Editor’s note: Imke B.L.H. van Gardingen (LLM Int. and EU labour law, MA Korean Studies) is a policy advisor on labour migration at the Dutch Federation of Trade Unions (FNV) and a researcher on DPRK overseas labour.

On November 8, 2018 a North Korean overseas worker who had worked in slave like conditions for a Polish shipyard, a supplier of a Dutch shipbuilding company, has filed a criminal complaint against the Dutch firm. The Dutch Penal Code, article 273f(6), includes a provision criminalizing the act of ‘profiting’ from labour exploitation, targeting not the direct perpetrators in the labour exploitation, but the ones profiting from this exploitation. This is a unique case that aims to hold the company at the top of the chain accountable for modern slavery in its supply chain. A chain that in the case of shipbuilding is rather short; the buyer subcontracts the core business of building the complete hull under detailed instructions cheaply abroad.

Research on DPRK workers in Poland
The case of the DPRK workers in two Polish shipyards was brought to light in two reports, published by the LeidenAsiaCentre (available online here and here), a research institute affiliated with Leiden University.[1] In this research we demonstrated how well documented the case of the exploitation of DPRK workers in Poland is. Due to EU-mandated minute record-keeping and frequent inspections by the labour inspectorate, a very precise picture was obtained of how the workers work, live, and are managed. How they are or are not paid and who their actual or paper employers were, as well as under what specific circumstances they work. In both reports it was established that the working conditions and the situation of DPRK workers amount to labour exploitation. What makes the EU case particularly interesting is that the rights of migrant workers in the EU are quite well protected, at least on paper. This offers interesting angles to explore concrete routes in the context of the EU legal arena.[2]

Explanation of the case
DPRK workers are recruited in North Korea to work overseas. The selection criteria range from being a loyal party member to being married and preferably having children to secure the risk of defection. Only shortly before departure do the workers receive information on the country they will go to; the travel is arranged for and mostly through North Korean embassies abroad. Upon arrival the workers hand in their passports and start working right away without ever receiving a working contract, having a bank account or obtaining knowledge on the working conditions and height of the salary. The workers are mostly employed by a DPRK company registered in Poland or a Polish-North Korean joint venture and detached to other companies, which is often illegal according to their working permits. As contractors, the DPRK companies of the joint ventures receive payment for the assignment. A fraction of that amount is paid to the workers. There is a wide gap between the formal monthly payment, of which the payslips with falsified signatures are included in the labour inspection report, and the payment the workers actually receive. The payment is irregular, sometimes once a month, but mostly not. Also the amount of the payment is variable, it can range from a few dollars to a few hundred dollars a month, minus arbitrary deductions for housing, but also party loyalty fees. The Labour Inspectorate has often reported hazardous working situations, and also documented one fatal accident where none of the required safety measures were met. Workers live in poor conditions; too cramped, moisty with fungus causing headaches, without proper washing facilities so workers had to wash on the working site. Excessive overwork is common as workers are presented as never having to take a rest and as being able to work continuously, day and night 7 days a week. And being DPRK citizens, they are not free to leave from the worksite, nor to anyplace else.

All in all, it is safe to conclude that the labour of DPRK workers in Poland can be labelled as ‘forced labour’, as is also confirmed by the Polish labour inspectorate in the documentaries ‘Cash for Kim’ and ‘Dollar Heroes’ (produced by the Why Foundation in a series called ‘Why Slavery’), the UN special rapporteur on DPRK and the US report  on human trafficking. The question then is who can be held accountable for violating the labour and human rights of DPRK workers and account for the profits made as a consequence of these violations.[3] The DPRK supplying the workers, the direct or indirect employers as the perpetrators, subsidiaries or business partners giving the orders and profiting from it, or all of them? The issue of liability can shift from fault based liability to strict liability, which could be justified by the fact that all the parties involved profited from –intolerable - slave labour.

