Your Honors,
I thank the Court for its forbearance in extending the deadline for this brief. I also apologize in advance for some repetitive language and citations between this brief and that which I filed in the previous iteration of this case. I re-include that content here not because I am worried your Honors will have overlooked it in my earlier brief, but rather for the historical record, so that a future reader can understand the full scope of the arguments presented in this case without referencing other case files. Without further throat clearing, I turn to the merits.
Petitioner’s challenge to the Resolution to Restore Regional Accountability should be rejected. First, the Resolution is not an ex post facto law. It is therefore fully consistent with the Charter. Second, even if this Court concludes that the Resolution does authorize ex post facto criminal proceedings, there is still no basis for declaring the Resolution “null and void” in its entirety as Petitioner requests. The Resolution has numerous civil applications that do not—and by their nature could not—violate the ex post facto clause. At most then, the Court should clarify that the Resolution cannot constitutionally be applied to authorize criminal proceedings for past conduct, but that its civil applications remain in force.
I. The Resolution is Not an Ex Post Facto Law
Contrary to Petitioner’s claims, the Resolution does not subject anyone to be “tried ex post facto” in violation of the Charter. See Charter III.(2). To see why requires clarifying the meaning of the Charter’s general prohibition on ex post facto trials. Much like the Bill of Attainder clause, the Charter does not expressly define the term “ex post facto.” But that is not particularly surprising. An ex post facto law is not a novel concept unique to our Charter; rather, it was a preexisting legal term of art with deep roots in the common law. See Collins v. Youngblood, 497 U.S. 37, 41 (1990) (noting that “ex post facto law” is “a term of art with an established meaning” dating back to at least the seventeenth century). Those who framed the Charter plucked the term from that context and adopted it as part of our law. And when “a word is obviously transplanted from another legal source, whether the common law or other legislation, it brings the old soil with it.” Frankfurter, Some Reflections on the Reading of Statutes, 47 Colum. L. Rev. 527, 537 (1947). Put differently, there was no need to define “ex post facto” laws in the Charter, as it simply incorporated the well-established meaning of that term. Since this Court has never issued an opinion interpreting the ex post facto clause, it is appropriate to consult external sources to ascertain its meaning.
To begin with, the prohibition on ex post facto legislation applies only to criminal laws. This limitation is supported by centuries of precedent. See, e.g., Collins, 497 U.S. at 41 (“Although the Latin phrase ‘ex post facto’ literally encompasses any law passed ‘after the fact,’ it has long been recognized” that it “applies only to penal statutes”); Watson v. Mercer, 33 U.S. (8 Pet.) 88, 110 (1834) (noting that “the phrase, ex post facto laws, is not applicable to civil laws, but to penal and criminal laws”); Calder v. Bull, 3 U.S. (3 Dall.) 386, 399 (1798) (opinion of Iredell, J.) (“[T]he true construction of the prohibition [on ex post facto laws] extends to criminal, not to civil, cases.”); 1 W. Blackstone, Commentaries on the Laws of England at 46 (1765) (describing the act of “making of laws, ex post facto” as “when after an action, indifferent in itself, is committed, the Legislator, then, for the first time, declares it to have been a crime, and inflicts a punishment upon the person who has committed it.”). The language of our Charter reinforces this long-established definition. It does not prohibit ex post facto laws in general, but only being “tried ex post facto,” Charter III.(2) (emphasis added), a clear reference to criminal trial, cf. Charter VII.(7) (“The High Court holds the sole power to conduct a criminal trial.”).
Moreover, only four categories of criminal laws are properly considered ex post facto. Specifically, a criminal law is impermissibly ex post facto if it:
(1) “[M]akes an action done before the passing of the law, and which was innocent when done, criminal; and punishes such action.”
(2) “[A]ggravates a crime, or makes it greater than it was, when committed.”
(3) “[C]hanges the punishment, and inflicts a greater punishment, than the law annexed to the crime, when committed.”
(4) “[A]lters the legal rules of evidence, and receives less, or different, testimony, than the law required at the time of the commission of the offense, in order to convict the offender.”
Calder, 3 U.S. (3 Dall.) at 390 (opinion of Chase, J.); Collins, 497 U.S. at 42 (describing the categories set forth in Calder as providing “an exclusive definition of ex post facto laws”); Carmell v. Texas, 529 U.S. 513, 539 (2000) (admonishing that it would be “a mistake to stray beyond Calder’s four categories”).
