Bailouts, Borrowed Institutions, and Judicial Review: Ledra Advertising

Alicia Hinarejos, Downing College, University of Cambridge; author of The Euro Area Crisis in Constitutional Perspective 

One of the features of the response to the euro area crisis has been the resort to intergovernmental arrangements that largely avoid judicial and parliamentary control at the EU level. The paradigmatic example has been the European Stability Mechanism (ESM), created by the euro area countries in order to provide financial assistance to countries in difficulties, subject to conditionality. The ESM was created through the adoption of an international agreement, the ESM Treaty; it is an intergovernmental mechanism created outside the framework of the EU, but with significant links to it. Most importantly, the ESM ‘borrows’ two EU institutions, namely the Commission and the European Central Bank (ECB), in order to carry out its functions. (Those two bodies, along with the International Monetary Fund, constitute the so-called ‘Troika’ which oversees the controversial bail-out processes).

The nature of the ESM and the way it operates raises important questions regarding judicial protection. As mentioned above, ESM financial assistance is granted after strict conditions have been negotiated and agreed in a Memorandum of Understanding. These conditions typically require the Member State in receipt of assistance to adopt ‘austerity’ reforms that have an impact on its citizens—understandably, these citizens may wish to challenge the validity of these conditions, often questioning their compliance with the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights.

In Pringle, the Court stated that Member States were not within the scope of application of the Charter of Fundamental Rights when creating the ESM, or presumably when acting within its framework. This meant that their actions could not be reviewed for accordance with the Charter (although they can still be reviewed in national courts for compliance with purely national law, or in the European Court of Human Rights for compliance with that treaty). This, however, left open the question of whether, or in what form, the Charter applied to the EU institutions—the Commission and the ECB—when operating under the ESM. This is the question that the Court of Justice had to answer in the Cyprus bailout cases (Ledra Advertising and Mallis).

Cyprus wrote to the Eurogroup in 2012 to request financial assistance, and it was in receipt of ESM assistance from 2013 until 2016. The country had to recapitalize its biggest bank and wind down its second. The Memorandum of Understanding stipulated that bondholders and depositors would bear part of the cost. As a result, the applicants suffered substantial financial losses and turned to the EU courts: first to the General Court, and then on appeal to the Court of Justice. They were challenging the validity of the Memorandum of Understanding (Ledra Advertising), as well as a Eurogroup statement that referred to the conditions attached to the bailout (Mallis); they also asked for damages. In their view, the involvement of EU institutions—the Commission and the ECB—in the adoption of these measures meant that it should be possible for individuals to challenge their validity at the EU level; they also argued that these institutions’ involvement should trigger the EU’s non-contractual liability.

The General Court dismissed all complaints as inadmissible. It decided that neither the Memorandum of Understanding nor the Eurogroup statement could be the subject of an action for annulment; the former because it is not a measure adopted by an EU institution, the latter because it is not intended to produce legal effects with respect to third parties. It considered that the involvement of the Commission and the ECB in the adoption of these measures was not enough to attribute authorship to them, or to trigger the non-contractual liability of the Union.

The Court of Justice agreed, in part, with the General Court: neither the Eurogroup statement (Mallis) nor the Memorandum of Understanding (Ledra Advertising) can be the object of an action for annulment. The Court insisted again on its finding in Pringle that ESM acts fall outside the scope of EU law; the involvement of the Commission and the ECB does not change this, and is not enough to attribute authorship of these acts to them for the purposes of judicial review.

Yet the Court goes on to reveal a twist in Ledra Advertising: even if they are not its authors, the involvement of the Commission and the ECB in the adoption of an ESM Memorandum of Understanding may be unlawful, and thus able to trigger the non-contractual (damages) liability of the EU. The Commission, in particular, retains its role as ‘guardian of the Treaties’ when acting within the ESM framework. As a result, the Commission should not sign an ESM act if it has any suspicions as to its accordance with EU law, including the Charter.

The Court repeated the usual rules for the EU institutions to incur non-contractual liability: (a) they must have acted unlawfully, (b) damage must have occurred, and (c) there must be a causal link between the unlawful act and the damage. Not just any unlawful act gives rise to damages liability: there must be ‘a sufficiently serious breach of a rule of law intended to confer rights on individuals’. While the right to property enshrined in the Charter was a ‘rule of law intended to confer rights on individuals’, that right is not absolute: Article 52 of the Charter allows interference with some Charter rights. Applying that provision, the Court came to the conclusion that the measures contained in the Memorandum did not constitute a disproportionate and intolerable interference with the substance of the applicants’ right to property, given ‘the objective of ensuring the stability of the banking system in the euro area, and having regard to the imminent risk of [greater] financial losses’.

