concurring:
This ease grows out of an armed attack on a civilian bus in Israel on March 11,1978. Appellants (plaintiffs below) are sixty-five of the persons seriously injured in the attack and the survivors of twenty-nine of the persons killed. Appellees (defendants below) are the Libyan Arab Republic (“Libya”), the Palestine Liberation Organization (“PLO”), the Palestine Information Office (“PIO”), and the National Association of Arab Americans (“NAAA”).1 Appellants alleged in their complaint that appellees were responsible for the 1978 attack, and they sought compensatory and punitive damages. Specifically, appellants charged appellees with tort's committed in violation of international law and of some treaties and statutes of the United States as well as with commission of and conspiracy to commit various intentional common law torts. Jurisdiction over the common law tort *799counts is pendent and will fail if the other counts fail.
The district court dismissed the action for lack of subject matter jurisdiction.I. 2 Hanoeh Tel-Oren v. Libyan Arab Republic, 517 F.Supp. 542 (D.D.C.1981). We agree that the complaint must be dismissed, although our reasons for agreement differ. I believe, as did the district court, that, in the circumstances presented here, appellants have failed to state a cause of action sufficient to support jurisdiction under either of the statutes on which they rely. 28 U.S.C. §§ 1331,1350 (1976 & Supp. V 1981).3 Neither the law of nations nor any of the relevant treaties provides a cause of action that appellants may assert in courts of the United States. Furthermore, we should not, in an area such as this, infer a cause of action not explicitly given. In reaching this latter conclusion, I am guided chiefly by separation of powers principles, which caution courts to avoid potential interference with the political branches’ conduct of foreign relations.
I.
According to the complaint, on March 8, 1978, thirteen heavily armed members of the PLO left Lebanon for Israel. They were under instructions from the PLO to seize and hold Israeli civilians in ransom for the release of PLO members incarcerated in Israel jails. If their plans broke down, the terrorists were to kill their hostages.
The complaint’s allegations of what happened upon the terrorists’ arrival in Israel constitute a tale of horror. Since my analysis does not turn upon the particulars of those events, they need not be described in detail. The thirteen terrorists landed by boat and, after killing an American photographer they encountered on the beach, made their way to the main highway between Haifa and Tel Aviv. There they stopped and seized a civilian bus, a taxi, a passing car, and, later, a second civilian bus, taking the passengers hostage. While proceeding toward Tel Aviv with their many hostages gathered in the first bus, the terrorists fired on and killed numerous occupants of passing cars as well as some of their own passengers. They also tortured some of their hostages.
The police finally brought the terrorist-controlled bus to a halt by shooting at the tires and engine of the bus as it passed through a police barricade. The terrorists reacted by shooting a number of their hostages and, eventually, by blowing up the bus with grenades. As a result of the terrorists’ actions, twenty-two. adults and twelve children were killed, and sixty-three adults and fourteen children were seriously wounded.
Appellants in this case are most of those wounded and the survivors of most of those killed, as well as the guardians and next friends of those wounded minors who may not sue in their own capacity. Appellants alleged their complaint that appellees are responsible for the deaths and injuries. According to the complaint’s allegations, the PLO not only recruited and trained the thirteen terrorists but also planned, financed, supplied, and “claimed responsibility” for the operation. Libya, plaintiffs alleged, trained the PLO instructors who trained the thirteen terrorists, planned, supplied, financed, and “claimed responsibility” for the operation, and gave an official “hero’s welcome” to the ship that carried the terrorists to Israel. As for the PIO and *800the NAAA, the complaint contains only the general allegations that the PIO is an agent and instrumentality of the PLO and that both the PIO and the NAAA helped plan, finance, outfit, and direct the terrorist operation.4
Though the complaint sought recovery under five theories of liability, only two need be considered to decide this appeal. Count II charges defendants with tortious actions in violation of the law of nations. Count III charges defendants with tortious actions in violation of various treaties of the United States.5 The district court granted the NAAA’s motion to dismiss for lack of jurisdiction. The portion of the district court’s inquiry that is relevant here is whether the allegations of Counts II and III sufficed to support jurisdiction under sections 1331 or 1350.
Section 1331 provides: “The district courts shall have original jurisdiction of all civil actions arising under the Constitution, laws, or treaties of the United States.” Section 1350 provides: “The district courts shall have original jurisdiction of any civil action by an alien for a tort only, committed in violation of the law of nations or a treaty of the United States.” With respect to Count Ill’s allegation of treaty violations, the district court found jurisdiction lacking on the ground that none of the treaties alleged to be violated either expressly or impliedly gave rise to a private right of action. 517 F.Supp. at 545-48. With respect to Count II’s allegation that appellees violated the law of nations, the district court held that neither section 1331 nor section 1350 provided jurisdiction. Section 1331 jurisdiction is lacking, the court held, because federal common law, which incorporates the law of nations, cannot be constituted to grant a cause of action without “judicial interference with foreign and international relations.” 517 F.Supp. at 548. Section 1350 jurisdiction is lacking, the district court held, for the same reason: International human rights law grants no private right of action, and section 1350, like section 1331, must be interpreted narrowly to require such a right in suits for violation of international law. 517 F.Supp. at 549-50.
In this appeal, appellants agree with the district court that, for purposes of the issues raised in this case, the jurisdictional requirements of sections 1331 and 1350 are the same. See Brief for Appellants at 35-36; 517 F.Supp. at 549 n. 2 (“[P]laintiffs themselves recognize that the jurisdictional bases of § 1331 and § 1350 are identical as to the role of the law of nations.”). Contrary to the holding of the district court, however, they contend that at least some of the treaties they cite in their complaint impliedly provide private rights of action for the claims in Count III and that federal common law provides private rights of action for the claims in Count II. Thus, appellants argue, section 1350 gives jurisdiction over the claims of the alien plaintiffs and section 1331 gives jurisdiction over the claims of all the plaintiffs, including those who are United States citizens.6
*801For the reasons given below, appellants’ contentions must be rejected. I first consider separation of powers principles that counsel courts, in a case like this, not to infer any cause of action not expressly granted. I then show that the treaties on which appellants rely create no private causes of action. Turning next to appellants’ claim under general principles of international law, I conclude that federal common law does not automatically accord appellants a cause of action and that appellants have not been granted a cause of action by federal statute or by international law itself. Finally, in order to clarify what I believe we should and should not have decided, I discuss the recent decision of the Second Circuit in Filartiga v. Pena-Irala, 630 F.2d 876 (2d Cir.1980), a case having some similarities to this one.
II.
The question in this case is whether appellants have a cause of action in courts of the United States for injuries they suffered in Israel. Judge Edwards contends, and the Second Circuit in Filartiga assumed, that Congress’ grant of jurisdiction also created a cause of action. That seems to me fundamentally wrong and certain to produce pernicious results. For reasons I will develop, it is essential that there be an explicit grant of a cause of action before a private plaintiff be allowed to enforce principles of international law in a federal tribunal. It will be seen below, however, that no body of law expressly grants appellants a cause of action; the relevant inquiry, therefore, is whether a cause of action is to be inferred. That inquiry is guided by general principles that apply whenever a court of the United States is asked to act in a field in which its judgment would.necessarily affect the foreign policy interests of the nation.
The Supreme Court explained in Davis v. Passman, 442 U.S. 228, 99 S.Ct. 2264, 60 L.Ed.2d 846 (1979), that to ask whether a particular plaintiff has a cause of action is to ask whether he “is a member of the class of litigants that may, as a matter of law, appropriately invoke the power of the court.” Id. at 240 n. 18, 99 S.Ct. at 2274 n. 18. The Court said that the “question of who may enforce a statutory right is fundamentally different from the question of who may enforce a right that is protected by the Constitution.” Id. at 241, 99 S.Ct. at 2275 (emphasis in original). In addressing the question, as the Davis opinion itself makes clear, the focus may be at least as much on the character of the issues presented for decision as on the character of the class of litigants seeking an adjudication; and the result of the inquiry might well be that certain claims cannot be litigated at all in certain forums.
This case presents a question not covered by the analyses described by the Davis Court for statutory and constitutional causes of action. An analysis of the appropriateness of providing appellants with a cause of action must take into account the concerns that are inherent in and peculiar to the field of international relations. My assessment of those concerns leads me to a conclusion different from that reached in Davis, for here there appear to be “special factors counselling hesitation in the absence of affirmative action by Congress.” Bivens v. Six Unknown Named Agents of Federal Bureau of Narcotics, 403 U.S. 388, 396, 91 S.Ct. 1999, 2004, 29 L.Ed.2d 619 (1971). The factors counselling hesitation are constitutional; they derive from principles of separation of powers.
The crucial element of the doctrine of separation of powers in this case is the principle that “[t]he conduct of the foreign relations of our Government is committed by the Constitution to the Executive and Legislative — ‘the political’ — Departments.” Oetjen v. Central Leather Co., 246 U.S. 297, 302, 38 S.Ct. 309, 311, 62 L.Ed. 726 (1918). That principle has been translated into a limitation on judicial power in the international law area principally through the act of state and political question doctrines. Whether or not this case falls within one of these categories, the concerns that underlie *802them are present and demand recognition here.
“The act of state doctrine in its traditional formulation precludes the courts from inquiring into the validity of the public acts a recognized foreign sovereign power committed within its own territory.” Banco Nacional de Cuba v. Sabbatino, 376 U.S. 398, 401, 84 S.Ct. 923, 926, 11 L.Ed.2d 804 (1964). Originally, the doctrine rested primarily on notions of sovereignty and comity. See Underhill v. Hernandez, 168 U.S. 250, 252,18 S.Ct. 83, 84, 42 L.Ed. 456 (1897). In more recent formulations, there has been “a shift in focus from the notions of sovereignty and the dignity of independent nations ... to concerns for preserving the ‘basic relationships between branches of government in a system of separation of powers,’ and not hindering the executive’s conduct of foreign policy by judicial review or oversight of foreign acts.” Mannington Mills, Inc. v. Congoleum Corp., 595 F.2d 1287, 1292 (3d Cir.1979) (quoting Sabbatino, 376 U.S. at 423, 84 S.Ct. at 937).
The Sabbatino Court explained that, although the Constitution does not compel the act of state doctrine, the doctrine has “ ‘constitutional’ underpinnings. It arises out of the basic relationships between branches of government in a system of separation of powers. It concerns the competency of dissimilar institutions to make and implement particular kinds of decisions in the area of international relations.” 376 U.S. at 423, 84 S.Ct. at 937. The Court emphasized the separation of powers basis for the doctrine when it observed that the doctrine’s “continuing vitality depends on its capacity to reflect the proper distribution of functions between the judicial and political branches of the Government on matters bearing upon foreign affairs.” Id. at 427-28, 84 S.Ct. at 939-40. In its principal post-Sabbatino act of state case, the Supreme Court again stressed the centrality of separation of powers concerns: “The major underpinning of the act of state doctrine is the policy of foreclosing court adjudications involving the legality of acts of foreign states on their own soil that might embarrass the Executive Branch of our Government in the conduct of our foreign relations.” Alfred Dunhill of London, Inc. v. Cuba, 425 U.S. 682, 697, 96 S.Ct. 1854, 1863, 48 L.Ed.2d 301 (1976).7 The courts of appeals have likewise emphasized the decisive role played, in applying the doctrine, by the two relevant aspects of separation of powers: the potential for interference with the political branches’ functions and the *803fitness of an issue for judicial resolution. See, e.g., International Association of Machinists & Aerospace Workers v. OPEC, 649 F.2d 1354, 1358-61 (9th Cir.1981), cert, denied, 454 U.S. 1163, 102 S.Ct. 1036, 71 L.Ed.2d 319 (1982); Mannington Mills, Inc. v. Congoleum Corp., 595 F.2d at 1292-93; Hunt v. Mobil Oil Corp., 550 F.2d 68, 77-79 (2d Cir.), cert, denied, 434 U.S. 984, 98 S.Ct. 608, 54 L.Ed.2d 477 (1977); Timberlane Lumber Co. v. Bank of America, N.T. & S.A., 549 F.2d 597, 605-08 (9th Cir.1976).
The same separation of powers principles are reflected in the political question doctrine. The Supreme Court gave that doctrine its modern formulation in Baker v. Carr, 369 U.S. 186, 217, 82 S.Ct. 691, 710, 7 L.Ed.2d 663 (1962):
Prominent on the surface of any case held to involve a political question is found a textually demonstrable constitutional commitment of the issue to a coordinate political department; or a lack of judicially discoverable and manageable standards for resolving it; or the impossibility of deciding without an initial policy determination of a kind clearly for nonjudicial discretion; or the impossibility of a court’s undertaking independent resolution without expressing lack of the respect due coordinate branches of government; or an unusual need for unquestioning adherence to a political decision already made; or the potentiality of enu barrassment from multifarious pronouncements by various departments on one question.