Our first and second report on DPRK labour in Poland have shown that Polish Shipbuilding companies in Gdynia and in Szczecin work together closely with Dutch Shipbuilding partners on financing vessels, supplying parts, project management, technical know-how, security, obtaining quality certificates and sharing EU funding.[4] The cases offer sufficient proof of close partnership and cooperation. The key question is whether in the case of proved abuse and labour exploitation, the Dutch legal framework can be used to hold the partner companies accountable. If so, companies could also be held accountable for criminal offenses if the exploitation is deemed severe enough to fulfil the conditions enshrined in Article 273 of the Dutch Penal Code, and specifically Article 273f(6), criminalising ‘profiting from the exploitation of a person’. Prof. Ryngaert from Utrecht University believes it is a very real possibility. He states,

It is the territorial benefit which a corporation draws from exploitive practices, regardless of location, that serves as the jurisdictional linchpin. Accordingly, Article 273f(6) of the Dutch Penal Code creates opportunities to trigger Dutch jurisdiction over corporations linked to acts of exploitation somewhere down the supply chain, and ultimately hold them liable.[5]

In terms of liability he argues,

In general however, it can be stated that a corporation's liability will be engaged when it consciously accepted the risk that the goods it bought were produced in substandard conditions, including conditions of labour exploitation, even if the corporations did not intend such conditions to occur, and if the corporation did not have positive knowledge of the conditions

It is now up to the Dutch Prosecution Office whether they will take up the case and prosecute the suspected Dutch company for ‘profiting’ from labour exploitation. There will be legal counter-arguments raised, but other considerations will undoubtably also play a role. Such as the lack of capacity at the Dutch prosecution office that is severely understaffed, pressure from politicians and businesses who might prioritize short term economic interests. In any event, it will be an important and interesting case to follow. For the value of this case in particular, but  also for the window it might open for other cases in which workers are exploited to the benefit of the corporations sitting at the top of the chain.

A recent Dutch judgment from May 2018 is interesting in this respect, it involved the managing director of a Dutch large shipping company who was held liable for wrongdoings happening in –amongst other places- Bangladesh and who was sentenced to a fine of €50.000 and disqualified from his profession for a year.[6] Primarily, this case focussed on environmental offenses. The managing director violated ‘the stipulations of the European Regulation (EG) Nr. 1013/2006 of the European Parliament and the council of 14 June 2006 with regard to the transfer of waste materials (EWSR).’[7] But the following considerations are also included in the judgment and have played an important role in it:

Besides, the working conditions are appalling. The ships are manually scrapped by untrained labourers, who do not have the knowledge and expertise to recognize hazardous materials to take precautions and to follow procedures and who do not get sufficient protective clothing and auxiliary materials either. With such scrapping practices, several people are killed annually. Moreover, there is still child labour in the scrapping companies in Bangladesh.
The suspect has closed his eyes to this problem, of which certainly he as an executive director of a large shipping company must have been aware. With his considerations, he obviously only has had eyes for the commercial interest of the companies for which he was responsible.[8]

Furthermore, the judges concluded in their judgment:

‘[…] a fine in itself does not do justice to the severity of the facts. That is why a disqualification from his profession for the duration of one year will be imposed on the suspect. That also expresses the social importance that should be attached to an integer management. The suspect in particular, as CFO of a large company, who also bears final responsibility for the management, may be expected to take the additional social consequences of the performance of his tasks into consideration beside the business economic consequences of his decision, such as in this case the negative consequences for the environment and the health of the labourers in the shipbreaking yards. [9]

The suspect was therefore convicted of a ‘fine of €50,000,-, in default of full payment and full recovery to be replace by 285 days of detention’ and imposed ‘as an additional punishment on the suspect a disqualification of the right to practice the profession of (direct or indirect) executive director, supervisory board member, advisor or employee with a shipping company of any part thereof, such for the duration of 1 (one) year.’[10]

To conclude, the criminal complaint of the North Korean worker is potentially a ground-breaking complaint to enhance the accountability of Dutch corporations for labour exploitation occurring in their supply chains. The ball is now in the court of the prosecutor’s office, it’s up to them to decide whether they choose to let the corporations off the hook or to tackle the issue of slavery and forced labour in supply chains head-on by criminalising the irresponsible behaviour of certain corporations.

[1] Remco Breuker & Imke van Gardingen (eds.), North Korean Forced Labour in the EU, the Polish case: How the Supply of a Captive DPRK workforce fits our demand for cheap labour, Leiden: LeidenAsiaCentre, 2016; Remco Breuker & Imke van Gardingen (eds.), People for Profit; North Korean Forced Labour on a Global Scale, Leiden: LeidenAsiaCentre, 2018.

[2] The conclusions are substantiated in detail in a chapter forthcoming and to be published by Seoul National University.

