Does Israel Follow the Law? A Critical Analysis of Israel's Application of the International Law of Belligerent Occupation in the Occupied Territories

Israel's occupation of territories it captured in 1967 has become one of the longest and most controversial occupations of the last fifty years. Eschewing the traditional political analysis of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, this paper aims to explore whether Israel has adequately applied international law in the occupied territories, in particular, the law of belligerent occupation. The two actors under assessment are the Israeli government, particularly its military which enforces and maintains the law in the territories, and the Supreme Court of Israel, which has the power of review over military actions in the territories. The particular issues of the occupation that are critically analyzed are the general legal framework that Israel established in the territories, Israel's civilian settlement policy in territories, and Israel's construction of a barrier in the West Bank. This paper concludes that Israel has incorrectly applied the legal framework of belligerent occupation by refusing to apply the Fourth Geneva Convention; it has wrongly concluded that the establishment of civilian settlements in the territories conform with international law; yet it has rightly concluded that the construction of the barrier in the West Bank is permissible under international law, in contrast to the conclusion of the much publicized International Court of Justice's Advisory Opinion on the 'Wall.' Along with these general assessments, the author will also provide some historical and political insight into why the Israeli government and the Supreme Court may have applied the law in the way that they did.

The Daughters of Bridget McGhee

When Huxley proposed, Blythe imagined herself fifty years into the future at his funeral. He was such a good man, they’d say. Seventy-two is too young, they’d say. She’d nod and, she had imagined, remember this moment – them lounging in her bed during the early afternoon with the sunlight threatening to burst from behind the drawn shades, him lying on his side with his left arm anchored around her waist, and the tickle of his thumb as he traced circles on her bellybutton. She rubbed her nose against his neck and breathed. His scent was different from that of Walter. Huxley smelled of pears and basil. Walter smelled of leather and soap. She didn’t smell Walter intentionally, of course. He walked into the White Dog the prior day while she was drinking a mint-mocha cappuccino and studying for an exam on medical physiology. The wind whiffed his odor towards her. She didn’t look at him, but she couldn’t stop from inhaling. “People get married after college,” Huxley swung his right leg over and straddled her, forcing her to look at him. “It’s almost been a year since we graduated. It’s what we should do.” She had wondered if he could donate organs if he were seventy-two years old. Not his liver or heart or anything like that, of course, but maybe his eyes. It’d be a shame if they couldn’t preserve his eyes. She noticed them first: they were alert and misty blue, like Santa’s. But then she wondered if eye characteristics like color were even changed during cornea transplants. Walter had plain brown eyes. She hated brown eyes. She told people that she had brown eyes, because they were dark and no one ever looked close enough. Except Huxley. They were at dinner with mutual friends and were talking about eye color, and how they all wished that theirs were like those of the young Afghan girl on the 1985 cover of National Geographic.