Questions touching on the foreign relations of the United States make up what is likely the largest class of questions to which the political question doctrine has been applied. See id. at 211-14, 82 S.Ct. at 706-08. If it were necessary, I might well hold that the political question doctrine bars this lawsuit, since it is arguable, as much of the remainder of this opinion will show, that this case fits several of the categories listed in Baker v. Carr. Such a determination is not necessary, however, because many of the same considerations that govern application of the political question doctrine also govern the question of the appropriateness of providing appellants with a cause of action.8
Neither is there a need to consider whether the act of state doctrine applies to bar this ease from going forward. Although the act of state doctrine might well apply to Libya’s alleged role in the 1978 bus attack, it would seem not to apply, in its current formulation, to the alleged acts of the PLO, the PIO, and the NAAA, none of which would seem to be a state under internation*804al law. See Kassim, The Palestine Liberation Organization’s Claim to Status: A Juridical Analysis Under International Law, 9 Den.J.Int’l L. & Pol’y 1, 2-3 (1980).9 Nevertheless, to the extent the act of state doctrine is based predominantly, if not exclusively, on separation of powers concerns (as it has increasingly come to be), its own rationale might justify extending it to cover the acts of such entities as the PLO where adjudication of the validity of those acts would present problems of judicial competence and of judicial interference with foreign relations. Such an extension would bring the act of state doctrine closer, especially in its flexibility, to the political question doctrine. Cf. First National City Bank v. Banco Nacional de Cuba, 406 U.S. 759, 785-93, 92 S.Ct. 1808, 1822-25, 32 L.Ed.2d 466 (1972) (Brennan, J., dissenting) (act of state doctrine as elaborated in Sabbatino equivalent to political question doctrine). Whether the two doctrines should be merged and how, if merged, they would apply to the allegations of appellants’ complaint are issues beyond the scope of our inquiry. Instead, those doctrines are drawn upon for what they say about the separation of powers principles that must inform a determination of the appropriateness of appellants’ litigating their claims in federal court.
Those principles counsel against recognition of a cause of action for appellants if adjudication of their claims would raise substantial problems of judicial interference with nonjudicial functions, such as the conduct of foreign relations. Appellants’ complaint requires a determination, either at the jurisdictional stage or at the stage of defining and applying a rule of decision, whether international law has been violated.10 I am therefore guided in large measure by the Supreme Court’s observation in Sabbatino that
the greater the degree of codification or consensus concerning a particular area of international law, the more appropriate it is for the judiciary to render decisions regarding it, since the courts can then focus on the application of an agreed principle to circumstances of fact rather than on the sensitive task of establishing a principle not inconsistent with the national interest or with international justice. It is also evident that some aspects of international law touch more sharply on national nerves than do others; the less important the implications of an issue are for our foreign relations, the weaker the justification for exclusivity in the political branches.
376 U.S. at 428, 84 S.Ct. at 940. There is no need to decide here under what circumstances considerations such as these might deprive an individual of a cause of action clearly given by a state, by Congress, by a treaty, or by international law.11 In the *805absence of such a cause of action, they lead to the conclusion that adjudication of appellants’ claims would present grave separation of powers problems. It is therefore inappropriate to recognize a cause of action allowing appellants to bring this suit.12
Most important, perhaps, even appellants concede that the incidents described in appellants’ complaint are properly understood only when viewed in the context of the continuing conflicts in the Middle East. Indeed, appellants point out that “[o]ne of the primary purposes of the March 11 attack was to sabotage the foreign relations of the United States and its negotiations by destroying the positive efforts made in the Camp David accords.’’ Brief for Appellants at 15. The Camp David accords, of course, were but one of the major efforts made by the United States to resolve the myriad problems behind the series of military and political conflicts that have kept the Middle East at or near the center of American foreign relations for at least the last fifteen years. A judicial pronouncement on the PLO’s responsibility for the 1978 bus attack would likely interfere with American diplomacy, which is as actively concerned with the Middle East today as it has ever been.13
The potential for interference with foreign relations is not diminished by the PLO’s apparent lack of international law status as a state. Nor does it matter whether the Executive Branch officially recognizes, or has direct dealings with, the PLO. The fact remains that the PLO bears significantly upon the foreign relations of the United States. If any indication of that role is needed, it is provided by the official “observer” status that the PLO has been accorded at the United Nations, G.A.Res. 3237, 29 U.N.GAOR Supp. (No. 31) at 4, U.N.Doc. A/9631 (1974), as well as by the diplomatic relations that the PLO is reported to have with some one hundred countries around the world, see Kassim, supra, 9 Den. J.Int’l L. & Pol’y at 19; Friedlander, The PLO and the Rule of Law: A Reply to Dr. Anis Kassim, 10 Den.J.Int’l L. & Pol’y 221, 232 (1981).
The nature of appellants’ international law claims provides a further reason for reluctance to recognize a cause of action for appellants. Adjudication of those claims would require the analysis of international legal principles that are anything but clearly defined and that are the subject of controversy touching “sharply on national nerves.” Banco Nacional de Cuba v. Sabba-tino, 376 U.S. at 428, 84 S.Ct. at 940. The Sabbatino Court warned against adjudication of such international law issues. Id. Because I believe that judicial pronouncements on the merits of this case should be avoided, I mention only briefly some of the difficulties raised by some of the claims in appellants’ complaint.
Appellants would have to argue, if their case were adjudicated, for an exception to the general rule that international law im*806poses duties only on states and on their agents or officials. See L. Henkin, R. Pugh, O. Schachter & H. Smit, International Law, 246-47 (1980); Restatement of the Foreign Relations Law of the United States (Revised) § 101, at 21 (Tent.Draft No. 1, 1980) (“ ‘International law’ ... deals with the conduct of states and of international organizations, and with their relations inter se, as well as some of their relations with persons, whether natural or juridical.”); id. §§ 701-722, at 137-257 (Tent.Draft No. 3, 1982) (stating international law protections of persons solely in terms of state obligations). If, as would appear, the PLO is not a state, a finding that it should nonetheless be held to the duties imposed by the customary rules of international law governing the conduct of belligerent nations, e.g., Geneva Convention for the Protection of Civilian Persons in Time of War, Aug. 12, 1949, art. 3, 6 U.S.T. 3516, T.I.A.S. No. 3365, 75 U.N.T.S. 287; Protocols I and II of the Geneva Convention of 12 August 1949, June 7, 1977, Diplomatic Conference on Reaffirmation and Development of International Humanitarian Law Applicable to Armed Conflicts, reprinted in 16 I.L.M. 1391, 1443 (1977), would not entail merely the application of an agreed principle to new facts. Rather, a finding that because of its governmental aspirations and because of the role it has played in the Middle East conflicts the PLO should be subject to such rules would establish a new principle of international law. Likewise, to interpret various human rights documents as imposing legal duties on nonstates like the PLO would require both entering a new and unsettled area of international law and finding there ah exception to international law’s general rule.14
Another difficulty presented by appellants’ complaint is that some of the documents on which they rely as statements of customary principles of international law expressly make the purposes of an action relevant to its unlawfulness. For example, appellants allege that appellees violated the proscription, in article 51 of the Protocol I of the Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949, on “[a]cts or threats of violence the primary purpose of which is to spread terror among the civilian population.” They also allege that appellees violated the proscription on genocide, defined in the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, Dec. 9, 1948, 78 U.N.T.S. 277, to mean acts calculated to bring about the physical destruction, in whole or in part, of a national, ethnic, racial, or religious group. Adjudication of these claims would require inquiry into the PLO’s intention in planning the 1978 bus attack (assuming the PLO’s involvement) and into the organizational goals of the PLO. The dangers of such inquiry into the intentions of the PLO are similar to those attending an inquiry into the intentions of a state. See Hunt v. Mobil Oil Corp., 550 F.2d at 77 (act of state doctrine bars inquiry into Libya’s motivation for actions: “Inquiry could only be fissiparous, hindering or embarrassing the conduct of foreign relations which is the very reason underlying the policy of judicial abstention.... ”).
In addition, appellants’ principal claim, that appellees violated customary principles of international law against terrorism, concerns an area of international law in which there is little or no consensus and in which the disagreements concern politically sensitive issues that are especially prominent in the foreign relations problems of the Middle East. Some aspects of terrorism have been the subject of several international conventions, such as those concerning hijacking, e.g., Convention for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts Against the Safety of Civil Aviation (Montreal Convention), Sept. 23, 1971, 24 U.S.T. 564, T.I.A.S. No. 7570; Con*807vention on the Suppression of Unlawful Seizure of Aircraft (Hague Convention), Dec. 16, 1970, 22 U.S.T. 1641, T.I.A.S. No. 7192, 860 U.N.T.S. 105; Convention on Offenses and Certain Other Acts Committed on Board Aircraft (Tokyo Convention), Sept. 14, 1963, 20 U.S.T. 2941, T.I.A.S. No. 6768, 704 U.N.T.S. 219, and attacks on internationally protected persons such as diplomats, e.g., Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of Crimes Against Internationally Protected Persons, Including Diplomatic Agents (New York Convention), Dec. 14, 1973, 28 U.S.T. 1975, T.I.A.S. No. 8532. But no consensus has developed on how properly to define “terrorism” generally. G. von Glahn, Law Among Nations 303 (4th ed. 1981). As a consequence, “ ‘[international law and the rules of warfare as they now exist are inadequate to cope with this new mode of conflict.’ ” Transnational Terrorism: Conventions and Commentary xv (R. Lillich ed. 1982) (quoting Jenkins, International Terrorism: A New Mode of Conflict 16 (California Seminar on Arms Control and Foreign Policy, Research Paper No. 48, 1975)). “The dismal truth is that the international community has dealt with terrorism ambivalently and ineffectually.” Shestack, Of Private and State Terror-Some Preliminary Observations, 13 Rutgers L.J. 453, 463 (1982).
Customary international law may well forbid states from aiding terrorist attacks on neighboring states. See Lillich & Pax-man, State Responsibility for Injuries to Aliens Occasioned by Terrorist Activities, 26 Am.U.L.Rev. 217, 251-76 (1977). Although that principle might apply in a case like' this to a state such as Libya (which is not a proper party here, see supra note 13), it does not, at least on its face, apply to a nonstate like the PLO. More important, there is less than universal consensus about whether PLO-sponsored attacks on Israel are lawful. One important sign of the lack of consensus about terrorism generally, and about PLO activities in particular, is that accusations of terrorism are often met not by denial of the fact of responsibility but by a justification for the challenged actions. See Blum & Steinhardt, supra note 10, 22 Harv.Int’l L.J. at 92. Indeed, one of the key documents relied on as evidence of an international law proscription on terrorism, the Declaration on Principles of International Law Concerning Friendly Relations and Co-operation Among States in Accordance with the Charter of the United Nations, G.A.Res. 2625, 25 U.N.GAOR Supp. (No. 28) at 121, U.N.Doc. A/8028 (1970), was said by at least one state at the time of its promulgation not to be applicable to Palestinian terrorist raids into Israel supported by Arab states. 24 U.N.GAOR 297, U.N.Doc. A/C.6/SR. 1160 (1969) (remarks of Mr. El Attrash of Syria), discussed in Lillich & Paxman, supra, 26 Am.U.L.Rev. at 272 (qualification is significant). Attempts to secure greater consensus on terrorism have foundered on just such issues as the lawfulness of violent action by groups like the PLO fighting what some states view as “wars of national liberation.”15 See Franck & Lockwood, Preliminary Thoughts Towards an International Convention on Terrorism, 68 Am.J.Int’l L. 69 (1974); Paust, “Nonprotected" Persons or Things, in Legal Aspects of International Terrorism 341, 355-56 (A. Evans & J. Murphy eds. 1978); cf. Verwey, The International Hostages Convention and National Liberation Movements, 75 Am.J.Int’l L. 69 (1981) (obligations of national liberation movements were major problem in drafting and promulgating International Convention against the Taking of Hostages).
There is, of course, no occasion here to state what international law should be.. *808Nor is there a need to consider whether an extended and discriminating analysis might plausibly maintain that customary international law prohibits the actions alleged in the complaint. It is enough to observe that there is sufficient controversy of a politically sensitive nature about the content of any relevant international legal principles that litigation of appellants’ claims would present, in acute form, many of the problems that the separation, of powers principles inherent in the act of state and political question doctrines caution courts to avoid. The lack of clarity in, and absence of consensus about, the legal principles invoked by appellants, together with the political context of the challenged actions and the PLO’s impingement upon American foreign relations, lead to the conclusion that appellants’ case is not the sort that is appropriate for federal-court adjudication, at least not without an express grant of a cause of action.
I turn next to examine treaties, common law, congressional enactments, and customary international law to determine whether any of these sources of law provides a cause of action for appellants. In light of what has been said, it would require a very clear showing that these other bodies of law grant appellants a cause of action before my concerns about the principles of separation of powers could be overcome. But, as will be seen, there is no clear grant of a cause of action to be found. In truth, the law concerning treaties and customary international law of its own force appears actually to deny appellants any cause of action.
III.