[3] This question of accountability also raised and examined in more detail in the report, People for Profit, See Imke van Gardingen, ‘Accountability for DPRK Workers in the Value Chain: The Case of Partner Shipyard, a Polish Shipbuilder and its Dutch Partners’, p. 12-42

[4] The case study on Partner Shipyard and the possible legal routes, is extensively laid out in People for Profit, See Imke van Gardingen, ‘Accountability for DPRK Workers in the Value Chain: The Case of Partner Shipyard, a Polish Shipbuilder and its Dutch Partners’, p. 12-42

[5] See Cedric Ryngaert, ‘Domestic Criminal Accountability for Dutch Corporations Profiting from North Korean Forced Labour,’ in People for profit. p. 201

[6] Judgment of the court of Rotterdam, three-judge economic division for criminal matters, Court of Rotterdam, date of judgment: 15-03-2018, case number: 10/994550-15, p. 1 (translated version)

[7] Ibid., p. 2

[8] Ibid., p. 34

[9] Ibid., p. 35

[10] Ibid., p. 36-37

Editor’s note: Shamistha Selvaratnam is a LLM Candidate of the Advanced Masters of European and International Human Rights Law at Leiden University in the Netherlands. Prior to commencing the LLM, she worked as a business and human rights solicitor in Australia where she specialised in promoting business respect for human rights through engagement with policy, law and practice.

Since the release of the first draft of the BHR Treaty (from herein referred to as the ‘treaty’), a range of views have been exchanged by commentators in the field in relation to the content of the treaty (a number of them are available on a dedicated page of the Business and Human Rights Resource Centre’s website). While many have stated that the treaty is a step in the right direction to imposing liability on businesses for human rights violations, there are a number of critiques of the first draft, which commentators hope will be rectified in the next version.

This second blog of a series of articles dedicated to the proposed BHR Treaty provides a review of the key critiques of the treaty. It will be followed by a final blog outlining some recommendations for the working group’s upcoming negotiations between 15 to 19 October 2018 in Geneva.

Critiques of the Treaty

Scope

As stated in the first blog post, the treaty applies to ‘business activities of a transnational character’. This aspect of the treaty has been criticised by many for being too limited as it makes a distinction between businesses that have activities abroad and those that do not, and it only imposes obligations on States to implement the treaty requirements with respect to the former.[1] By doing so, the treaty does not align with the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights (UNGPs) and suggests that all businesses should not be held equally responsible.

Larry Catá Backer, Professor at Pennsylvania State University, comments that the limitation of the scope of the treaty detracts from the assertion in the preamble that human rights are ‘universal, indivisible, interdependent and inter-related’ as the scope is ‘defined in a way to effectively protect local business …from effective compliance with thew high values’. [2] He notes that cynics may see this as ‘an effort to protect the local economies of certain states’ and perhaps a confirmation that ‘only certain states and their citizens [are] mature enough to undertake the burdens of legal responsibility, in this case for human rights.’[3]

The Business & Human Rights Resource Centre’s experience has shown that ‘allegations of corporate abuse are made against both national and international companies and national laws currently too often provide no adequate protection or remedy from either source of abuse.’[4] Accordingly, if the scope of the treaty is not altered, it will effectively deprive victims of human rights violations committed by businesses with exclusively domestic activities from obtaining redress under the treaty.

With respect to the definition of ‘business activities of a transnational character’, Professor John Ruggie notes that it is unclear and unnecessarily narrow such that it will be difficult to operationalise as it is ‘nowhere defined in the law or the social sciences’.[5] Accordingly, there may be difficulties in ‘monitoring and attributing legal liability’, particularly given the complex nature of global supply chains. [6] He also states that it could ‘exclude state-owned enterprises (SOEs) engaged in transnational business activity whose mission is not strictly profit-driven’.[7] As Professor Baker notes, ‘SOEs occupy an increasingly important place in the global economic order’ and the lack of clarity as to whether covered by the scope of the treaty is ‘troublesome’.[8]

Scale

The treaty has been criticised for its scale, that is, ‘the magnitude of the task at hand in seeking to regulate transnational business enterprises or ‘activities’.’ [9] Despite the lack of clarity surrounding the definition of ‘business activities of a transnational character’, it would capture a large number of businesses and their operations and activities. Professor Ruggie notes that it should be ensured that the ‘instrumentalities for monitoring and provisions for attributing legal liability are up to the magnitude of the task.’ [10] Surya Deva, Associate Professor of the School of Law of the City University of Hong Kong, notes that the number of entities captured could not be ‘regulated effectively by each state acting alone’; therefore, he suggests that States take collective action under the treaty. [11] 

