The G8’s pronouncements have many names except for ‘law’ – but, argues Polly Botsford, the political pressure it brings to bear can be even more powerful


The statements that emerged from the latest G8 summit, held in Heiligendamm on the Baltic coast, were referred to as ‘pledges’, ‘communiqués’, ‘agreements’ and ‘declarations’. The paperwork is full of ‘commitments’, ‘recommitments’ (the sequel?), ‘considerations’ and ‘conclusions’.



When something has as many labels as G8 policy appears to, it is hard to pinpoint exactly what the nature of it is. The one label you will not see used, however, is ‘laws’. So, at least it is clear what G8 policy is not: it is not legally binding.



This begs the question: if G8 policy has no legal effect, what is the point of it at all? Without the hidden dagger of legal repercussions, why wear the cloak? The reason may be that it is politically binding – and on the international stage, those political and diplomatic ties are probably even stronger.



Made up of the seven leading industrialised nations (the US, the UK, Germany, Italy, France, Japan, and Canada) and Russia, the Group of 8 was set up in 1975 during the frost of the Cold War and the heat of the oil crisis. Since then, the G8’s basic structure has stayed the same; it meets only once a year, it is entirely voluntary, it has no headquarters, no permanent staff, and – crucially – no budget. In fact, the G8 itself is strangely quick to point out that it is only an ‘informal forum’ and stresses that it is not an ‘international organisation’.



It produces agreed policies on the major topics of the day: currently climate change, AIDS and Africa, as well as the less-headlined issues of nuclear non-proliferation and counter-terrorism measures.



But, critics argue, those polices are often promises that are refashioned each time round rather than creating enforceable legal instruments. The G8 in St Petersburg last year pledged to get trade agreements in place and to push for fulfilment of the Doha Development Agenda of trade liberalisation talks (known as the Doha round). Exactly one year later, the G8 in Heiligendamm simply said the same thing in a different way, stressing the ‘need for an ambitious and wide-ranging agreement’ in the Doha round.



Policies do not push for new international laws; rather, they simply reinforce existing ones. On counter-terrorism, for instance, the G8 stated: ‘We continue to call on all UN member states to further strengthen the global legal framework… by ratifying and fully implementing... international counter-terrorism conventions and protocols’. This is merely committing to agreements that already exist, not creating new binding international agreements.



There is no legal accountability for the headline pledges to increase aid, particularly those made at Gleneagles in 2005, so they have no binding force. Because of this, charities such as Oxfam believe the G8 countries are already behind on their aid levels promised only two years ago.



So if the G8 is informal, and the policies that it reaches are not legally binding, why have it at all? To begin with, those policies could develop into ‘customary international law’ – binding law that derives from state practices. As Professor Gwyn Prins, director of the Mackinder Centre at the London School of Economics, explains: ‘It is possible that “custom” – that is, something which is currently done and has been done – turns into something more normative, something more black and white. For instance, custom has shaped the way that new issues are brought before the UN. Ten or 20 years ago, the UN did not deal with climate change or HIV. These are now issues that are brought before the Security Council.’



Seen in this context, as a precursor to something legal, the G8 begins to make a bit more sense.



Consider climate change. On the face of it, the Heiligendamm summit failed to set targets on limiting carbon emissions to counter-act climate change. As Greenpeace UK director John Sauven states: ‘An agreement without targets is barely worth the paper it’s written on.’



But the G8 did ‘accept responsibility to show leadership in tackling climate change’, and confirmed that it would ‘consider seriously’ the notion of halving global emissions by 2050, and that ‘the UN is the appropriate forum’ to do that.


Bono called it ‘bureaubabble’, but this is a discernible shift in the standpoint of the states involved and it may lead to a successor to the Kyoto Protocol and fresh commitments flowing from the original treaty, the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC). In this way, the G8 makes pledges that are politically if not legally binding – and maybe the former leads to the latter.


This is particularly the case with regard to the way the G8 opens channels for ministerial-level working groups. These groups often directly affect international agreements and do get things done. Professor Eileen Denza, visiting professor at University College London and a former legal counsel to the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, explains: ‘You get situations where an international organisation such as the IAEA [International Atomic Energy Agency] may be working on a non-proliferation agreement which the G8 does not fully agree with. The G8 ministers will discuss it, perhaps prepare a paper, and come to a decision at a meeting about whether or not to support it.’



Similarly, at the 2005 summit, the wiping out of debt for highly indebted poor countries was an agreement made at the ministerial level – in this case, that of the G8 finance ministers – and this policy has been implemented.



More importantly, the bonds of politics may be stronger at an international level than any legal bond. The treaties, conventions and protocols of international law are often difficult to uphold, and the ramifications for a breach of these agreements are not as severe as one might expect.



Without a permanent ‘higher body’ to which all states turn (the UN is not there yet), international laws are only as good as the states that make – and break – them. Consequently, breaches happen all the time. As Tim Daniel, a partner at City firm Kendall Freeman and a member of the firm’s public international law group, says: ‘In international law, there are no real mechanisms for enforcement.’



Instead, international law is upheld through political pressure and diplomatic measures. Professor Denza explains: ‘The primitive nature of its courts and tribunals means it is dealt with by states imposing “counter-measures” on other states which breach agreements. This is particularly the case on trade agreements, where the US and the EU often play protectionist tit-for-tat.’



Take the Kyoto Protocol, which binds those signatories that have ratified the agreement to reducing carbon emissions. The enforcement branch set up by the protocol has the power to insist that those parties that have not complied within the time frame make up those reductions over an extended period, plus a further 30% reduction on top. Not exactly the punitive sanctions that may persuade reluctant states.



But what might make Kyoto and other agreements like it work is public embarrassment at the G8 summit on the part of states that do not keep their side of the bargain. The summit holds nations to account in a very public way, and ‘the credibility of leaders is at stake’, Mr Daniel reckons.



An Oxfam spokeswoman agrees: ‘When the G8 makes promises, you can’t hold them legally responsible, but you can hold them morally responsible, which can get you the same result.’



So perhaps the G8 is doing more than it is given credit for after all. But, of course, this is politics, so it is probably not doing as much as it says it is.



Polly Botsford is a freelance journalist