The Resolution does not fall within any of the foregoing categories. Notice that each category refers to laws that impose different or greater criminal liability for past conduct than that which could have been imposed under the criminal laws that were in force at the time when such conduct was committed. The Resolution does no such thing: It creates no crimes; it imposes no punishments. Nor does it impose criminal liability of any sort on coup participants that is greater than or different from that which could have lawfully been imposed upon them at the time of their conduct. If an alleged coup plotter’s actions were innocent under the criminal laws that were in force in 2015, then such actions are still innocent—the Resolution does not criminalize them. Likewise, if an alleged coup plotter’s actions were criminal at the time but subject only to particular punishments, the Resolution does not add to or increase the severity of those punishments. And so on. The Resolution simply repeals the Amnesty, which is well within the Assembly’s constitutional authority to do. Insofar as repealing the Amnesty has any effect on an alleged coup plotter’s criminal liability, it is only that anyone whose actions were criminal at the time they were committed may no longer raise the Amnesty as a defense to prosecution for such actions. That’s it.
Importantly, the Resolution does not purport to authorize or make lawful current prosecutions for past conduct notwithstanding all other provisions of TSP law. For instance, a defendant prosecuted today for actions related to the coup might argue that the criminal laws in effect at the time of the coup have been repealed, such that no prosecutions can be lawfully instituted under them. See Great Council 2016 Continuing Resolution 1.(1) (providing that “[a]ll previous laws of the Coalition will no longer have any legal force.”). In other words, even if that defendant’s actions were criminal in 2015, they might move to dismiss the prosecution because the statutes making them criminal are no longer operative. Alternatively, if a prosecution were instituted under a criminal law enacted after the coup, the defendant might challenge that prosecution on the grounds that application of today’s criminal law to past conduct would subject them to an ex post facto trial. Those may be good arguments, but they have nothing to do with the Resolution’s constitutionality. The Resolution does not purport to override any and all legal limitations on the imposition of criminal liability for actions committed during the coup. It removes only one such limitation—the Amnesty. Removing that limitation is manifestly not an imposition of ex post facto criminal liability, even if other provisions of law would prevent such prosecutions.
The Petitioner seems to resist this argument, suggesting that the Resolution’s declaration that those involved in the coup are “responsible” for their actions implicitly authorizes prosecutions for those actions in violation of TSP law. Even if this were a plausible interpretation of the Resolution (and it’s not), this Court should adopt the more limited reading of the Resolution advanced above. Where an act of the Assembly is reasonably susceptible to multiple interpretations, one of which would raise serious doubts about the constitutionality of the legislation and the other of which would not, this Court should adopt the latter interpretation and reconcile the act with the Charter. See In re Application of the Regional Communications Act , 2001.HQ; cf. Charter VII.(5) (authorizing this Court to “reconcile contradictions within the Charter, constitutional laws, general laws, and Executive Orders, maintaining the least amount of disruption to the intended purposes of the contradictory parts.”). This interpretive principle accords due respect to the Assembly by rightly presuming that it intends to pass only constitutional legislation. It avoids unnecessary conflict between coordinate branches. And it reserves this Court’s authority to invalidate democratically enacted legislation—a power of “great gravity and delicacy” in a democratic society—to only clear cases of unconstitutionality. See Ashwander v. Tennessee Valley Auth., 297 U.S. 288, 345 (1936) (Brandeis, J., concurring). When interpreted as simply repealing the Amnesty without altering any other legal defenses that may be available against prosecutions for past conduct, it is plain that the Resolution does not authorize any ex post facto trials.
II. The Resolution’s Civil Applications do not Implicate the Ex Post Facto Clause.
Even if this Court were to accept Petitioner’s argument that some applications of the Resolution authorize an ex post facto trial in violation of the Charter, that does not justify Petitioner’s requested remedy. The Petitioner asks this Court to declare the resolution “null and void” in its entirety. But there is no warrant for such a far-reaching ruling. A law is facially unconstitutional—and thus null and void in its entirety—only when it has no constitutional applications whatsoever. If some of a law’s applications are constitutional while others are not, then the proper course is for this Court to declare as much and limit the law’s reach to its permissible applications.
There is no doubt that the Resolution’s civil applications do not operate as ex post facto laws and are therefore fully constitutional. Indeed, the Petitioner does not even suggest otherwise, focusing his brief exclusively on potential criminal prosecutions. That makes sense. After all, as previously discussed, the ex post facto clause applies only to criminal laws; it has no bearing on the retroactive civil law. And the Resolution has numerous civil applications. For example, it enables the Council on Regional Security to consider a coup plotter’s past conduct in assessing whether they constitute a “significant risk to regional security” under the Citizenship Act. Indeed, the only time that the Resolution has been applied to date was in that civil context. See Review of the Rejection of Siberian Districts’ Citizenship Application, 24.03HR; see also Johannessen v. United States, 225 U.S. 227 (1912) (holding that a statute providing for retroactive revocation of citizenship was civil and therefore did not violate an an analogous ex post facto clause). As such, even on the erroneous view that application of the Resolution in criminal contexts operates as an unconstitutional ex post facto law, this Court should still reject Petitioner’s request to invalidate the Resolution in its entirety. Instead, it should clarify the limits of the Resolution’s constitutional application to civil contexts.