Imposition of obligations on businesses

To date, the international legal personality of corporations and the ability to hold corporations responsible for human rights violations under international law is not settled. Accordingly, the treaty does not impose human rights obligations directly on businesses; instead it seeks to indirectly impose obligations on businesses by providing States with the primary responsibility to adopt legislation that is consistent with the treaty requirements.[12] Professor Nicolás Carrillo-Santarelli, Professor of Law at La Sabana University, notes that ‘this approach coincides with the archetype of international law dealing with non-state conduct indirectly, through the mediation of required domestic law and State action’.[13] It has been argued that the treaty ‘fail[s] to genuinely innovate beyond existing principles of public international law’ and, as a result, give corporations the ability to continue to ‘hide their failure to act behind the alleged shortcomings of states’.[14] Associate Professor Deva argues that the treaty ‘should state explicitly the obligation of businesses to respect of internationally recognised human rights’, and that the treaty, as currently drafted, ‘will not work’ as the treaty provides for legal liability but does not clearly impose a corporate obligation to respect human rights.[15]

Notably, the preamble of the treaty states that all businesses shall respect human rights, regardless of their ‘size, sector, operational context, ownership and structure’, which Professor Carrillo-Santarelli considers could suggest that the direct corporate obligations exist because the word ‘shall’ has a ‘strong obligation connotation’.[16] He also points out that it could be read that ‘all corporations … are under binding responsibilities to respect human rights.’[17] However, on the face of the treaty, it is unclear. Nonetheless, ratification of the treaty may be viewed as ‘expression of certain opinio juris on the existence of corporate duties that are implicitly and indirectly’ in the treaty.[18]

Intersection with investment law

Another critique of the treaty is how it deals with trade and investment treaties. Pursuant to article 13(3), the treaty does not have any primacy over existing State obligations under relevant treaties.[19] Accordingly, victims of human rights abuses that arise in the context of those trade and investment treaties will not be able to rely on the treaty. As noted by Carlos Lopez, the treaty pays ‘scant attention to the role of the State and the need for accountability and remedy in that context’.[20] Nonetheless, pursuant to article 13(6), new trade and investment treaties must not contain any provisions that conflict with the implementation of the treaty and should “[uphold] human rights in the context of business activities by parties benefiting from such agreements.”

Due diligence

The treaty has been praised for including an article on prevention of human rights violations which imposes a prescriptive list of measures to be undertaken by businesses in order to conduct due diligence (for example, reporting publically and periodically on non-financial matters). Associate Professor Deva argues that, in addition to ensuring that the due diligence process in the treaty aligns with the UNGPs, it should also be informed by best practice recommendations, for example, the European Coalition for Corporate Justice’s Position Paper on the ‘Key Features of Mandatory Human Rights Due Diligence Legislation’, to ensure that consistent processes are implemented by businesses.[21]

Nonetheless, the due diligence article (article 9) have been critiqued because it departs from the human rights due diligence process set out in the UNGPs. The UNGPs defines the parameters of human rights due diligence and sets out a four-step process to be carried out by businesses. Businesses should ‘identify, prevent, mitigate and account for how they address their adverse human rights impacts’.[22] While the treaty broadly covers each of these steps (for example, It requires businesses to identify and assess human rights violations), it goes further than the UNGPs and requires businesses to undertake a number of other measures, including reflecting due diligence requirements in their contractual relationships. In practice, this diversion may cause confusion for businesses that have implemented due diligence processes that align with the UNGPs.

Further, the ability for State Parties to exempt small and medium-sized businesses from the due diligence requirements in the treaty (article 9(5)) has been criticised on the basis that it ‘may be abusively taken advantage of by developing or other States in order to favor the “impunity” of abuses perpetrated or assisted by ‘strategic’ corporations or in ‘strategic sectors’.’ [23]

Separately, Professor Ruggie notes that a very high standard is imposed with respect to prevention of harm – the treaty requires businesses “to prevent” harm, which is ‘an extremely tall order for any due diligence requirement, which typically is expressed as “seek to prevent,” suggesting a standard of conduct.’[24] This language is reflected in article 13 of the UNGPs, which calls on businesses to ‘seek to prevent or mitigate adverse human rights impacts’ and, accordingly, use of this language in the treaty would align it with the UNGPs.