Treaties of the United States, though the law of the land, do not generally create rights that are privately enforceable in courts. Foster v. Neilson, 27 U.S. (2 Pet.) 253, 314, 7 L.Ed. 415 (1829), overruled on other grounds, United States v. Percheman, 32 U.S. (7 Pet.) 51, 8 L.Ed. 604 (1883); Canadian Transport Co. v. United States, 663 F.2d 1081, 1092 (D.C.Cir.1980); Dreyfus v. Von Finck, 534 F.2d 24, 29-30 (2d Cir.), cert, denied, 429 U.S. 835, 97 S.Ct. 102, 50 L.Ed.2d 101 (1976). Absent authorizing legislation, an individual has access to courts for enforcement of a treaty’s provisions only when the treaty is self-executing, that is, when it expressly or impliedly provides a private right of action. Head Money Cases, 112 U.S. 580, 598-99, 5 S.Ct. 247, 253-54, 28 L.Ed. 798 (1884); Z & F Assets Realization Corp. v. Hull, 114 F.2d 464, 470-71 (D.C.Cir. 1940), aff’d on other grounds, 311 U.S. 470, 489, 61 S.Ct. 351, 355, 85 L.Ed. 288 (1941); Mannington Mills, Inc. v. Congoleum Corp., 595 F.2d at 1298. When no right is explicitly stated, courts look to the treaty as a whole to determine whether it evidences an intent to provide a private right of action. See Diggs v. Richardson, 555 F.2d 848, 851 (D.C.Cir.1976).
In Count III of the complaint, appellants alleged that defendants violated the following “treaties of the United States”:
—Geneva Convention Relative to the Pro-, tection of Civilian Persons in Time of War, Aug. 12, 1949, 6 U.S.T. 3516, T.I.A.S. No. 3365, 75 U.N.T.S. 287;
—Articles 1 and 2 of the Charter of the United Nations, June 26, 1945, 59 Stat. 1031, T.S. No. 993;
—Convention With Respect to the Laws and Customs of War on Land, July 29, 1899, 32 Stat. 1803, T.S. No. 403; Convention Respecting the Laws and Customs of War on Land, Oct. 18,1907, 36 Stat. 2277, T.S. No. 539 (Hague Conventions);
—Geneva Convention Relative to the Treatment of Prisoners of War, Aug. 12, 1949, 6 U.S.T. 3316, T.I.A.S. 3364, 75 U.N.T.S. 135;
—Convention to Prevent and Punish the Acts of Terrorism Taking the Forms of Crime Against Persons and Related Extortion That Are of International Significance, Feb. 2, 1971, 27 U.S.T. 3949, T.I.A.S. No. 8413 (Organization of American States (OAS) Convention);
—Protocols I and II to the Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949, June 7, 1977, Diplomatic Conference on Reaffirmation and Development of International Humanitarian Law Applicable in Armed *809Conflict, reprinted in 16 I.L.M. 1391, 1442 (1977);
—Declaration on Principles of International Law Concerning Friendly Relations and Co-operation Among States in Accordance with the Charter of the United Nations, G.A.Res. 2625, 25 U.N.GAOR Supp. (No. 28) at 121, U.N.Doc. A/8028 (1970);
—Universal Declaration of Human Rights, G.A.Res. 217, U.N. 3 GAOR, U.N. Doc. 1/777 (1948);
—International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, Annex to G.A.Res. 2200, 21 U.N.GAOR Supp. (No. 16) at 52, U.N. Doc. A/6316 (1966);
—Basic Principles for the Protection of Civilian Populations in Armed Conflicts, G.A.Res. 2675, 25 U.N.GAOR Supp. (No. 28) at 76, U.N.Doc A/8028 (1970);
—Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime and Genocide, Dec. 9, 1948, 78 U.N.T.S. 277;
—Declaration of the Rights of the Child, G.A.Res. 1386, 14 U.N.GAOR Supp. (No. 16) at 19, U.N. Doc. A/4354 (1959); and
—American Convention on Human Rights, Nov. 22, 1969, O.A.S. Official Records OEA/Ser. K/XVI/1.1, Doc. 65, Rev. 1, Corr. 1, reprinted in 9 I.L.M. 101 (1970), 65 Am.J.Int’1 L. 679 (1971).
Only the first five of these alleged treaties are treaties currently binding on the United States. See Treaties Affairs Staff, Office of the Legal Adviser, Department of State, Treaties in Force (1983). Even if the remaining eight are relevant to Count II of the complaint as evidence of principles of international law, they are not treaties of the United States. Since Count III (tor-tious actions in violation of the treaties of the United States) purports to state a cause of action distinct from that stated in Count II (tortious actions in violation of the law of nations), the last eight of the thirteen alleged treaties of the United States can provide no basis for jurisdiction over the claims in Count III under the treaty components of sections 1331 and 1350.
Of the five treaties in force, none provides a private right of action. Three of them — the Geneva Convention for the Protection of Civilian Persons in Time of War, the Geneva Convention Relative to the Treatment of Prisoners of War, and the OAS Convention to Prevent and Punish Acts of Terrorism — expressly call for implementing legislation. A treaty that provides that party states will take measures through their own laws to enforce its proscriptions evidences its intent not to be self-executing. See Foster v. Neilson, 27 U.S. (2 Pet.) at 311-14, 7 L.Ed. 415; United States v. Postal, 589 F.2d 862, 876-77 (5th Cir.), cert, denied, 444 U.S. 832,100 S.Ct. 61, 62 L.Ed.2d 40 (1979). These three treaties are therefore not self-executing. Indeed, with respect to the first Geneva Convention, one court has already so held. Huynh Thi Anh v. Levi, 586 F.2d 625, 629 (6th Cir.1978).
Articles 1 and 2 of the United Nations Charter are likewise not self-executing. They do not speak in terms of individual rights but impose obligations on nations and on the United Nations itself. They address states, calling on them to fulfill in good faith their obligations as members of the United Nations. Sanctions under article 41, the penultimate bulwark of the Charter, are •to be taken by states against other states. Articles 1 and 2, moreover, contain general “purposes and principles,” some of which state mere aspirations and none of which can sensibly be thought to have been intended to be judicially enforceable at the behest of individuals.16 These considerations compel the conclusion that articles 1 and 2 of the U.N. Charter were not intended to give individuals the right to enforce them in municipal courts, particularly since appellants have provided no evidence of a contrary intent. See Pauling v. McElroy, 164 F.Supp. 390, 393 (D.D.C.1958), aff’d, 278 F.2d 252 (D.C.Cir.), cert, denied, 364 U.S. *810835, 81 S.Ct. 61, 5 L.Ed.2d 60 (1960); Dreyfus v. Von Finck, 534 F.2d at 30; People of Saipan v. Department of Interior, 502 F.2d 90, 100-03 (9th Cir.1974) (Trask, J., concurring), cert, denied, 420 U.S. 1003, 95 S.Ct. 1445, 43 L.Ed.2d 761 (1975); Sel Fujii v. State, 38 Cal.2d 718, 242 P.2d 617 (1952).
The Hague Conventions similarly cannot be construed to afford individuals the right to judicial enforcement. Although the Conventions contain no language calling for implementing legislation, they have never been regarded as law private parties could enforce. If they were so regarded, the code of behavior the Conventions set out could create perhaps hundreds of thousands or millions of lawsuits by the many individuals, including prisoners of war, who might think their rights under the Hague Conventions violated in the course of any large-scale war. Those lawsuits might be far beyond the capacity of any legal system to resolve at all, much less accurately and fairly; and the courts of a victorious nation might well be less hospitable to such suits against that nation or the members of its armed forces than the courts of a defeated nation might, perforce, have to be. Finally, the prospect of innumerable private suits at the end of a war might be an obstacle to the negotiation of peace and the resumption of normal relations between nations. It is for these reasons that the Conventions are best regarded as addressed to the interests and honor of belligerent nations, not as raising the threat of judicially awarded damages at war’s end. The Hague Conventions are not self-executing. The Second Circuit has drawn the same conclusion,. Dreyfus v. Von Finck, 534 F.2d at 30, and appellants have pointed to no case holding otherwise in the more than three-quarters of a century since the Conventions were adopted.
None of the five treaties relied on by appellants thus even impliedly grants individuals the right to seek damages for violation of their provisions. Appellants have, therefore, failed to state a cause of action for violation of any treaties of the United States. Count III of their complaint, consequently, does not come within the arising-under jurisdiction of section 1331. Nor does it come within section 1350, because this provision, like section 1331, is merely a jurisdiction-granting statute and not the implementing legislation required by non-self-executing treaties to enable individuals to enforce their provisions. See Dreyfus v. Von Finck, 534 F.2d at 28 (affirming dismissal for lack of cause of action under treaties in suit by alien where jurisdiction expressly based on sections 1331 and 1350).17
IV.
Appellants’ argument that they may recover damages for violations of international law is simple. International law, they point out, is part of the common law of the United States. This proposition is unexceptionable. See, e.g., The Paquete Habana, 175 U.S. 677, 20 S.Ct. 290, 44 L.Ed. 320 (1900); United States v. Smith, 18 U.S. (5 Wheat.) 153, 5 L.Ed. 57 (1820). But appellants then contend that federal common law automatically provides a cause of action for international law violations, as it would for violations of other federal common law rights. I cannot accept this conclusion.18
*811Appellants’ argument reflects a confusion of two distinct meanings of “common law”. That term has long referred to the body of court-made law whose origins can be traced to the medieval English legal system. It has also come to refer generally to law (mostly court-made) not based on a statute or constitution. “Federal common law”, in particular, has been used “to refer generally to federal rules of decision where the authority for a federal rule is not explicitly or clearly found in federal statutory or constitutional command.” P. Bator, P. Mishkin, D. Shapiro & H. Wechsler, Hart and Wechsler’s The Federal Courts and the Federal System 770 (2d ed. 1973) (“Hart & Wechsler"). To say that international law is part of federal common law is to say only that it is nonstatutory and nonconstitutional law to be applied, in appropriate cases, in municipal courts. It is not to say that, like the common law of contract and tort, for example, by itself it affords individuals the right to ask for judicial relief.
Thus, the step appellants would have us take — from the phrase “common law” to the implication of a cause of action — is not a simple and automatic one. Neither is it advisable. The considerations of separation of powers rehearsed above provide ample reason for refusing to take a step that would plunge federal courts into the foreign affairs of the United States.
Appellants, seeking to recover for a violation of international law, might look to federal statutes either for a grant of a cause of action or for evidence that a cause of action exists. These notions may be quickly dismissed. The only plausible candidates are the two jurisdictional statutes relied on by appellants, sections 1331 and 1350 of Title 28 of the United States Code. Neither of those statutes either expressly or impliedly grants a cause of action. Both statutes merely define a class of cases federal courts can hear; they do not themselves even by implication authorize individuals to bring such cases. As the Supreme Court has stated, “[t]he Judicial Code, in vesting jurisdiction in the District Courts, does not create causes of action, but only confers jurisdiction to adjudicate those arising from other sources which satisfy its limiting provisions.” Montana-Dakota Utilities Co. v. Northwestern Public Service Co., 341 U.S. 246, 249, 71 S.Ct. 692, 694, 95 L.Ed. 912 (1951). See also Dreyfus v. Von Finck, 534 F.2d at 28 (neither 1331 nor 1350 grants a cause of action).
Although the jurisdictional statutes relied on by appellants cannot be read to provide a cause of action, those statutes might conceivably provide evidence of Congress’ recognition (as opposed to creation) of one. Appellants do not suggest that section 1331 is evidence of any such recognition, as nothing in its language or history could support such a reading. Rather, appellants focus on section 1350, which is concerned expressly and only with international law (treaties and customary international law) and therefore might suggest that Congress understood, when providing jurisdiction thiough section 1350, that some individuals would be able to take advantage of that jurisdiction because they had causes of action for' torts committed in violation of the law of nations.19
The broadest reading of section 1350 as evidence of congressional recognition of such a cause of action is that it merely requires that a plaintiff prove that the actions complained of violated international law. If that jurisdictional prerequisite is met, according to appellants, the plaintiff has a cause of action for tort damages, as he would for any tort. This approach is adopted by the Second Circuit in Filartiga, as well as by Judge Edwards. I believe, nonetheless, that this construction of section 1350 must be rejected for several reasons.
*812First, appellants’ broad reading would have to apply equally to actions brought to recover damages for torts committed in violation of treaties, since treaties stand in exactly the same position in section 1350 as principles of customary international law (the law of nations). Such an application would render meaningless, for alien plaintiffs, the well-established rule that treaties that provide no cause of action cannot be sued on without (express or implied) federal law authorization. See supra p. 784.
Judge Edwards’ approach, as well as the analysis of the Second Circuit in Filartiga, would also make all United States treaties effectively self-executing. As appellants here seek evidence of a cause of action to vindicate an asserted international law right that they do not assert itself affords them a private right of action, their claim is indistinguishable, under the language of section 1350, from a claim brought to vindicate rights set forth in a non-self-executing treaty.
In addition, appellants’ construction of section 1350 is too sweeping. It would authorize tort suits for the vindication of any international legal right. As demonstrated below, that result would be inconsistent with the severe limitations on individually initiated enforcement inherent in international law itself, and would run counter to constitutional limits on the role of federal courts. Those reasons demand rejection of appellants’ construction of section 1350 unless a narrow reading of the provision is incompatible with congressional intent. There is no evidence, however, that Congress intended the result appellants suggest.
