In the UK, the National Council for Civil Liberties was founded in 1934 to protect demonstrators from the police. Two years later, trade unionist activists and political radicals defeated Mosley's fascists in the Battle of Cable Street. None of these were "human rights" groups, but are they for that reason to be obliterated from the face of history?The best introduction to the development of human rights law, well-organised, readable and coherent, remains the late Paul Sieghart's The Lawful Rights of Mankind. It is nowhere mentioned in this text.The second half of the book is less unsuccessful than the first since it is more limited in scope, amounting to a solid summary of politico- legal developments in the field of war crimes and crimes against humanity from Nuremberg to the litigation arising out of the arrest of General Pinochet.
Here Robertson is on safer ground, writing readably about leading law cases and international conventions. He is particularly good on the international criminal court, on which there is a most helpful appendix. His final thoughts, in a 13-page epilogue entitled "After Kosovo" are intelligent and provocative. They would have made a first-class piece of journalism had they been published in that form.Geoffrey Robertson may or may not be right to attack "the many over-optimistic international lawyers" whose "wishful thinking... has made international human rights law such a fatuous academic exercise". To avoid fatuity, and to deserve its place at the high table of international law in the next century, the subject needs to probe what it is and what are its limits.
It must even-handedly connect itself to other not inherently disgraceful ideas, such as national sovereignty, democracy, the use of force and the right to rebel.Now that it is close to centre stage, human rights law needs less rhetoric, less righteous certainty, less moral exclusivity and more of a sense of intellectual responsibility. The subject has - fortunately - many enthusiastic advocates on its side. It needs more than their polemical skills if it is to triumph.Conor Gearty is professsor of law at King's College, London. We have something to cheer about at last - the 1999 Teaching Awards Hurrah for them.
Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! Faint though the candle of teaching flickers in our dark and naughty world, any light is better than no light. You can measure a civilisation by how highly it values and rewards its teachers. So where does that leave us? A barbarian place, until every teacher we employ is reinvested with authority, once again called Sir or Miss, denominated a national treasure, and remunerated more generously than any disc jockey or controller of a television channel. In the meantime, yes, yes, present them with a prize, put them on telly and make them famous for a night. They deliver better speeches than film stars do, wear altogether more sensible clothes, and if they cry they cry with reason.That's the huzza-ing over. Now tell me something: why was Gaby Roslin chosen to co-host the ceremony with Stephen Fry? Fry I get. No real teacher ever looked more teacherly - too big for himself, harassed, bumbling, forever in need of a shampoo and scalp massage, but gentle-hearted at the last.