Legal liability

As stated in the first blog post, article 10.6 of the treaty provides three grounds upon which businesses may be held civilly liable for human rights violations in connection with their activities, namely:

a. to the extent it exercises control over the operations; or

b. to the extent it exhibits a sufficiently close relation with its subsidiary or entity in its supply chain and where there is strong and direct connection between its conduct and the wrong suffered by the victim; or

c. to the extent risk have been foreseen or should have been foreseen of human rights violations within its chain of economic activity. 

This article has been criticised due to its lack of clarity, particularly with the use of the following words and phrases: ‘control’, ‘sufficiently close’, ‘strong and direct connection’ and ‘foreseen’.[25] None of these words or phrases are defined in the treaty, and no guidance is provided on how they should be interpreted. Doug Cassel, Professor Emeritus of Law at the University of Notre Dame, has stated that the language needs to be ‘made more precise … to avoid clashing with entrenched national law doctrines that limit piercing of the corporate veil.’[26]

With respect to criminal liability, as Professor Carrillo-Santarelli notes, it is disappointing that State Parties would only be required, pursuant to article 10(8), to ‘provide measures under domestic law to establish criminal liability for all persons with business activities of a transnational character’, as violations of human rights are violations regardless of whether they are committed through domestic or transnational business activities. [27] Further, it is unclear from the face of the treaty as to whether businesses will be held criminally liable under the treaty, or only individuals. Nadia Bernaz, Associate Professor of Law of Wageningen University, notes that if the treaty does not include corporate criminal liability, there is a greater likelihood that it will be accepted.[28] However, she also argues that ideally international corporate criminal liability for international crimes should be included in the treaty, particularly given that the treaty does not impose direct corporate liability.[29]

Rights of victims

While the treaty’s focus on the rights of victims is likely to be viewed as its ‘key positive feature’, Professor Backer argues that the definition of the term ‘victims’ may ‘cause some concern’. [30] ‘Victims’ are defined to mean ‘persons who individually or collectively alleged to have suffered harm, including physical or mental injury’ (article 4). Professor Backer claims that this definition could ‘appear to divide the world between victims … and everyone else’ and that it seems to ‘incapacitate’ victims as a class because it suggests that they are ‘not individuals who can act but who must be guided and protected like children’.[31] He suggests that victims should be identified as ‘individuals to which certain rights vest’, that is, as rights holders.[32] 

Additionally, commentators have also criticised article 8(5)(d) which states that ‘in no case shall victims be required to reimburse any legal expenses of the other party to the claim.’ Professor Lopez notes that this article ‘may be seen as an incentive to frivolous litigation’.[33] Professor Carrillo-Santarelli agrees with Professor Lopez’s comment and adds that article 8(5)(d) along with article 8(6) (which states that ‘States shall not require victims to provide a warranty as a condition for commencing proceedings’) ‘could be taken advantage of to smear the reputation of some corporations when there are no grounds.’[34]

Enforcement

The treaty does not establish any sort of international enforcement or complaint mechanism to provide victims with redress. However, the absence of such mechanisms is said to be likely to make the treaty more attractive to State Parties.[35]

Although there is no international mechanism, the Optional Protocol has attempted to address concerns relating to lack of enforcement by requiring State Parties to establish a National Implementation Mechanism ‘to promote compliance with, monitor and implement’ the treaty. Further details on the role and function of this mechanism are set out in the first blog post.

Conclusion

Despite the flaws of the treaty that have been noted by commentators, overall commentators have welcomed the introduction of a treaty on business and human rights. The treaty is viewed as a step forward in addressing critical issues including preventing human rights violations by businesses and ensuring access to remedy for victims of such violations. However, it is clear that the treaty will need to be refined and clarified before it has any chance of being adopted by States.

[1] Alison Berthet, Peter Hood and Julianne Hughes-Jennett (Hogan Lovells), ‘UN treaty on business and human rights: Working Group publishes draft instrument’; Carlos Lopez, ‘Towards an International Convention on Business and Human Rights (Part I)’; Nicolás Carrillo-Santarelli, ‘Some Observations and Opinions on the “Zero” Version of the Draft Treaty on Business and Human Rights (Part I)’; Phil Bloomer and Maysa Zorob (Business & Human Rights Resource Centre), ‘Another Step on the Road? What does the “Zero Draft” Treaty mean for the Business and Human Rights movement?’; Sara McBreaty, ‘The Proposed Business and Human Rights Treaty: Four Challenges and an Opportunity’.