What is known of the origins of section 1350 was perhaps best described by Judge Friendly in IIT v. Vencap, Ltd., 519 F.2d 1001,1015 (2d Cir.1975): “This old but little used section is a kind of legal Lohengrin; ... no one seems to know whence it came.” Section 1350 was enacted, in almost its current form, as part of the Judiciary Act of 1789, ch. 20,1 Stat. 73, 77.20 I have discovered no direct evidence of what Congress had in mind when enacting the provision. The debates over the Judiciary Act in the House — the Senate debates were not recorded — nowhere mention the provision, not even, so far as we are aware, indirectly. See 1 Annals of Cong. 782-833 (J. Gales ed. 1789).
Historical research has not as yet disclosed what section 1350 was intended to accomplish. The fact poses a special problem for courts. A statute whose original meaning is hidden from us and yet which, if its words are read incautiously with modern assumptions in mind, is capable of plunging our nation into foreign conflicts, ought to be approached by the judiciary with great circumspection. It will not do simply to assert that the statutory phrase, the “law of nations,” whatever it may have meant in 1789, must be read today as incorporating all the modern rules of international law and giving aliens private causes of action for violations of those rules. It will not do because the result is contrary not only to what we know of the framers’ general purposes in this area but contrary as well to the appropriate, indeed the constitutional, role of courts with respect to foreign affairs.
What little relevant historical background is now available to us indicates that those who drafted the Constitution and the Judiciary Act of 1789 wanted to open federal courts to aliens for the purpose of avoiding, not provoking, conflicts with other nations. The Federalist No. 80 (A. Hamilton). A broad reading of section 1350 runs directly contrary to that desire. It is also relevant to a construction of this provision that until quite recently nobody understood it to empower courts to entertain cases like this *813one or like Filartiga.21 As Justice Frankfurter said in Romero v. International Terminal Operating Co., 358 U.S. 354, 379, 79 S.Ct. 468, 483, 3 L.Ed.2d 368 (1959):
The considerations of history and policy which investigation has illuminated are powerfully reinforced by the deeply felt and traditional reluctance of this Court to expand the jurisdiction of the federal courts through a broad reading of jurisdictional statutes. A reluctance which must be even more forcefully felt when the expansion is proposed, for the first time, eighty-three years after the jurisdiction has been conferred.
In the case of section 1350, the period before the expansion was proposed is more than twice eighty-three years.
Though it is not necessary to the decision of this case, it may be well to suggest what section 1350 may have been enacted to accomplish, if only to meet the charge that my interpretation is not plausible because it would drain the statute of meaning. The phrase “law of nations” has meant various things over time. It is important to remember that in 1789 there was no concept of international human rights; neither was there, under the traditional version of customary international law, any recognition of a right of private parties to recover. See, e.g., Hassan, International Human Rights and the Alien Tort Statute: Past and Future, in Human Rights Symposium: Further Commentary, 5 Hous.J.Int’l L. 131, 139 (1982); Oliver, A Brief Replication: The Big Picture and Mr. Schneebaum’s Reply, in Human Rights Symposium: Further Commentary, 5 Hous.J.Int’1 L. 151, 153 (1982); 1 L. Oppenheim, International Law § 292 (2d ed. 1912), quoted in Hassan, Panacea or Mirage? Domestic Enforcement of International Human Rights Law: Recent Cases, 4 Hous.J.Int’l L. 13, 26-27 (1981). See also Hassan, supra, 4 Hous.J. Int’l L. at 19-20. Clearly, cases like this and Filartiga were beyond the framers’ contemplation. Id. at 24-26. That problem is not avoided by observing that the law of nations evolves. It is one thing for a case like The Paquete Habana to find that a rule has evolved so that the United States may not seize coastal fishing boats of a nation with which we are at war. It is another thing entirely, a difference in degree so enormous as to be a difference in kind, to find that a rule has evolved against torture by government so that our courts must sit in judgment of the conduct of foreign officials in their own countries with respect to their own citizens. The latter assertion raises prospects of judicial interference with foreign affairs that the former does not. A different question might be presented if section 1350 had been adopted by a modern Congress that made clear its desire that federal courts police the behavior of foreign individuals and governments. But section 1350 does not embody a legislative judgment that is either current or clear and the statute must be read with that in mind.
What kinds of alien tort actions, then, might the Congress of 1789 have meant to bring into federal courts? According to Blackstone, a writer certainly familiar to colonial lawyers, “the principal offences against the law of nations, animadverted on as such by the municipal laws of England, [were] of three kinds; 1. Violation of safe-conducts; 2. Infringement of the rights of embassadors; and 3. Piracy.” 4 W. Blackstone, Commentaries 68, 72, quoted in 1 W.W. Crosskey, Politics and Constitution in the History of the United States 459 (1953) (“Crosskey”). One might suppose that these were the kinds of offenses for which Congress wished to provide tort jurisdiction *814for suits by aliens in order to avoid conflicts with other nations.22
The Constitution, of course, gave particular attention to piracy and to the rights of ambassadors. Article I, section 8, links piracy and the law of nations by granting Congress power “to define and punish Pira-cies and Felonies committed on the high Seas, and Offences against the Law of Nations.” And Article III, section 2, gives the Supreme Court original jurisdiction over “all Cases affecting Ambassadors, other Public Ministers and Consuls.” Section 9 of the Judiciary Act of 1789 (now section 1350) gave jurisdiction to district courts, concurrent with that of state courts and circuit courts, over tort suits by aliens for violations of the law of nations. Judiciary Act of 1789, ch. 20, § 9, 1 Stat. 73, 76-77. This may well have envisaged a tort like piracy (a citizen could use diversity jurisdiction).23
The idea that section 9 of the original Judiciary Act, now section 1350, was concerned with the rights of ambassadors (and other foreign representatives) is suggested by another provision of the statutes. Section 13 gave the Supreme Court such original and exclusive jurisdiction over all suits against ambassadors “as a court of law can have or exercise consistently with the law of nations” (emphasis added). Judiciary *815Act of 1789, ch. 20, § 13, 1 Stat. 73, 80-81. That section, however, gave the Court original but not exclusive jurisdiction of “all suits brought by ambassadors, or other public ministers, or in which a consul, or vice consul, shall be a party” (emphasis added). This appears to tie in to the grant of tort jurisdiction for suits by aliens in what is now section 1350. (Section 1350’s use of the broader term “aliens” may merely indicate that the torts of piracy and violations of safe-conduct, which would involve plaintiffs other than ambassadors, were included.)
An intent to protect the rights of ambassadors is also plausible historically. According to Crosskey, the Convention, in assigning to Congress the power to “define and punish ... Offences against the Law of Nations” had in mind, aside from piracy, the rights of ambassadors. Crosskey at 459. He draws this conclusion from the notoriety of a case discussed by both Lord Mansfield, of the Court of King’s Bench, and by Blackstone. An ambassador of the Czar had been arrested by his English creditors, and, was, in the process “somewhat roughed up before the arrest was accomplished.” Id. He demanded of the Queen that his assailants be subjected to “severe ‘corporal Punishment.’ ” Id. at 460. English law at the time, however, did not permit punishment severe enough to satisfy the offended ambassador, who protested to Czar Peter. The Czar demanded that the offenders be put to death. As a result, the law was changed, giving the Chief Justice of Queen’s Bench, among other members of the “executive” branch, the power to try any offenses against ambassadors, and the Czar was placated. Id. at 461-62. This “slightly ridiculous affair,” according to Crosskey, was well-known because of repeated comment upon it. Id. at 462. If this was indeed the incident the Convention considered in allocating to Congress the power to “define and punish ... Offences against the Law of Nations,” it may be that the First Congress, sensitive to the international ramifications of denying ambassadors redress, enacted section 1350 to give ambassadors the option of bringing tort actions in federal courts as well as in state courts.
These thoughts as to the possible original intention underlying section 1350 are admittedly speculative, and those who enacted the law may well have had additional torts in mind. I offer these possibilities merely to show that the statute could have served a useful purpose even if the larger tasks assigned it by Filartiga and Judge Edwards are rejected. Moreover, if the offenses against the law of nations listed by Blackstone constituted the torts the framers of section 1350 had in mind, then the creation of federal jurisdiction for the redress of aliens’ grievances would tend to ease rather than inflame relations with foreign nations. That result comports with Hamilton’s expressed desire. Whether evidence so slim as to the intended office of the statute provides materials from which courts today may properly make substantive law is a jurisprudential issue with which, given the grounds upon which I would place our decision, I need not grapple today. But when courts go beyond the area in which there is any historical evidence, when they create the substantive rules for topics such as that taken up in Filartiga or in Judge Edwards’ formulations, then law is made with no legislative guidance whatever. When that is so, it will not do to insist that the judge’s duty is to construe the statute in order not to flout the will of Congress. On these topics, we have, at the moment, no evidence what the intention of Congress was. When courts lack such evidence, to “construe” is to legislate, to act in the dark, and hence to do many things that, it is virtually certain, Congress did not intend. Any correspondence between the will of Congress in 1789 and the decisions of the courts in 1984 can then be only accidental. Section 1350 can probably be adequately understood only in the context of the premises and assumptions of a legal culture that no longer exists. Perhaps historical research that is beyond the capacities of appellate judges will lift the darkness that now envelops this topic, but that has not yet occurred, and we should not attempt to anticipate what may or may not become visible.
*816Congress’ understanding of the “law of nations” in 1789 is relevant to a consideration of whether Congress, by enacting section 1350, intended to open the federal courts to the vindication of the violation of any right recognized by international law. Examining the meaning of the “law of nations” at the time does not, contrary to my colleague’s charges, “avoid the dictates of The Paquete Habana” and “limit the ‘law of nations’ to its 18th Century definition.” Edwards’ op. at 29. The substantive rules of international law may evolve and perhaps courts may apply those new rules, but that does not solve the problem of the existence of a cause of action. If plaintiffs were explicitly provided with a cause of action by the law of nations, as it is currently understood, this court might — subject to considerations of justiciability — be required by section 1350 to entertain their claims. But, as discussed below, see infra pp. 816-819, international law today does not provide plaintiffs with a cause of action.24
Recognition of suits presenting serious problems of interference with foreign relations would conflict with the primary purpose of the adoption of the law of nations by federal law — to promote America’s peaceful relations with other nations. See The Federalist No. 80 (A. Hamilton); The Federalist No. 83 (A. Hamilton). Judge Edwards cites this rationale as a reason for reading section 1350 as creating a cause of action for private parties. The inference from that rationale seems to me, however, to run in precisely the opposite direction. Adjudication of international disputes of this sort in federal courts, disputes over international violence occurring abroad, would be far more likely to exacerbate tensions with other nations than to promote peaceful relations.
Under the possible meaning I have . sketched, section 1350’s current function would be quite modest, unless a modern statute, treaty, or executive agreement provided a .private cause of action for violations of new international norms which do not themselves contemplate private enforcement. Then, at least, we would have a current political judgment about the role appropriate for courts in an area of considerable international sensitivity.
V.
Whether current international law itself gives appellants a cause of action requires more extended discussion. Appellants’ claim, in Count II of their complaint, is that appellees have committed the “torts of terror, torture, hostage-taking and genocide,” Brief for Appellants at 29, in violation of various customary principles of international law. Such principles become law by virtue of the “general assent of civilized nations.” The Paquete Habana, 175 U.S. at 694, 20 S.Ct. at 297. Unlike treaties and statutes, such law is not authoritatively pronounced by promulgation in a written document but must be found in the “customs and usages of civilized nations” as evidenced by the works of “jurists and commentators.” Id. at 700, 20 S.Ct. at 299; see Statute of the International Court of Justice, art. 38, 59 Stat. 1055 (1945), T.S. No. 993; Restatement of the Foreign Relations Law of the United States (Revised) §§ 102-103, at 24-38 (Tent. Draft No. 1, 1980). Consequently, any cause of action that might exist, like the precise meaning of the customary principles themselves, must be inferred from the sources that are evidence of and attempt to formulate the legal rules. The district court found, and appellants have not argued to the contrary, that none of the documents appellants have put forth as stating the international legal principles on which they rely expressly state that individuals can bring suit in municipal courts to enforce the specified rights. See 517 F.Supp. at 548-49. Moreover, we have been pointed to nothing in their language, *817structure, or circumstances of promulgation that suggests that any of those documents should be read as implicitly declaring that an individual should be able to sue in municipal courts to enforce the specified rights. In any event, there is no need to review those documents and their origins in further detail, for, as a general rule, international law does not provide a private right of action, and an exception to that rule would have to be demonstrated by clear evidence that civilized nations had generally given their assent to the exception. Hassan, supra, 4 Hous.J.Int’l L. at 26-27.
International law typically does not authorize individuals to vindicate rights by bringing actions in either international or municipal tribunals. “ ‘Like a general treaty, the law of nations has been held not to be self-executing so as to vest a plaintiff with individual legal rights.’ ” Dreyfus v. Von Finck, 534 F.2d at 31 (quoting Pauling v. McElroy, 164 F.Supp. at 393). -“[T]he usual method for an individual to seek relief is to exhaust local remedies and then repair to the executive authorities of his own state to persuade them to champion his claim in diplomacy or before an international tribunal.” Banco Nacional de Cuba v. Sabbatino, 376 U.S. at 422-23, 84 S.Ct. at 937-38.