So individuals can challenge the EU institutions’ bailout actions by means of an action for damages (non-contractual liability), but not by means of an annulment action. It is useful to remember that the rules on access to the EU courts as regards those two types of remedy are quite different. The standing rules are more liberal for damages actions: it’s sufficient to allege that damages have been suffered as a result of an unlawful act by the EU, whereas it’s much harder to obtain standing to bring annulment actions. The time limits are more liberal too: individuals have five years to bring damages cases, but only two months to bring actions for annulment. On the other hand, the threshold to win cases is much higher for damages cases: any unlawfulness by the EU institutions leads to annulment of their actions, but only particularly serious illegality gives rise to damages liability.

In any case, we know from the Court’s ruling that breaches of at least some Charter provisions within the ESM framework could potentially give rise to damages liability. In the anti-austerity context, it should be noted that social security and many social welfare claims fall within the scope of the right to property, according to the case law of the European Court of Human Rights. In the case at stake, the Court did not discuss the proportionality of the interference with the applicant’s rights at much—or any—length, but it is clear that future applicants will face an uphill struggle.

On the whole, Ledra Advertising is a welcome change from other cases concerning measures adopted as a result of a bailout, where the Court’s approach had been to deny the existence of any link to EU law. Indeed, it seems unavoidable that the EU should bear the appropriate degree of responsibility when allowing its EU institutions to operate within the ESM framework. This is not to say that it will be easy for individuals to be awarded damages; as this case illustrates, the threshold is extremely high. Moreover, while a significant aspect of the role of the EU institutions within the ESM has been clarified, questions remain concerning the judicial and democratic accountability of this mechanism. Overall, however, Ledra Advertising is a step in the right direction.

Barnard and Peers: chapter 19, chapter 8

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The Fake Client: The case that bamboozled the CJEU

Steve Peers

A plucky young lawyer, fighting impossible odds. A big corporation, shamelessly manipulating the system. A vulnerable client, screwed by that same corporation. A slick corporate law firm, smugly carrying out that company’s instructions. And a quirky judge, trying to his or her best to keep order in the courtroom regardless of any shenanigans.

For over twenty years, these have been the core elements of many of John Grisham’s best-selling novels. His characters rarely leave the Southern United States – unless the plot demands a quick, sleazy journey to a Caribbean island. Could they be transplanted to Europe?

Grisham’s book Playing for Pizza is indeed set in Europe. But it’s a sports story, about a disgraced American footballer eating his way through Italy. Instead, we have the recent real life case of ‘Chain’, documented by Irish journalists Liam O’Brien and Frank Shouldice (radio version here; online story here). It contains many of the key elements of a Grisham page-turner – but with some twists worthy of his best books. (Please note that some of the allegations in their story have been disputed).

The story begins with Mr Bogdan Chain, our vulnerable client. In 2009, he began several years’ work for Atlanco Ltd, a Cypriot subsidiary of an Irish recruitment company, Atlanco Rimec – our big corporation. He was posted to several EU countries, as well as Norway, outside the EU but applying EU free movement laws. Working in different EU countries is liable to create complications from the point of view of social security, and there is complex EU legislation intended to address this issue. But it did not apply as intended in Mr. Chain’s case.

His troubles began when the Norwegian government pursued him for unpaid contributions, even though his payslips indicated that those contributions had been deducted from his pay. Then they got worse: he had a heart attack, and became unable to work. He applied to the Polish government for disability pay, which he believed he had qualified for based on his contributions. But like the Norwegians, the Polish authorities said he hadn’t made sufficient contributions – and so denied him benefits.  

So did Mr. Chain go to court to challenge this? Well, he did – and he didn’t. The real Mr. Chain insists that he did not go to court. But a lawsuit against Atlanco Ltd was nonetheless instigated in his name, without his consent or knowledge. Would the case have benefited him, if he had “won” it? It’s hard to know, but in any event it’s not appropriate to bring cases without the “plaintiff’s” consent.

The so-called “Chain” case, concerning the period he worked in Romania, went first to the Cypriot courts, and was then referred to the CJEU. According to the press story, this case was indirectly related to another case then pending in Cyprus, in which Atlanco sued the Cypriot government to let it pay social insurance for its staff in Cyprus, rather than in other EU countries. Companies would prefer to pay social insurance in Cyprus because rates are low. But as a consequence, the contributions into the social security systems in other Member States are reduced; and there’s a risk (manifest in this case) that as a result of such disputes, a company’s employees end up on the hook for contributions which they thought they had made, and are denied benefits which they thought they were entitled to, just when they need them most.  

We don’t have any plucky lawyers in this case, since (according to the press story), documents disclosed to a criminal investigation in Cyprus show that the same law firm was linked to both sides of the “Chain v Atlanco” case (acting for the corporate parent; that law firm denies this). But we do have plucky journalists: O’Brien and Shouldice, who came across the real Mr. Chain when researching the fake case.

