Environmental dispute resolution 4,500 years ago

Fragment of the Stele of the Vultures, c. 2450 BCE

The latest Yearbook of International Environmental Law has an interesting contribution by Peter Sand, "Environmental Dispute Resolution 4,500 Years Ago: The Case of Lagash v Umma". Sand begins:

Legal historians sometimes contend—albeit tongue-in-cheek—that ‘environmental law has no history’ or that the origins of international treaty law in this field, at any rate, hardly date back more than two centuries. It is true of course that the very term ‘environmental law’ etymologically did not come into use, in any language, until the mid-twentieth century. Yet it is equally true that the earth’s natural resources have been a subject of claims for human exploitation and societal management (including law) for millennia before, as this brief note will aim to illustrate.

(The first quote is from my own chapter in the Oxford Handbook of Legal History, "Historical Analysis in Environmental Law". Let me note that I meant this contention not tongue-in-cheek but in the sense more felicitously captured by Éric Naim-Gesbert, cited by Sand: environmental law has a past without a history. See the abstract of my chapter.)

Sand continues (footnotes omitted):

The Musée du Louvre in Paris and the British Museum in London hold tangible evidence of the world’s first known legal agreement on boundary water resources—that is, the Mesilim Treaty, which was concluded in approximately 2550 BC between the two Mesopotamian states of Lagash and Umma—‘the oldest international treaty of which there is a reliable record.’ The terms of the treaty have been preserved in cuneiform inscriptions on limestone cones and a ‘stele’ commemorating Lagash’s victorious battle enforcing the interstate agreement....

Mesilim (or Me-salim, born circa 2600 BC) was the ruler of Kish, a kingdom further to the north of Lagash and Umma, which held a traditional ‘hegemonial’ position in the loose alliance of small neighbouring Sumerian states in the region between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, south of what was to become Babylon. In that capacity, he served as arbiter in a protracted dispute between the two city states of Lagash and Umma, and it is the text of the arbitral award attributed to him, accepted under oaths by the litigants to their respective deities, that then appears as Mesilim’s rules in the cuneiform inscriptions preserved. The main subject of the award was the inter-state boundary between the two states, alongside a major irrigation canal.... The dispute concerned both water resources (with Umma upstream and Lagash downstream) and a strip of adjoining agricultural land in the fertile Guedin valley... that was cultivated by Umma under lease from Lagash for barley production.

Sand goes on to describe the breakdown of the treaty and compare it to the modern Lake Lanoux Arbitration and ensuing agreements. More on this in an earlier guest post by Sand here.

The earliest boundary water treaty

Figure 1: 
Memorial cone of the Mesilim Treaty

Thanks to Peter Sand for contributing this post!

[Footnotes after the jump.]

The Musée du Louvre in Paris holds tangible evidence of the world’s first known legal agreement on boundary water resources: viz., the Mesilim Treaty, concluded in the 25th century B.C. between the two Mesopotamian states of Lagash and Umma. The terms of the treaty have been preserved as cuneiform inscriptions on a limestone cone (figure 1) and a stele commemorating Lagash’s victorious battle enforcing the treaty.[1] Fragments of both artifacts were excavated in 1878-1912 by French archeologists on sites at Tellō (Tall Lawh, Dhi Qar Governate in Southern Iraq), the ancient temple-city of Girsu, once the capital of Lagash.[2] The inscriptions, transcribed and translated into French, German, Italian and English,[3] turned out to match several other texts on corresponding archeological finds of the period. The key exhibit, the so-called ‘Stele of the Vultures’, depicts Lagash ruler E’anatum leading his army, and vultures devouring slain Umma warriors (figures 2 and 3).

Mesilim [or Mesalim, born ca. 2600 B.C.] was the ruler of Kish, a kingdom further to the north of Lagash and Umma, which held a traditional ‘hegemonic’ position in the loose alliance of small adjoining Sumerian city-states in the region between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, south of what was to become Babylon.[4] Because of the prevailing precarious rainfall conditions, the agricultural economy of the entire basin area has always been crucially dependent on irrigation, mainly from the ‘great Tigris’, through an elaborate system of canals and levees which inevitably require close inter-community cooperation. The geographic focus of the bilateral Lagash-Umma agreement, concluded under Mesilim’s authority as external arbiter, was the fertile Gu-edena valley, roughly ten by four kilometers wide and irrigated by Tigris waters from a canal named Lum-magirnunta on the border between Umma and Lagash, with boundaries marked by stone steles.