This general relegation of individuals to a derivative role in the vindication of their legal rights stems from “[t]he traditional view of international law ... that it establishes substantive principles for determining whether one country has wronged another.” 376 U.S. at 422, 84 S.Ct. at 937. One scholar explained the primary role of states in international law as follows:
Since the Law of Nations is based on the common consent of individual States, States are the principal subjects of International Law. This means that the Law of Nations is primarily a law for the international conduct of States, and not of their citizens. As a rule, the subjects of the rights and duties arising from the Law of Nations are States solely and exclusively.
1 L. Oppenheim, International Law: A Treatise 19 (H. Lauterpacht 8th ed. 1955). Even statements of individuals’ rights or norms of individual conduct that have earned the universal assent of civilized nations do not become principles of international law unless they are “used by . .. states for their common good and/or in dealings inter se.” Lopes v. Reederei Richard Schroder, 225 F.Supp. 292, 297 (E.D.Pa. 1963) (footnote omitted). See Cohen v. Hartman, 634 F.2d 318, 319 (5th Cir.1981) (“The standards by which nations regulate their dealings with one another inter se constitute the ‘law of nations.’ ”); IIT v. Vencap, Ltd., 519 F.2d at 1015 (ten commandments not international law for this reason).25
If it is in large part because “the Law of Nations is primarily a law between States,” 1 L. Oppenheim, supra, at 636, that international law generally relies on an enforcement scheme in which individuals have no direct role, that reliance also reflects recognition of some other important characteristics of international law that distinguish it from municipal law. Chief among these is the limited role of law in the international realm. International law plays a much less pervasive role in the ordering of states’ conduct within the international community than does municipal law in the ordering of individuals’ conduct within nations. Unlike our nation, for example, the international community could not plausibly be described as governed by laws rather than men. “[IJnternational legal disputes are not as separable from politics as are domestic legal disputes.. .. ” First National City Bank v. Banco Nacional de Cuba, 406 U.S. at 775, 92 *818S.Ct. at 1816 (Powell, J., concurring in the judgment).
International law, unlike municipal law (at least in the United States), is not widely regarded as a tool of first or frequent resort and as the last word in the legitimate resolution of conflicts. Nations rely chiefly on diplomacy and other political tools in their dealings with each other, and these means are frequently incompatible with declarations of legal rights. Diplomacy demands great flexibility and focuses primarily on the future rather than on the past, often requiring states to refrain, for the sake of their future relations, from pronouncing judgment on past conduct. Cf. International Association of Machinists & Aerospace Workers v. OPEC, 649 F.2d 1354, 1358 (9th Cir.1981), cert, denied, 454 U.S. 1163, 102 S.Ct. 1036, 71 L.Ed.2d 319 (1982). Since states adopt international law to improve their relations with each other, it is hardly surprising in the current world that they should generally retain for themselves control over the ability to invoke it. Nor is it surprising that international law is invoked less often to secure authoritative adjudications than it is to bolster negotiating positions or to acquire public support for foreign-relations policies. “By and large, nations have resisted third-party settlement of their disputes and adjudicative techniques have played a very limited role in their relations.” Bilder, Some Limitations of Adjudication as an International Dispute Settlement Technique, 23 Va.J.Int’l L. 1, 1 (1982) (footnote omitted). One consequence is that international law has not been extensively developed through judicial decisions. See L. Henkin, R. Pugh, O. Schachter & H. Smit, supra, at 88 (“The strongly political character of many international issues accounts for the relative paucity of judicial decisions in contemporary international law.”).
This remains true even as international law has become increasingly concerned with individual rights. Some of the rights specified in the documents relied upon by appellants as stating principles of international law recognizing individual rights are clearly not expected to be judicially enforced throughout the world. E.g., Universal Declaration of Human Rights, G.A.Res. 217, 3 U.N.GAOR, U.N.Doc. 1/777 (1948) (right to life, liberty, and security of person; right to freedom from arbitrary detention; right to leave country; right to practice religion; right to speak and assemble; right to freely elected government); International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, Annex to G.A.Res. 2200, 21 U.N.GAOR Supp. (No. 16) at 52, U.N.Doc. A/6316 (1966) (similar list of rights); American Convention on Human Rights, Nov. 22, 1969, O.A.S. Official Records OEA/Ser. K/XVI/1.1, Doc. 65, Rev. 1, Corr. 1, reprinted in 9 I.L.M. 101 (1970), 65 Am.J.Int’l L. 679 (1971) (similar list of rights). Some of the key documents are meant to be statements of ideals and aspirations only; they are, in short, merely precatory. See 1 L. Oppenheim, supra, at 745; 19 Dep’t St.Bull, 751 (1948) (Universal Declaration on Human Rights “is not a treaty; it is not an international agreement. It is not and does not purport to be a statement of law or of legal obligation.”) (remarks of U.S. representative to U.N. General Assembly) (quoted in L. Henkin, R. Pugh, O. Schachter & H. Smit, supra, at 808). Some define rights at so high a level of generality or in terms so dependent for their meaning on particular social, economic, and political circumstances that they cannot be construed and applied by courts acting in a traditional adjudicatory manner. E.g., Universal Declaration of Human Rights, supra (rights to work, to just compensation, to leisure, to adequate standard of living, to education, to participation in cultural life); Declaration of the Rights of the Child, G.A.Res. 1386, 14 U.N.GAOR Supp. (No. 16) at 19, U.N.Doc. A/4354 (1959) (rights to opportunity to develop in normal manner, to grow up in atmosphere of affection and of moral and material security, to develop abilities, judgment and sense of moral and social responsibility, and to play). Some expressly oblige states to enact implementing legislation, thus impliedly denying a private cause of action. E.g., International Covenant on Civil and *819Political Rights, art. 2, supra;26 American Convention on Human Rights, art. 2, supra.
It may be doubted that courts should understand documents of this sort as having been assented to as law by all civilized nations since enforcement of the principles enunciated would revolutionize most societies. For that reason, among others, courts should hesitate long before finding violations of a “law of nations” evidenced primarily by the resolutions and declarations of multinational bodies. See Note, Custom and General Principles as Sources of International Law in American Federal Courts, 82 Colum.L.Rev. 751, 772-74, 780-83 (1982). In any event, many of the rights they declare clearly were not intended for judicial enforcement at the behest of individuals. The express provision in the European Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms, Nov. 4, 1950, art. 25, 213 U.N.T.S. 221, E.T.S. 5, of an international tribunal to which individuals may bring claims, thus evidencing states’ ability to provide private rights of action when they wish to do so, is an extraordinary exception that highlights the general absence of individual-complaint procedures. Even that exception, moreover, is a far cry from the authorization of ordinary municipal-court enforcement. Current international human rights law, in whatever sense it may be called “law,” is doubtless growing. But it remains true that even that branch of international law does not today generally provide a private right of action.
Appellants, therefore, are not granted a private right of action to bring this lawsuit either by a specific international legal right or impliedly by the whole or parts of international law.
VI.
In Filartiga v. Pena-Irala, 630 F.2d 876 (2d Cir.1980), the Second Circuit, which did not address the issue of the existence of a cause of action, held that section 1350 afforded jurisdiction over a claim brought by Paraguayan citizens against a former Paraguayan official. The plaintiffs, a father and daughter, alleged that the defendant had tortured his son, her brother, in violation of international law’s proscription of official torture. To highlight what I believe should be the basis for our holding, it is worth pointing out several significant differences between this case and Filartiga.
First, unlike the defendants in this case, the defendant in Filartiga was a state official acting in his official capacity. Second, the actions of the defendant in Filartiga were in violation of the constitution and laws of his state and were “wholly unrati-fied by that nation’s government.” 630 F.2d at 889. Third, the international law rule invoked in Filartiga was the proscription of official torture, a- principle that is embodied in numerous international conventions and declarations, that is “clear and *820unambiguous” in its application to the facts in Filartiga, id. at 884, and about which there is universal agreement “in the modern usage and practice of nations.” Id. at 883.
Thus, in Filartiga the defendant was clearly the subject of international-law duties, the challenged actions were not attributed to a participant in American foreign relations, and the relevant international law principle was one whose definition was neither disputed nor politically sensitive. None of that can be said about this case. For these reasons, not all of the analysis employed here would apply to deny a cause of action to the plaintiffs in FUarti-ga.
I differ with the Filartiga decision, however, because the court there did not address the question whether international law created a cause of action that the private parties before it could enforce in municipal courts. For the reasons given, that inquiry is essential.
VII.
The opinions in this case are already too long and complex for me to think it appropriate to respond in detail to Judge Edwards’ and Judge Robb’s arguments. A few points ought to be made, however, with respect to each . of the other concurring opinions.
A.
First, Judge Edwards attributes to me a number of positions that I do not hold. See Edwards’ op. at 777. For example, far from rejecting the four propositions he extracts from Filartiga, I accept the first three entirely and also agree with the fourth, but in a more limited form — namely, “section 1350 opens the federal courts for adjudication of rights already recognized by international law” but only when among those rights is that of individuals to enforce substantive rules in municipal courts.
Second, as noted earlier in this opinion, section 1350 provides jurisdiction for tort actions alleging violations of the “law of nations” and “treaties of the United States.” No process of construction can pry apart those sources of substantive law; in section 1350, they stand in parity. If, as Judge Edwards states and Filartiga assumes, section 1350 not only confers jurisdiction but creates a private cause of action for any violation of the “law of nations,” then it also creates a private cause of action for any violation of “treaties of the United States.” This means that all existing treaties became, and all future treaties will become, in effect, self-executing when ratified. This conclusion stands in flat opposition to almost two hundred years of our jurisprudence, and it is simply too late to discover such a revolutionary effect in this little-noticed statute. This consideration alone seems .to me an insuperable obstacle to the reading Judge Edwards and Filartiga give to section 1350.
Third, the implications of Judge Edwards’ theory — that section 1350 itself provides the requisite cause of action — cause him so much difficulty that he is forced to invent limiting principles. Thus, the law enunciated in Filartiga is said to cover only those acts recognized as “international crimes,” a category which he supposes not to be as broad as the prohibitions of the law of nations. This restriction may allay some, though by no means all, apprehensions about, what courts may get themselves and the United States into, but it comes out of nothing in the language of section 1350. According to that statute, jurisdiction exists as to any tort in violation of the law of nations.
The “alternative formulation” my colleague espouses requires even more legislation to tame its unruly nature. Recognizing that this “alternative formulation” would open American courts to disputes “wholly involving foreign states,” the concurrence erects a set of limiting principles. Three kinds of suits only are to be allowed: (1) by aliens for domestic torts committed on United States territory and that injure “substantial rights” under international law; (2) by aliens for “universal crimes” (no matter where committed); and (3) by aliens *821against Americans for torts committed abroad, “where redress in American courts might preclude international repercussions.” Edwards’ op. at 788. Aside from the unguided policy judgments which these definitions require, and whatever else may be said of them, it is clear that these limitations are in no way prescribed, or even suggested, by the language of section 1350. Rather, they are imposed upon that language for reasons indistinguishable from ordinary legislative prudence. The necessity for these judicially invented limitations merely highlights the error in the reading given section 1350.
Finally, in assessing a statute such as this — one whose genesis and purpose are, to say the least, in considerable doubt — some perspective is required. For a young, weak nation, one anxious to avoid foreign entanglements and embroilment in Europe’s disputes, to undertake casually and without debate to regulate the conduct of other nations and individuals abroad, conduct without an effect upon the interests of the United States, would be a piece of breathtaking folly — so breathtaking as to render incredible any reading of the statute that produces such results.
It is anomalous to suggest that such a reading is supported by Alexander Hamilton’s concern, expressed in The Federalist No. 80, that aliens' grievances be redressa-ble in federal courts. Hamilton was defending judicial authority which extended “to all those [cases] which involve the PEACE of the CONFEDERACY, whether they relate to the intercourse between the United States and foreign nations, or to that between the States themselves.” The Federalist No. 80 (A. Hamilton). His concerns were very largely met by federal diversity jurisdiction, and, it would seem, would be entirely met by a section 1350 which had the historical meaning I have suggested above as plausible.
If section 1350 had been designed to provide aliens with redress in order to place in federal courts all those disputes about treaties and international law that might provoke international incidents, the jurisdiction given would not have been limited to torts only. The concurrence’s response to this observation is to surmise a “compromise” for which there is absolutely no historical evidence.
But the trouble goes deeper than this. Judge Edwards’ reading of the statute gives federal jurisdiction to suits between aliens for violations of international law and treaties of the United States. He suggests that this is proper because “[a] denial of justice might create the perception that the United States is siding with one party, thereby affronting the state of the other.” Edwards’ op. at 784 n. 13. This turns Hamilton’s argument on its head. A refusal by a United States court to hear a dispute between aliens is much less offensive to the states involved than would be an acceptance of jurisdiction and a decision on the merits. In the latter case, the state of the losing party would certainly be affronted, particularly where the United States’ interests are not involved. The United States would be perceived, and justly so, not as a nation magnanimously refereeing international disputes but as an officious interloper and an international busybody.