That was the first Mr. Chain knew of the case brought in his name. He then informed the CJEU that he had not authorised that legal action. But the quirky judges in the Court went ahead and held a hearing anyway. There was even an Advocate-General’s opinion. By that point, however, the Cypriot authorities, after Mr. Chain had contacted them, had ensured that the case was withdrawn back in Cyprus, and therefore the CJEU too.

Recent Grisham novels have ended ambiguously, with key plot points not resolved. As things stand, that’s the case here too. According to the press story, the Atlanco group of companies has gone bust; the Irish founder of the parent company is counting his money; and the Cypriot government has opened a criminal investigation. To my knowledge, the Belgian authorities have not asked the law firm to clarify its position. And Mr. Chain still has no disability benefits.

Comments

First of all, congratulations to the journalists in this case, for an excellent work of investigative journalism. It’s fortunate that due to their efforts, the dubious nature of these proceedings came to light before the CJEU could give a judgment. But how did this case get so far in the first place?  

My main focus here is the position of the Court of Justice. Was its behaviour in this case appropriate? (I should note that the Court appears to have issued no formal statement. I have asked the press office if it will do so, along with some detailed questions, but so far have had no reply. Suffice it to say that I think it’s a mistake for the Court not to comment when serious questions are raised about the conduct of its proceedings).

In my view, the Court can’t be expected to systematically check the bona fides of the parties in each case referred from national courts. The Court does not have the institutional capacity to do this, and any move to change that would subvert the nature of the preliminary ruling system, which is essentially a national procedure which is temporarily interrupted to ask the CJEU some EU law questions.  It’s the national court’s job to check that proceedings are genuine, and should remain so. Here there was obviously a slip-up in allowing the case to proceed in Cyprus, although it was corrected once the alleged impersonation came to light.

According to the journalists (in private correspondence), the CJEU and the national court had no knowledge of the documents suggesting links between the “opposing” parties in this case, until the criminal proceedings were opened recently. So neither court can be criticised on that score. But should the Court have terminated proceedings once Mr. Chain told them that he didn’t authorise the case to be brought in his name?

In my view, no, for two reasons. First of all, again we have to recall the nature of these proceedings. It’s for the national court to determine whether a case is admissible before it. Mr. Chain was effectively alleging a flaw in the national proceedings, and so the Court was right to refer him to bring a complaint at the national level instead. (The EuObserver story doesn’t mention that the Court suggested he do this, but the journalists have confirmed in private correspondence that it did). 

Secondly, withdrawing the case straight away on the basis of Mr. Chain’s letter would give rise to another type of impersonation risk. To see what I mean by this, take a look at the Philip Morris case pending before the CJEU, in which the big cigarette company is challenging EU legislation on cigarette packaging and composition. An Advocate-General’s opinion in this case is due tomorrow.

It probably wouldn’t take much effort for me to find out the names of the lawyers representing Philip Morris, and to mock up some fake letterhead with a bogus signature at the bottom informing the Court of Justice that “my” client is no longer interested in pursuing this case. Someone might even have tried a stunt like this before. In light of this, it’s quite understandable that the Court would not simply dismiss the case, but wait to hear what the national court had to say.

So was the Court’s response flawless? Not at all. Mr. Chain is clearly not a huge international corporation, with the resources to pay slick corporate law firms who are fully aware of the nuances of the EU judicial system. It’s understandable that he went to the CJEU since the case had been lodged there, and was confused about how to proceed when it referred him to the national court. Keep in mind that this case was not even brought in his own legal system.

Therefore, while the CJEU should not have withdrawn the case immediately after hearing from Mr. Chain, it could have done more than just refer him to the national court. In particular, it should have told the representatives of the parties of his allegations and asked them to comment. Perhaps one or both parties would then have run for the hills, and the Court could have drawn the obvious conclusions from that. The Court of Justice should also have informed the national court of the allegations, since (as I have said already) that court was best placed to examine them, while Mr. Chain was not well placed to contact that court himself. As far as I know, it didn’t do this (this is one of the questions I asked the Court to answer).

Instead, the Court of Justice ploughed full speed ahead with a bogus case, embarrassing itself and wasting time and money. Some might even have darker suspicions about the Court’s integrity. For those reasons, the Court should swiftly issue a public admission and apology, and make the simple reforms I have suggested above.

Unlike the journalists who uncovered this fake case, I wouldn’t say that the Court was ‘complicit’ in this dubious litigation. But I believe the word ‘complacent’ is richly deserved. The EU’s citizens rightly expect better from the Court.

Barnard & Peers: chapter 10

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