Figure 2: Stele of the Vultures

Figure 3: Stele of the Vultures

Part of the treaty was a crop-sharing arrangement for a portion of boundary land (some eleven square kilometers) downstream on Lagash territory, that was cultivated by Umma under lease, against payment of an annual rental fee (máš, calculated in silver-shekel equivalents of barley crops) to cover the costs of canal maintenance.[5] However, when Umma repeatedly refused to honor its accumulated tenancy debts, hostilities broke out, resulting in partial destruction of the canal and in unilateral diversions of water upstream. In several successive military confrontations (‘the first known war in history that was, in essence, fought about water’),[6] Umma was ultimately defeated by Lagash (first under the leadership of E’anatum, ca. 2470 B.C.; and later under his nephew Enmetena, ca. 2430 B.C.),[7] and was forced to accept the reconstruction (and extension) of the canal and the reinstatement of the boundaries as originally drawn up by Mesilim.

Alas, the treaty so renewed and ‘writ in stone’, and the peace so re-established, does not seem to have survived for long, and was eventually overtaken and mooted by external political events (the Akkadian/Sargonic invasions) in subsequent generations. Even so, the agreement has been hailed as ‘the first international arbitration’,[8] and as ‘the oldest treaty of which there is a reliable record’.[9] It remains a unique early attempt at resolving a dispute over boundary waters by formal reference to a superior spiritual order (in this case, the deities of both parties, repeatedly ‘sworn to’ in the text), and hence may indeed qualify as a precursor of international law in this field – well over 4,000 years ago.[10]

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Sustainability: of forests, ships, and law

[Another guest post, with lots of useful references, by Peter Sand of the Institute of International Law, University of Munich (see here for his earlier post on Karl Neumeyer). Revised from Environmental Policy and Law 37:2-3 (2007) 201-203. Notes are after the break.]

“Sustainable development” has become a household word – if a heavily loaded one – to international lawyers, economists and green politicians alike. Yet, the etymology of the term spans a number of other disciplines, and more than three centuries of environmental history.

The Report of the ‘Brundtland Commission’, published in 1987,[1] had borrowed the term from the 1980 IUCN/UNEP/WWF World Conservation Strategy, drafted under the guidance of the then Director-General of IUCN, Dr. David A. Munro (left) – distinguished Canadian forester and wildlife biologist (1923-2004).[2]

Canada’s oldest forest school is the Faculty of Forestry at the University of Toronto. Its founder (in 1907), and first dean until 1919, was a German forester, Bernhard Eduard Fernow (1851-1923) – who from 1886 to 1898 had served as the first chief of the US Division of Forestry (which later became the Forest Service within the Department of Agriculture).[3] Fernow was the architect of the 1891 Forest Reserve Act (part of the General Public Lands Reform Act of 3 March 1891), which laid the ground for ‘creative’ conservation measures on the federal public domain – and it comes as no surprise that he had originally studied law (at the University of Königsberg).[4] His successor as US chief forester was Gifford Pinchot (PhD in forestry, University of Munich 1898; founder of the Yale School of Forestry in 1900, now School of Forestry and Environmental Studies),[5] whose mentor and role-model had been another German forester, Sir Dietrich Brandis.[6] Brandis, after obtaining his PhD in botany at the University of Bonn, had joined the British colonial service in 1856 as ‘superintendent of forests’ in Burma, and from 1864 to 1883 served as first Inspector-General of Forests in India and Pakistan.[7] He was Rudyard Kipling’s legendary “gigantic German, head of the woods and forests of all India, head ranger from Burma to Bombay”.[8] His practices and principles of ‘sustained yield’ forest management – and those of his successors, Sir William [Wilhelm] Schlich (1840-1925, founder of the Royal Indian Forestry College at Cooper’s Hill, since 1905 at Oxford)[9] and Berthold Ribbentrop (1843-1917, Inspector-General of Indian Forests from 1885 to 1900)[10] – had a lasting influence on generations of foresters in North America, Asia, Australia and New Zealand.[11]

The theoretical basis for forest management, including the concept of ‘sustained yield’, had been developed in the 18th and 19th century at specialized forestry academies in Germany, such as Tharandt in Saxony and Münden in Hanover (where both Fernow and Ribbentrop graduated).[12] The pioneering scientific treatise on the subject was the ‘Sylvicultura Oeconomica’ (at top) published in 1713 by Johann [Hannss] Carl von Carlowitz (right, 1645-1714),[13] lawyer and manager of the Duke of Saxony’s silver mines (hence vitally dependent on long-term timber supplies!). It comprised the first formulations of such ‘post-modern’ terms as precaution [Praecaution, Vorsorge] for intergenerational benefits [den Nachkommen zum Besten], by sustained use [nachhaltende Nutzung]; and it was followed by other works now postulating a general policy of sustainable forest economics [nachhaltige Wirtschaft mit unseren Wäldern].[14]

Carlowitz in turn had drawn the inspiration for his innovative policies from multiple sources. After completing his legal studies at the University of Jena, he had taken the customary ‘grand tour’ of Europe in 1665-69, travelling to Italy, the Netherlands, Scandinavia, England and France. A focus of his attention at the time were the administrative reforms undertaken by Louis XIV’s powerful minister of finance, Jean-Baptiste Colbert (1619-1683, right); in particular, the great reorganization of French forestry governance which culminated in the ‘Ordonnance des eaux et forêts’ of 1669.[15] 