Indeed, it seems to me that Judge Edwards’ interpretation would require us to hear this case, thus thrusting the United States into this improper and undesirable role. It can be argued that appellants here have alleged “official” torture: the complaint alleges that the PLO, in carrying out its attack, which the complaint alleges to have included torture, was acting at the behest of and in conjunction with Libya. Viewed this way, this case is indistinguishable from Filartiga, and as such, Judge Edwards’ approach would force us to hear it. In entertaining such a suit, one of the issues would be whether the relationship between the PLO and Libya constituted that of agent and principal, so that Libya should be held responsible for the PLO’s actions. The prospect of a federal court ordering discovery on such an issue, to say nothing of actually deciding it, is, or ought to be, little short of terrifying. If anything is likely to *822disturb the “PEACE of the CONFEDERACY,” this is.
If more needs to be said against the construction my colleague and the Filartiga court would give section 1350, it may be observed that their interpretation runs against the grain of the Constitution. It does so by confiding important aspects of foreign relations to the Article III judiciary despite the fact that the Constitution, in Article II and Article I, places that responsibility in the President and Congress. That is the fundamental reason I have argued that it is improper for judges to infer a private cause of action not explicitly granted.
B.
Judge Robb misapprehends- my position, equating it, in many respects, with Judge Edwards’. I have not read section 1350 as authorizing the courts to enter into sensitive areas of foreign policy: quite the contrary. As I have suggested, the statute probably was intended to cover only a very limited set of tort actions by aliens, none of-which is capable of adversely affecting foreign policy. Since international law does not, nor is it likely to, recognize the capacity of private plaintiffs to litigate its rules in municipal courts, as a practical matter only an act of Congress or a treaty negotiated by the President and ratified by the Senate could create a cause of action that would direct courts to entertain cases like this one. Should such an improbable statute or treaty come into existence, it will be time to ask whether the constitutional core of the political question doctrine precludes jurisdiction. That inquiry would necessarily be constitutional in scope, for the prudential aspect of the doctrine would be insufficient to deny jurisdiction if Congress had tried to do what Filartiga supposes. Judge Robb apparently thinks that the constitutional core applies, since he invokes the political question doctrine without even inquiring whether the statute applies to a case like this.
Judge Robb chides me for stating that the PLO “bears significantly upon the foreign relations of the United States.” He states that I thereby give that organization “more in the way of official recognition than [it] has ever before gained from any institution of the national government.” As it happens, that is not correct. Numerous officials of the United States have discussed the problems posed by the PLO for American foreign policy, including the President and the Secretary of State.27 Judicial circumspection is certainly an admirable quality, but a court need not be so demure that it cannot even mention what the world knows and the highest officials of our government publicly discuss. It is, moreover, particularly startling to see the case for such extraordinary prudence made in an opinion that itself contains clear implications of responsibility for worldwide terrorism. It is surely self-defeating to engage in such speculations in order to avoid making the milder observation that the PLO affects our foreign relations.
Were the matter mine to decide, I would probably agree that the constitutional core of the political question doctrine bars this or any similar action. But I am bound by Supreme Court precedent and that precedent, in general and as it bears in particular upon the constitutional component of the doctrine, is most unclear. For that reason, *823and others I have specified, see supra pp. 803 & note 8, it seems better to rest the case upon the grounds I have chosen. The result is the same. I would have said that this course has the additional virtue of giving guidance to the bar, but, as matters have turned out, the three opinions we have produced can only add to the confusion surrounding this subject. The meaning and application of section 1350 will have to await clarification elsewhere. Since section 1350 appears to be generating an increasing amount of litigation, it is to be hoped that clarification will not be long delayed. In the meantime, it is impossible to say even what the law of this circuit is. Though we agree on nothing else, I am sure my colleagues join me in finding that regrettable.
ROBB, Senior Circuit Judge:I concur in the result, but must withhold approval of the reasoning of my colleagues. Both have written well-researched and scholarly opinions that stand as testaments to the difficulty which this case presents. Both agree that this case must be dismissed though their reasons vary greatly. Both look backward to Filartiga v. Pena-Irala, 630 F.2d 876 (2d Cir.1980), and forward to the future efforts of others maimed or murdered at the hands of thugs clothed with power who are unfortunately present in great numbers in the international order. But both Judges Bork and Edwards fail to reflect on the inherent inability of federal courts to deal with cases such as this one. It seems to me that the political question doctrine controls. This case is noni'usticia-ble.
A. This case involves standards that defy judicial application.
Tort law requires both agreement on the action which constitutes the tort and the means by which it can be determined who bears responsibility for the unlawful injury. Federal courts are not in a position to determine the international status of terrorist acts. Judge Edwards, for example, notes that “the nations of the world are so divisively split on the legitimacy of such aggression as to make it impossible to pinpoint an area of harmony or consensus.” Edwards Opinion at 795. This nation has no difficulty with the question in the context of this case, of course, nor do I doubt for a moment that the attack on the Haifa highway amounts to barbarity in naked and unforgivable form. No diplomatic posturing as represented in sheaves of United Nations documents — no matter how high the pile might reach — could convince me otherwise. But international “law”, or the absence thereof, renders even the search for the least common denominators of civilized conduct in this area an impossible-to-accomplish judicial task. Courts ought not to engage in it when that search takes us towards a consideration of terrorism’s place in the international order. Indeed, when such a review forces us to dignify by judicial notice the most outrageous of the diplomatic charades that attempt to dignify the violence of terrorist atrocities, we corrupt our own understanding of evil.
Even more problematic would be the single court’s search for individual responsibility for any given terrorist outrage. International terrorism consists of a web that the courts are not positioned to unweave. To attempt to discover the reach of its network and the origins of its design may result in unintended disclosures imperiling sensitive diplomacy. This case attempts to focus on the so-called P.L.O. But which P.L.O.? Arafat’s, Habash’s, or Syria’s? And can we conceive of a successful attempt to sort out ultimate responsibility for these crimes? Many believe that most roads run East in this area.1 Are courts prepared to travel *824these highways? Are they equipped to do so? It is one thing for a student note-writer to urge that courts accept the challenges involved.2 It is an entirely different matter for a court to be asked to conduct such a hearing successfully. The dangers are obvious. To grant the initial access in the face of an overwhelming probability of frustration of the trial process as we know it is an unwise step. As courts could never compel the allegedly responsible parties to attend proceedings much less to engage in a meaningful judicial process, they ought to avoid such imbroglios from the beginning.
B. This case involves questions that touch on sensitive matters of diplomacy that uniquely demand a singlevoiced statement of policy by the Government.
Judge Bork’s opinion finds it necessary to treat the international status of the P.L.O., and to suggest that that organization “bears significantly on the foreign relations of the United States.” Bork Opinion at 805. This is considerably more in the way of official recognition than this organization has ever before gained from any institution of the national government. I am not in a position to comment with authority on any of these matters. There has been no executive recognition of this group, and for all our purposes it ought to remain an organization “of whose existence we know nothing ...” United States v. Klintock, 18 U.S. 144, 149 (5 Wheat.) 5 L.Ed. 55 (1820). As John Jay noted; “It seldom happens in the negotiations of treaties, of whatever nature, but that perfect secrecy and immediate dispatch are sometimes requisite.” The Federalist, # 64, Jay (Paul L. Ford, ed.). What was then true about treaties remains true for all manner of modern diplomatic contacts. It may be necessary for our government to deal on occasion with terrorists. It is not, however, for courts to wonder aloud as to whether these negotiations have, are, or will be taking place. Western governments have displayed a near uniform reluctance to engage in much discussion on the organization and operation of terrorist groups, much less on any hidden contacts with them.3 When a genre *825of cases threatens to lead courts repeatedly into the area of such speculations, then that is a signal to the courts that they have taken a wrong turn. The President may be compelled by urgent matters to deal with the most undesirable of men. The courts must be careful to preserve his flexibility and must hesitate to publicize and perhaps legitimize that which ought to remain hidden and those who deserve the brand of absolute illegitimacy. By jumping the political question threshold here, my colleagues appear to be leading us in just the opposite direction.
C. Questions connected to the activities of terrorists have historically been within the exclusive domain of the executive and legislative branches.
The conduct of foreign affairs has never been accepted as a general area of judicial competence. Particular exceptions have, of course, arisen. When the question is precisely defined, when the facts are appropriately clear, the judiciary has not hesitated to decide cases connected with American foreign policy.4
But cases which would demand close scrutiny of terrorist acts are far beyond these limited exceptions to the traditional judicial reticence displayed in the face of foreign affairs cases. That traditional deference to the other branches has stemmed, in large part, from a fear of undue interference in the affairs of state, not only of this nation but of all nations. Judge Mulligan, writing in Hunt v. Mobil Oil Corp., 550 F.2d 68 (2d Cir.), cert, denied 434 U.S. 984, 98 S.Ct. 608, 54 L.Ed.2d 477 (1977), warned that a “Serbian Bog” awaits courts that inquire into the policies of foreign sovereigns. Id. at 77. A model of judicial deference, appropriately invoked, is Diggs v. Richardson, 555 F.2d 848 (D.C.Cir.1976). In that case this court was asked to enforce a United Nations Security Council Resolution. This court ruled in effect that the matter was nonjusticia-ble, and a part of the reasoning supporting that conclusion was that the Resolution did not provide specific standards suitable to “conventional adjudication”. Id. at 851. The court added that the standards that were supplied were “foreign to the general experience and function of American courts”. Id. In refusing to allow the case to be jimmied into our judicial process, the court was fully aware that its deference did not abdicate all American participation in the issues raised by the Resolution. Our nation’s involvement in the diplomatic arena was in no way circumscribed by judicial circumspection.
Similarly, the issues raised by this case are treated regularly by the other branches of the national government. One need only review the work of the Subcommittee on Security and Terrorism of the Senate Committee on the Judiciary to recognize that the whole dangerous dilemma of terrorism and the United States response to it are subjects of repeated and thorough inquiry. See, e.g., Historical Antecedents of Soviet Terrorism Before the Subcomm. on Security and Terrorism of the Senate Comm, on Judiciary, 97th Cong., 1st Sess. 1 (1981). See also, Extradition Reform Act of 1981: Hearings on H.R. 5227 Before the Sub-comm. on Crime of the House Comm, on the Judiciary, 97th Cong., 2d Sess. 1 (1982). The executive branch is also deeply involved in the monitoring and attempted control of terrorist activities. See, e.g., The Role of Cuba in International Terrorism and Subversion, Intelligence Activities of the DGI, Before the Subcomm. on Security and Terrorism of the Senate Comm, on Judiciary, 97th Cong., 2d Sess. 85 (1982) (statement of Fred C. Ikle, Undersecretary of Defense for Policy). The President has repeatedly demonstrated his concern that terrorism be combated, both in his statements at home, and in the declarations that have accompanied his meetings with our allies. See 18 Weekly Compilation of Presidential Documents, 35, 575, 763, 783, 1352 (1982). It is thus obvious that even with this declaration of nonjusticiability by the court, the work of tracing and assessing responsibility for terrorist acts will continue by those parts of the government which by *826tradition and accumulated expertise are far better positioned than the courts to conduct such inquiries.
D. Cases such as this one are not susceptible to judicial handling.
As noted above in section A, the pragmatic problems associated with proceedings designed to bring terrorists to the bar are numerous and intractable. One other note must be added. Courts have found it extremely difficult to apply the “political exception” doctrine in extradition proceedings when those proceedings have concerned prisoners who are accused of terrorist activities. See Abu Eain v. Adams, 529 F.Supp. 685 (N.D.Ill.1980) and McMullen v. Immigration and Naturalization Service, 658 F.2d 1312 (9th Cir.1981). This difficulty is so pronounced that one member of the executive branch has testified to Congress that there is simply “no justiciable standard to the political offense,” and that when courts have been confronted with such situations, “there has been a tendency for a breakdown in the ability of our courts to process extradition questions,” with the result that courts “tend to beg the question ... ”. Extradition Reform Act of 1981, Hearings on H.R. 5227 Before Subcomm. on Crime of the House Comm, on the Judiciary, 97th Cong., 2d Sess. 24-25 (Testimony of Roger Olson, Deputy Asst. Attorney General, Criminal Division, U.S. Dept, of Justice). If courts are vexed by these questions within the limited context of extradition proceedings — an area in which there is considerable judicial experience — it is easy to anticipate the breakdowns that would accompany proceedings under 28 U.S.C. § 1350 if they are allowed to go forward. Sound consideration of the limits of judicial ability demands invocation of the political question doctrine here. This is only common sense and a realistic measure of roles that courts are simply not equipped to play.
E. The possible consequences of judicial action in this area are injurious to the national interest.
The certain results of judicial recognition of jurisdiction over cases such as this one are embarrassment to the nation, the transformation of trials into forums for the exposition of political propaganda, and debasement of commonly accepted notions of civilized conduct.
We are here confronted with the easiest case and thus the most difficult to resist. It was a similar magnet that drew the Second Circuit into its unfortunate position in Filartiga.5 But not all cases of this type will be so easy. Indeed, most would be far less attractive. The victims of international violence perpetrated by terrorists are spread across the globe. It is not implausible that every alleged victim of violence of the counter-revolutionaries in such places as Nicaraugua and Afghanistan could argue just as compellingly as the plaintiffs here do, that they are entitled to their day in the courts of the United States. The victims of the recent massacres in Lebanon could also mount such claims. Indeed, there is no obvious or subtle limiting principle in sight. Even recognized dissidents who have es*827caped from the Soviet Union could conceivably bring suit for violations of international law having to do with the conditions of their earlier confinements. Each supposed scenario carries with it an incredibly complex calculus of actors, circumstances, and geopolitical considerations. The courts must steer resolutely away from involvement in this manner of case. It is too glib to assert simply that courts are used to dealing with difficult questions. They are not used to this kind of question.
