement purposes within the United States.

It seems to me that if the United States captures pirates on the high seas, the principal of universal jurisdiction would permit a prosecution for piracy under 18 U.S.C. § 1651. This is not because, as Rivkin and Casey argue, there aren’t other bases for jurisdiction over the pirates available but rather because the exercise of jurisdiction over pirates under the doctrine of universal jurisdiction is widely accepted by nations and scholars even where other bases of jurisdictions by other nations might be available.

However, there is no reason that such charges couldn’t or shouldn’t be prosecuted in federal court with all the protections normally accorded to any other criminal defendants. Frankly, such a prosecution shouldn’t find ordinary due process to be a hindrance to convict an individual, not listed on the crew manifest, who is found on a ship with an RPG launcher or an automatic assault weapon. I think a jury will make that guy walk the plank faster than you can say “Avast, me mateys!”