It must be kept in mind, though, that Colbert’s own concern for the conservation and sustainable use of France’s forest resources had very precise strategic motivations; i.e., the long-term security of timber supplies for the ship-building industry, which was the basis of French naval power.[16] Sure enough, there had been ominous historical warning signals before: The decline of Venetian maritime dominance in the Mediterranean during the 16th and early 17th century was widely attributed to timber shortages in naval construction, caused by deforestation.[17] It was no coincidence, therefore, that another contemporary pilot text which Carlowitz acknowledges among his source references – Sylva: A Discourse of Forest-Trees, and the Propagation of Timber in His Majesty’s Dominions (1664), by John Evelyn (English lawyer and writer, 1620-1706, educated at Oxford’s Balliol College and the Middle Temple, right)[18] – had been compiled and published at the request of the Commissioners of the British Navy.  After the Napoleonic Wars, Isaac D’Israeli noted that the fleets of Admiral Nelson had been constructed “with the oaks which the genius of Evelyn planted.”[19] For the same strategic reasons, Russian Tsar Peter I in 1703 had designated the oak forests of Kharkov and Simbirsk as permanent state reserves for ship timber;[20] and in 1817, the US Secretary of the Navy obtained statutory authorization to reserve public oak forest lands for ship-building.[21]

In retrospect, then, the concept of ‘sustainable development’ may indeed be said to have its historical roots in subtle power politics as much as in bona fide intergenerational equity.

Peter Sand on Karl Neumeyer as precursor of transnational environmental law

Alongside the thread on early environmental law courses, people have been wondering about the first environmental law textbook. Today Peter H. Sand, Lecturer in International Environmental Law at the University of Munich, joins us for a guest post on a contender for the title (see also his comment here). Peter writes [notes are after the jump]:

The history of international environmental law as an academic topic is generally associated with the emergence of treaties and case law on specific sectors such as shared watercourses, the oceans, or – from 1900 onwards – selected wildlife species. Doctrinal attempts at identifying common (trans-sectoral) elements, and a coherent discipline of international regulation and governance in this field, did not make their appearance until well into the second half of the 20^th century, with a prevailing and near-exclusive focus on public international law.

One notable exception was the pioneering work of Karl Alexander Neumeyer (1869-1941), who approached the subject from his distinct perspective of conflict of laws, in a monumental four-volume treatise titled Internationales Verwaltungsrecht (International Administrative Law, 1910-1936).[1] His life-time vision was the development of a new unified system of rules applicable to the transnational aspects of administrative law, to match the well-established conflict rules of private international law and procedure. And in the process, as part of an effort to demonstrate the pragmatic foundations of his approach in different sectors of public administration, he also assembled and analyzed a unique compendium of contemporary legal source materials that would indeed qualify today as typical ‘transnational environmental law’.

Chapter 8 in volume 2 of Neumeyer’s treatise (pp. 1-135), published in 1922, was headed Naturkräfte und Naturerzeugnisse (forces and products of nature). The first section, dealing with internationally shared water resources and water power, is based on the author’s earlier study of “water uses in international administrative law” (1915),[2] criticizing the rigid territorial sovereignty principle invoked by the Austrian Administrative High Court in the notorious 1913 Leitha River case,[3] and advocating the reciprocal protection of foreign legal interests along the lines of the 1909 US-Canadian Boundary Waters Treaty.[4] Other sections deal with the transboundary regulation of mineral resources; agriculture, forestry, hunting and fishing (based in part on the author’s early practical experience as law clerk at a district court in the Bavarian-Austrian border region); and the management and conservation of marine living resources, including a discussion of the 1893 Bering Sea fur seals arbitration.[5] Karl Neumeyer’s emphasis on the need for a mutual ‘other-regarding’ accommodation of foreign concerns, across the entire spectrum of nature-related topics, was way ahead of his times.

Neumeyer taught international law – with a focus on history and conflict of laws – at the University of Munich from 1901 onwards, until the Nazi regime forced him into retirement in 1934 because of his Jewish ancestry and barred him from continuing to work with the Hague Academy of International Law (where he had first lectured in 1923) and the Institut de Droit International (which had elected him to full membership in 1926).[6] Ultimately, when he was notified of the impending eviction from his house and the confiscation of his library, he and his wife decided to commit suicide on 16 July 1941.[7] There is a memorial tablet at their former home near the university; a Neumeyer-Strasse in the city; and in 2008, the Munich Law Faculty (whose dean he was in 1931-32) named the building that houses its Institute of International Law (which he had helped to create) in Karl Neumeyer’s honor and memory.