The more arcane aspects of international law connected to this case are dealt with by my colleagues. Their reviews of the subject are quite exhaustive and their speculations on the riddle of § 1350 are innovative. But it is all quite unnecessary. Especially inappropriate is their apparent reliance for guidance on the distinguished commentators in this field. I agree with the sentiment expressed by Chief Justice Fuller in his dissent to The Paquete Habana, 175 U.S. 677, 20 S.Ct. 290, 44 L.Ed. 320 (1900), where he wrote that it was “needless to review the speculations and repetitions of writers on international law.... Their lucubrations may be persuasive, but are not authoritative.” Id. at 720, 20 S.Ct. at 307 (Fuller, J. dissenting). Courts ought not to serve as debating clubs for professors willing to argue over what is or what is not an accepted violation of the law of nations. Yet this appears to be the clear result if we allow plaintiffs the opportunity to proceed under § 1350. Plaintiffs would troop to court marshalling their “experts” behind them. Defendants would quickly organize their own platoons of authorities. The typical judge or jury would be swamped in citations to various distinguished journals of international legal studies, but would be left with little more than a numbing sense of how varied is the world of public international “law”.
Judge Edwards writes that “[t]his case deals with an area of law that cries out for clarification by the Supreme Court. We confront at every turn broad and novel questions about the definition and application of the ‘law of nations’.” Edwards Opinion at 775. I must disagree. When a case presents broad and novel questions of this sort, courts ought not to appeal for guidance to the Supreme Court, but should instead look to Congress and the President. Should these branches of the Government decide that questions of this sort are proper subjects for judicial inquiry, they can then provide the courts with the guidelines by which such inquiries should proceed. We ought not to parlay a two hundred years-old statute into an entree into so sensitive an area of foreign policy. We have no reliable evidence whatsoever as to what purpose this “legal Lohengrin”, as Judge Friendly put it, was intended to serve. ITT v. Vencap, Ltd., 519 F.2d 1001, 1015 (2d Cir.1975). We ought not to cobble together for it a modern mission on the vague idea that international law develops over the years. Law may evolve, but statutes ought not to mutate. To allow § 1350 the opportunity to support future actions of the sort both countenanced in Filartiga and put forward here is to judicially will that statute a new life. Every consideration that informs the sound application of the political question doctrine militates against this result. My colleagues concede that the origins and purposes of this statute are obscure, but it is certainly obvious that it was never intended by its drafters to reach this kind of ease. Accordingly, I concur in the decision to affirm the dismissal of this case.
. Appellants have not pursued the appeal against a fifth defendant named in the complaint, the Palestine Congress of North America (“PCNA”).
. The district court dismissed the action against all defendants on the alternative ground that it was barred by the local one-year statute of limitations for certain torts. D.C.Code Ann. § 12-301(4) (1981). Hanoch Tel-Oren v. Libyan Arab Republic, 517 F.Supp. 542, 550-51 (D.D.C.1981). Because we agree that the complaint was properly dismissed on other grounds, we need not reach this ground. Nor need we reach the district court’s dismissal of the action against the NAAA and PIO (as well as the PCNA) on the ground that the allegations of the complaint were insufficiently specific. See note 4 infra.
. In the district court, appellants also argued that jurisdiction rested on 28 U.S.C. § 1330 (1976) (Foreign Sovereign Immunities Act) and on 28 U.S.C. § 1332 (1976) (diversity). The district court rejected both grounds of jurisdiction, 517 F.Supp. at 549 n. 3, and appellants have abandoned them on appeal.
. The district court found the complaint’s allegations against the PIO and the NAAA (and against the PCNA) insubstantial, vague, and devoid of any factual detail. It therefore held those allegations insufficient to support a tort action for damages. 517 F.Supp. at 549.
. Count I charges defendants with the torts of assault, battery, false imprisonment, and intentional infliction of mental distress; it also charges defendants with a tort it describes as the intentional infliction of cruel, inhuman, and degrading treatment. Count IV charges defendants with tortious actions in violation of various criminal laws of the United States. Count V charges defendants with conspiracy to commit the torts specified in Counts I through IV.
The district court dismissed Count IV on the ground that none of the federal statutes relied on by plaintiffs, 18 U.S.C. §§ 371, 956-957, 960, 1651-1652, 1654, 1661 (1976), provides a private right of action for damages. 517 F.Supp. at 545. Appellants have not appealed this ruling. Counts I and V provide no independent basis for federal jurisdiction under the two statutes alleged to vest the district court with jurisdiction. 28 U.S.C. §§ 1331, 1350 (1976 & Supp. V 1981).
. The Tel-Oren plaintiffs are citizens of the United States, and the Drory plaintiffs are citizens of the Netherlands. The other plaintiffs are citizens of Israel. All the plaintiffs reside in Israel.
. The Supreme Court also discussed the act of state doctrine in First National City Bank v. Banco Nacional de Cuba, 406 U.S. 759, 92 S.Ct. 1808, 32 L.Ed.2d 466 (1972), but the case produced no majority opinion. Nonetheless, all of the Justices except Justice Douglas, who scarcely addressed the act of state doctrine, stated that judicial abstention from pronouncing judgment on the validity of a foreign act of state turns on separation of powers concerns.
Four Justices said that application of the act of state doctrine depends chiefly on the potential for interference with, or usurpation of, the political branches’ primary role in foreign affairs. Justice Rehnquist, joined by Chief Justice Burger and Justice White, stated: “The line of cases from this Court establishing the act of state doctrine justifies its existence primarily on the basis that juridical review of acts of state of a foreign power could embarrass the conduct of foreign relations by the political branches of the government.” 406 U.S. at 765, 92 S.Ct. at 1812 (Opinion of Rehnquist, J.). He also stated: “The act of state doctrine is grounded on judicial concern that application of customary principles of law to judge the acts of a foreign sovereign might frustrate the conduct of foreign relations by the political branches of the government.” Id. at 767-68, 92 S.Ct. at 1813. Justice Powell, writing separately, echoed these views. The act of state doctrine, he said, bars adjudication when and only when “it appears that an exercise of jurisdiction would interfere with delicate foreign relations conducted by the political branches.” Id. at 775-76, 92 S.Ct. at 1813 (Powell, J., concurring in the judgment).
Justice Brennan, joined by Justices Stewart, Marshall, and Blackmun, disagreed with the view that the act of state doctrine was exclusively concerned with interference with other branches’ conduct of foreign relations. Rather, he wrote, the act of state doctrine is one part of the political question doctrine and therefore depends for its application on a variety of considerations, no one of which — not even the Executive’s declaration that adjudication will not interfere with foreign relations — can be conclusive on the ultimate determination whether an issue is fit for judicial resolution. 406 U.S. at 785-93, 92 S.Ct. at 1822-25 (Brennan, J., dissenting).
. A plaintiff who has no cause of action is, according to Davis v. Passman, 442 U.S. at 240 n. 18, 99 S.Ct. at 2274 n. 18, not entitled to “invoke the power of the court.” He is not entitled to a pronouncement on the legal merits of his claim. In that respect he is more like a plaintiff who lacks standing than he is like a plaintiff facing a motion to dismiss for failure to state a claim. That is especially true in a case like this, where judicial consideration of the legal merits is of constitutional concern, so that parties should not be able to waive the claim that no cause of action exists. In these circumstances, whether a cause of action exists is a threshold issue that involves a question of the limits of judicial powers.
I do not conceive that, in a case like this, the political question doctrine must be considered first because it is jurisdictional. The jurisdictional aspect of that doctrine extends no further than its rationale: to prevent courts from reaching the merits of issues that, for a variety of reasons, are not theirs to decide. Baker v. Carr, 369 U.S. at 217, 82 S.Ct. at 710. By deciding that there is no private cause of action here we do not reach substantive issues that are best decided by the political branches. It may be; moreover, that while the existence of a cause of action is not a jurisdictional issue in the ordinary case, it is, or is closely akin, to a jurisdictional issue when its decision implicates, as here, considerations linked to the proper exercise of the judicial power granted by Article III of the Constitution. It is probably better not to invoke the political question doctrine in this case. That the contours of the doctrine are murky and unsettled is shown by the lack of consensus about its meaning among the members of the Supreme Court, see Goldwater v. Carter, 444 U.S. 996, 100 S.Ct. 533, 62 L.Ed.2d 428 (1979), and among scholars, see, e.g., Henkin, Is There A “Political Question" Doctrine?, 85 Yale L.J. 597, 622-23 (1976). Given this situation, I would rather not decide whether a political question is involved in a case where that issue has not been briefed and argued. By contrast, the grounds upon which I do decide were thoroughly explored through vigorous adversarial presentations.
. “The state as a person of international law should possess the following qualifications: a) a permanent population; b) a defined territory; c) government; and d) capacity to enter into relations with the other states.” Convention on Rights and Duties of States, Dec. 26, 1933, art. 1, 49 Stat. 3097, T.S. No. 881, 165 L.N.T.S. 19. See also Restatement (Second) of the Foreign Relations Law of the United States § 4 (1965). Furthermore, the act of state doctrine would still not apply, even if the PLO is said to have been the agent of Libya, since the attack did not take place “within [Libya’s] own territory.” Sabbatino, 376 U.S. at 401, 84 S.Ct. at 926.
. If jurisdiction rested on section 1331, at least one necessary rule of decision would have to be supplied by international law, the federal law under which the case arose. See Franchise Tax Board v. Construction Laborers Vacation Trust for Southern California, -U.S. -, 103 S.Ct. 2841, 2846-48, 77 L.Ed.2d 420 (1983). If jurisdiction rested on section 1350, there are three arguable theories about what law would supply the rule of decision. The rule of decision might be the international law (treaty or customary international law) violated; it might be a federal common law of torts; or it might be the tort law of whatever jurisdiction applicable choice of law principles would point to. Cf. Blum & Steinhardt, Federal Jurisdiction over International Human Rights Claims: The Alien Tort Claims Act after Filartiga v. Pena-Irala, 22 Harv. Int’l L.J. 53, 99-100 (1981). Under the latter two constructions, of course, whether international law was violated would have to be decided as a jurisdictional prerequisite.
. A state-court suit that involved a determination of international law would require consideration of much that I discuss here as well as the principle that foreign relations are constitu*805tionally relegated to the federal government and not the states. See Zschernig v. Miller, 389 U.S. 429, 88 S.Ct. 664, 19 L.Ed.2d 683 (1968).
. The existence of severe separation of powers problems in adjudicating appellants’ claims reinforces my conclusion, see infra pp. 816— 819, that international law affords appellants no cause of action. The potential for interference with governments conducting their foreign relations is central both to separation of powers limits on jurisdiction and to international law’s general refusal to grant private rights of action. The existence of such a potential in any case must count strongly against international law’s providing a private right of action for that case.
. Libya must be dismissed from the case because the Foreign Sovereign Immunities Act, 28 U.S.C. §§ 1330, 1602-1611 (1976), plainly deprives us of jurisdiction over Libya. See Verlinden B.V. v. Central Bank of Nigeria,U.S.-, 103 S.Ct. 1962, 76 L.Ed.2d 81 (1983) (court must decide immunity question, which is jurisdictional). Because the alleged actions of the PIO and the NAAA all involve giving assistance to the PLO’s alleged actions, an adjudication of the claims against them would require adjudication of the claims against the PLO. If, as I conclude, the latter presents sufficiently serious problems that no cause of action can be inferred, so too must the former. I therefore concern myself only with the PLO. Of course, adjudication of the complaint against Libya would present many of the same separation of powers problems as would adjudication of the complaint against the other defendants.
. One aspect of this problem is the apparent assumption of state action in the definition of certain international legal principles. Thus, the United Nations General Assembly has defined torture as “any act by which severe pain or suffering is intentionally inflicted by or at the instigation of a public official.” G.A.Res. 3452, art. 1, 30 U.N. GAOR Supp. (No. 34) at 91, U.N. Doc. A/10034 (1975). This assumption of state action is one reason why it is by no means utterly obvious that the torture alleged in appellants’ complaint would be prohibited by international law.
. It is worth noting that even the 1972 United States Draft Convention for the Prevention and Punishment of Certain Acts of International Terrorism, 67 Dep’t St.Bull. 431 (1972), would present some problems to appellants. First, it makes motive a key to violation. Second, like the European Convention on the Suppression of Terrorism, Jan. 27, 1977, 15 I.L.M. 1272 (1976), the 1972 Draft Convention relies on criminal remedies for the vindication of the rights specified, thus leaving the power to invoke remedies in the hands of states. Third, the 1972 Draft Convention does not protect citizens of a state against attack within the state.
. For example, private enforcement of what is perhaps the fundamental principle of the Charter — the nonaggression principle of article 2, section 4 — would flood courts throughout the world with the claims of victims of alleged aggression (claims that would be extremely common) and would seriously interfere with normal diplomacy.