[2] Larry Catá Backer, Making Sausages?: Preliminary Thoughts on the "Zero-Draft," the first official draft of the legally binding instrument to regulate, in international human rights law, the activities of transnational corporations and other business enterprises.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Phil Bloomer and Maysa Zorob (Business & Human Rights Resource Centre), ‘Another Step on the Road? What does the “Zero Draft” Treaty mean for the Business and Human Rights movement?’.

[5] John Ruggie, ‘Comments on the “Zero Draft” Treaty on Business & Human Rights’.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Larry Catá Backer, Making Sausages?: Preliminary Thoughts on the "Zero-Draft," the first official draft of the legally binding instrument to regulate, in international human rights law, the activities of transnational corporations and other business enterprises.

[9] John Ruggie, ‘Comments on the “Zero Draft” Treaty on Business & Human Rights’.

[10] Ibid.

[11] Surya Deva, ‘The Zero Draft of the Proposed Business and Human Rights Treaty, Part II: On the Right Track, but Not Ready Yet’.

[12] Nadia Bernaz, ‘The Draft UN Treaty on Business and Human Rights: the Triumph of Realism over Idealism’.

[13] Nicolás Carrillo-Santarelli, ‘Some Observations and Opinions on the “Zero” Version of the Draft Treaty on Business and Human Rights (Part I)’.

[14] Charlie Holt, Shira Stanton and Daniel Simons (Greenpeace), ‘The Zero Draft Legally Binding Instrument on Business and Human Rights: Small Steps along the Irresistible Path to Corporate Accountability’.

[15] Surya Deva, ‘The Zero Draft of the Proposed Business and Human Rights Treaty, Part II: On the Right Track, but Not Ready Yet’; European Coalition for Corporate Justice’s Position, ‘Key Features of Mandatory Human Rights Due Diligence Legislation’ (June 2018).

[16] Nicolás Carrillo-Santarelli, ‘Some Observations and Opinions on the “Zero” Version of the Draft Treaty on Business and Human Rights (Part I)’.

[17] Ibid.

[18] Ibid.

[19] Doug Cassel, ‘At Last: A Draft UN Treaty on Business and Human Rights’.

[20] Carlos Lopez, ‘Towards an International Convention on Business and Human Rights (Part I)’.

[21] Surya Deva, ‘The Zero Draft of the Proposed Business and Human Rights Treaty, Part II: On the Right Track, but Not Ready Yet’.

[22] UNGPs, principle 17.

[23] Nicolás Carrillo-Santarelli, ‘Some Observations and Opinions on the “Zero” Version of the Draft Treaty on Business and Human Rights (Part II)’.

[24] John Ruggie, ‘Comments on the “Zero Draft” Treaty on Business & Human Rights’.

[25] Doug Cassel, ‘At Last: A Draft UN Treaty on Business and Human Rights’; John Ruggie, ‘Comments on the “Zero Draft” Treaty on Business & Human Rights’.

[26] Ibid.

[27] Nicolás Carrillo-Santarelli, ‘Some Observations and Opinions on the “Zero” Version of the Draft Treaty on Business and Human Rights (Part I)’.

[28] Nadia Bernaz, ‘The Draft UN Treaty on Business and Human Rights: the Triumph of Realism over Idealism’.

[29] Ibid.

[30] Larry Catá Backer, Making Sausages?: Preliminary Thoughts on the "Zero-Draft," the first official draft of the legally binding instrument to regulate, in international human rights law, the activities of transnational corporations and other business enterprises.

[31] Ibid.

[32] Ibid.

[33] Carlos Lopez, ‘Towards an International Convention on Business and Human Rights (Part II)’.

[34] Nicolás Carrillo-Santarelli, ‘Some Observations and Opinions on the “Zero” Version of the Draft Treaty on Business and Human Rights (Part II)’.

[35] Doug Cassel, ‘At Last: A Draft UN Treaty on Business and Human Rights’; Surya Deva, ‘The Zero Draft of the Proposed Business and Human Rights Treaty, Part II: On the Right Track, but Not Ready Yet’.