. Because none of the treaties cited by appel- ' lants provides them a cause of action, it is unnecessary to decide whether any of the treaties imposes duties on parties such as appellees here. Thus, in particular, there is no need to inquire into the contacts with the United States of appellees and their actions. That inquiry is also unnecessary for a decision on Count II of appellants’ complaint, as I conclude that appellants have no cause of action for that count on grounds independent of the closeness of appel-lees’ United States contacts.
. The district court rejected it on the general ground that “an action predicated on ... norms of international law must have at its basis a specific right to a private claim” found in international law itself. 517 F.Supp. at 549. That formulation is very likely too strong, as it would seem to deny Congress the power to provide individuals a statutory right of action to seek damages for international law violations not actionable under international law itself.
. Appellants argue that a citizen’s access to federal courts to seek damages for a tort committed in violation of international law should be the same as an alien’s access. International law’s special concern for aliens might suggest to the contrary, see L. Henkin, R. Pugh, O. Schachter & H. Smit, supra, at 685-803, 805, and the restriction of section 1350 to aliens might reflect that concern. This question need not be pursued, however, since, for reasons having nothing to do with appellants’ citizenship, they have no cause of action in this case.
. Section 1350, the Alien Tort Claims Act, was enacted by the First Congress in section 9 of the Judiciary Act of September 24, 1789, ch. 20, 1 Stat. 73, 76-77. The original statute read: “[T]he district courts ... shall ... have cognizance, concurrent with the courts of the several States, or the circuit courts, as the case may be, of all causes where an alien sues for a tort only in violation of the law of nations or a treaty of the United States.”
. In nearly two hundred years, jurisdiction has been predicated successfully under section 1350 only three times. Filartiga v. Pena-Irala, 630 F.2d 876 (2d Cir.1980) (jurisdiction over allegation of official torture not ratified by official’s state); Adra v. Clift, 195 F.Supp. 857 (D.Md.1961) (child custody dispute between two aliens; wrongful withholding of custody is a tort, and defendant’s falsification of child’s passport to procure custody violated law of nations); Bolchos v. Darrel, 3 F.Cas. 810 (D.S. C.1795) (No. 1607) (suit for restitution of three slaves who were on board a Spanish ship seized as a prize of war; treaty with France superseded law of nations; 1350 alternative basis of jurisdiction).
. That Blackstone refers to these three classes of offenses as not only violations of the law of nations, but censured as such by the municipal law of England does not require the conclusion that in America these three types of violations did not carry with them a private cause of action for which section 1350 gave the necessary jurisdiction to federal courts. The former colonies picked up the law of England as their own. As stated in the Preface to the American Edition of Blackstone: “The common Jaw is as much the birth-right of an American as of an Englishman. It is our law, as well as the law of England, it having been brought thence, and established here as far forth as it was found fitted to our institutions and the circumstances of the country.” W. Blackstone, Commentaries vii (1854) (emphasis in original). English statutes, which were, of course, part of the municipal law, were also adopted as part of American common law, to the extent that their “collective and equitable principles had become so interwoven with the common law, as to be scarcely distinguishable therefrom.” Fitch v. Brainerd, 2 Conn. 163 (1805), quoted in Jones, The Reception of the Common Law in the United States in H. Jones, J. Kernochan, & A. Murphy, Legal Method: Cases and Text Materials (1980). And at least some offenses against the law of nations, such as violations of safe-conducts, resulted not only in criminal punishment but in restitution for the alien out of the offender’s effects. W. Blackstone, Commentaries 69.
. The crime of piracy was often defined as piracy jure gentium —piracy by the law of nations, as distinguished from piracy by municipal law. E.g., 2 J. Moore, A Digest of International Law § 311, at 951-52 (1906); Dickinson, Is the Crime of Piracy Obsolete?, 38 Harv.L. Rev. 334, 335-36 (1925) (“The Crime of Piracy”). The crime of piracy was thought to be sufficiently defined by the law of nations. The Federalist No. 42 (J. Madison) (“The definition of piracies might, perhaps, without inconveni-ency, be left to the law of nations; though a legislative definition of them is found in most municipal codes. A definition of felonies on the high seas, is evidently requisite.”). Although the Congress, in defining piracy in the Federal Crimes Act of 1790 confused the concepts of piracy defined by the law of nations and piracy defined by municipal law, Act of Apr. 30, 1790, ch. 9, § 8, 1 Stat. 112, 113-14; see The Crime of Piracy at 342-49, Congress later changed the definition in reaction to the very first Supreme Court case construing section 8, United States v. Palmer, 16 U.S. (3 Wheat.) 610, 4 L.Ed. 471 (1818). The new statute punished “the crime of piracy, as defined by the law of nations.” Act of Mar. 3, 1819, ch. 77, § 5, 3 Stat. 510, 513-14. See The Crime of Piracy at 342-49. Thus, Justice Story, in United States v. Smith, 18 U.S. (5 Wheat.) 71, 75, 5 L.Ed. 57 (1820), wrote that “whether we advert to writers on the common law, or the maritime law, or the law of nations, we shall find, that they universally treat of piracy as an offence against the law of nations, and that its true definition by that law is robbery upon the sea.” Furthermore, in a celebrated footnote of more than eight and one-half pages, Justice Story showed that “piracy is defined by the law of nations.” Id. at 75-84, 5 L.Ed. 57.
Opening federal courts to tort suits based on piracy would not, apparently, have involved courts in foreign relations since piracy was, as stated in United States v. Smith, merely robbery on the high seas. It could not be committed by nations, or by anyone acting for reasons other than for plunder. According to Hack-worth, “when the acts in question are committed from purely political motive, it is hardly possible to regard them as acts of piracy involving all the important consequences which follow upon the commission of that crime.” G. Hackworth, Digest of International Law § 203, at 681 (1941).
. Nor is there any significance to the fact that in The Paquete Habana the court assumed a private cause of action to exist. That case involved a branch of the law of nations — prize jurisdiction under maritime law — which had long recognized the right of private enforcement. That, as will be shown, is not universally true of international law and most particularly is not true of the area in which this case falls.
. Further evidence that “the Law of Nations is primarily a law between States” is the key role played by nationality in the availability to individuals of international legal protection. 1 L. Oppenheim, supra, at 640. Even nationals however, cannot themselves generally invoke that protection: “if individuals who possess nationality are wronged abroad, it is, as a rule, their home State only and exclusively which has a right to ask for redress, and these individuals themselves have no such right.” Id (footnote omitted).
. The International Covenant- on Civil and Political Rights directs states to provide a forum for private vindication of rights under the Covenant. That provision, however, should not be taken to suggest the Covenant grants or recognizes a private right of action in municipal courts in a case like this. First, the Covenant directs states to provide forums only for the vindication of rights against themselves, not for the vindication of rights against other states. It is only the latter that raises all the political, foreign relations problems that lie behind international law’s general rule against private causes of action; thus, even if the Covenant suggests recognition of a private cause of action for the former, it does not do so for the latter.' Second, the Covenant does not itself say individuals can sue; rather, it leaves to states the fulfillment of an obligation to create private rights of action.
It is worth noting that the Human Rights Committee established by article 41 of the Covenant provides for complaints about a state’s conduct to be brought only by another state and then only if the “defendant” state consents to the Committee’s jurisdiction. An Optional Protocol, Annex to G.A.Res. 2200, 21 U.N. GAOR Supp. (No. 16) at 59, U.N. Doc. A/6316 (1966), provides for individuals’ complaints. As of 1980, it had been signed by thirty states; the United States is not among them. See L. Henkin, R. Pugh, O. Schachter & H. Smit, Basic Documents Supplement to International Law 336 (1980). See generally Sohn, The New International Law: Protection of the Rights of Individuals Rather than States, 32 Am.U.L.Rev. 1, 21-23 (1982).
. See, e.g., Meeting with Hispanic, Labor, and Religious Press, 19 Weekly Comp.Pres.Doc. 1245, 1248-49 (Sept. 14, 1983) (President Reagan’s response to question: “[Ó]ne of the reasons why we would never negotiate with the PLO, [is] because they openly said they denied the right of Israel to be a nation.”); Foreign and Domestic Issues, Question-and-Answer Session with Reporters, 19 Weekly Comp.Pres. Doc. 643, 647-48 (May 4, 1983) (President Reagan’s response to question: “[A]re they going to stand still for their interests being neglected on the basis of an action taken by this group, the PLO, which, as I say, was never elected by the Palestinian people?”); N.Y. Times, Nov. 10, 1983, at A12, col. 5 (remarks of Under Secretary of State for Political Affairs Lawrence S. Eagleburger). And, most recently, the New York Times reported on its front page Secretary of State George P. Shultz’s comments that “the outcome of the struggle within the Palestine Liberation Organization was certain to have ‘major implications’ for the future of the American-sponsored peace efforts in the Middle East.” N.Y. Times, Nov. 20, 1983, at A1, col. 5.
. See, e.g. Implementation of the Helsinki Accords, Hearing Before the Commission on Security and Cooperation in Europe, The Assassination Attempt on Pope John Paul II, 97th Cong., 2d Sess. 20 (Statement of Michael A. Ledeen) (“[M]any terrorist organizations get support from the Soviet Union and its many surrogates around the world. I do not think there should be much doubt about the matter. The Russians train PLO terrorists in the Soviet Union, supervise the training of terrorists from all over the world in Czechoslovakia — or at *824least they did until recently, according to a leading defector, General Jan Sejna — and work hand in glove with countries like Libya, Cuba, and South Yemen in the training of terrorists.”) See also Adams, Lessons and Links of Anti-Turk Terrorism, Wall St.J., Aug. 16, 1983, at 32, col. 6 (The Armenian Secret Army for the Liberation of Armenia “remains a prime suspect for the charge of KGB manipulation of international terror. But in this area, one researcher in the field advises, ‘You will never find the smoking gun’.”); Barron, KGB 151, 255-257 (1974); Barron,KGB Today: The Hidden Hand, 21-22, 255-256 (1983).
. Note, Terrorism as a Tort in Violation of the Law of Nations, 6 Fordham Int’l L.J. (1982).
. C. Sterling, The Terror Network (1981). Sterling repeatedly points out, and often criticizes, the reluctance of Western governments to openly detail the international cooperation that girds most terrorist activities. She writes:
No single motive could explain the iron restraint shown by Italy, West German, and all other threatened Western governments in the face of inexorably accumulating evi-dence____ Both, and all their democratic allies, also had compelling reasons of state to avoid a showdown with the Soviet Union. ... All were certainly appalled at the thought of tangling with Arab rulers____
[PJolitical considerations were almost certainly paramount for government leaders under seige who ... wouldn’t talk.
Id. at 291, 294. Whatever the merits of Sterling’s criticisms of this near uniform silence, the fact remains that our government, like those of its closest allies, is extremely wary of publicity in this area. Commenting on the refusal of Western governments to openly discuss the possibility of Soviet complicity in the attempt to assassinate Pope John Paul II, Congressman Ritter, a member of the bipartisan commission drawn from both the executive and legislative branches which is charged with monitoring compliance with the Helsinki Accords, commented that “[t]he involved governments have stayed away from this hot potato for a variety of reasons.” Implementation of the Helsinki Accords, Hearing Before the Commission on Security and Cooperation in Europe, The Assassination Attempt on Pope John Paul II, supra, at 16. Both Sterling’s book and the hearings in which Congressman Ritter participated are indispensable background reading for a court confronted with a question such as the one before us. These and other texts bring home the hopelessness of any attempt by an American court to trace a reliable path of responsibility for almost every terrorist outrage. These labyrinths of international intrigue will admit no judicial Theseus.
. See, e.g., Haig v. Agee, 453 U.S. 280, 292, 101 S.Ct. 2766, 2774, 69 L.Ed.2d 640 (1981) (“Matters intimately related to foreign policy are rarely proper subjects for judicial intervention.); Dames & Moore v. Regan, 453 U.S. 654, 101 S.Ct. 2972, 69 L.Ed.2d 918 (1981).
. I do not doubt for a moment the good intentions behind Judge Kauffman’s opinion in Filar-tiga. But the case appears to me to be fundamentally at odds with the reality of the international structure and with the role of United States courts within that structure. The refusal to separate rhetoric from reality is most obvious in the passage which states that “for the purposes of civil liability, the torturer has become — like the pirate and slave trader before him — hostis humani generis, an enemy of all mankind.” 630 F.2d at 890. This conclusion ignores the crucial distinction that the pirate and slave trader were men without nations, while the torturer (and terrorist) are frequently pawns, and well controlled ones, in international politics. When Judge Kauffman concluded that “[o]ur holding today, giving effect to a jurisdictional provision enacted by our First Congress, is a small but important step in the fulfillment of the ageless dream to free all people from brutal violence,” id., he failed to consider the possibility that ad hoc intervention by courts into international affairs may very well rebound to the decisive disadvantage of the nation. A plaintiffs individual victory, if it entails embarassing disclosures of this country’s approach to the control of the terrorist phenomenon, may in fact be the collective’s defeat. The political question doctrine is designed to prevent just this sort of judicial gambling, however apparently noble it may appear at first reading.