Expelling EU citizen war criminals: no sympathy from the ECJ

Professor Steve Peers, University of Essex

If an EU citizen (or his or her family member) has been excluded from being a refugee, in what circumstances can he or she be expelled from a Member State? The ECJ clarified this issue in its K and HF judgment last week: its first ruling that touches on the relationship between EU (and international) refugee law and EU free movement law.

There’s a good reason why these two areas of law haven’t interacted previously in the Court’s case law: EU law itself tries to keep them apart. A Protocol attached to the EU Treaties, aiming to facilitate the extradition of alleged terrorists between Member States, says that in principle EU citizens cannot apply for asylum in another Member State, due to the presumption in that Protocol that each Member State ensures sufficient human rights protection.

However, there are exceptions to that general rule, and there are people it doesn’t cover. The exceptions in the Protocol are: a) the asylum seeker’s Member State of nationality invokes the “emergency” derogation from parts of the European Convention of Human Rights (ECHR); b) if the EU Council is considering whether to sanction the asylum seeker’s Member State of nationality for breaches of EU values; c) if the EU has already sanctioned the asylum seeker’s Member State of nationality for breaches of EU values; or d) if a Member State decides to do so unilaterally for another Member State’s national, in which case it must inform the EU Council and presume that the application is manifestly unfounded, without prejudice to the final decision on the application.

The people not covered by the Protocol include: EU citizens who obtained refugee status before they became EU citizens (for instance, because their State of nationality joined the EU); non-EU family members of EU citizens; those who apply for or obtain subsidiary protection status, as distinct from refugee status; and the citizens of some non-EU countries associated with the EU (Norway, Iceland, Switzerland and Liechtenstein), who have free movement rights but are not EU citizens. The recent ECJ ruling concerned people from the first two of these categories.

Exclusion from being a refugee

Some asylum seekers fail to satisfy the authorities that they meet the definition of “refugee” set out in the UN (Geneva) Refugee Convention. Quite apart from that, some asylum seekers are excluded from being a refugee under that Convention (and under the corresponding provisions of the EU’s qualification Directive), because their behaviour is considered so reprehensible that they do not deserve fully-fledged international protection, even if they are facing persecution on one of the grounds set out in the Convention. More precisely, Article 1.F of the Convention excludes:

any person with respect to whom there are serious reasons for considering that:

(a) he has committed a crime against peace, a war crime, or a crime against humanity, as defined in the international instruments drawn up to make provision in respect of such crimes;

(b) he has committed a serious non-political crime outside the country of refuge prior to his admission to that country as a refugee;

(c) he has been guilty of acts contrary to the purposes and principles of the United Nations.

The ECJ has interpreted the exclusion clause in the EU qualification Directive in its judgments in B and D and Lounani (discussed here), ruling inter alia that the second and third exclusion clauses can apply to terrorist offences, although exclusion must be assessed in each individual case, meaning that membership of a group listed as “terrorist” in EU foreign policy sanctions against terrorists does not automatically trigger the exclusion clause. Similarly, participating in a terrorist group, as defined by EU criminal law on terrorism, does not automatically trigger the exclusion clause either. Instead, there must be direct involvement by the person concerned in such offences, as further explained by the Court. Furthermore, there is no additional “proportionality” or “present danger” test for exclusion, and the exclusion clause is mandatory: ie Member States cannot assert a right to apply higher standards and give someone refugee status if they fall within the exclusion criteria. Finally, assisting with recruitment, organisation or transport of “foreign fighters” can also lead to exclusion, as it constitutes a form of “participation” in the terrorist acts covered by the exclusion clause.

However, it should be noted that even if a person is excluded from being a refugee, they are still protected against being removed to a country where they would face a real risk of torture or other inhuman or degrading treatment, according to the case law on Article 3 ECHR and the corresponding Article 4 of the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights. The ECJ reaffirmed as much recently in its judgment in MP (discussed here). But this non-removal obligation falls short of refugee status (which usually follows from recognition as a refugee) because it does not entail a fully-fledged immigration status including rights like access to employment and benefits.

Expelling EU citizens and their family members

The grounds for restricting free movement rights for reasons of “public policy or public security” are set out in the EU citizens’ Directive. The basic rule is that restrictions “shall comply with the principle of proportionality and shall be based exclusively on the personal conduct of the individual concerned. Previous criminal convictions shall not in themselves constitute grounds for taking such measures.” Furthermore, “[t]he personal conduct of the individual concerned must represent a genuine, present and sufficiently serious threat affecting one of the fundamental interests of society.”

Before expelling a person covered by the Directive on such grounds, Member States are obliged to “take account of considerations such as how long the individual concerned has resided on its territory, his/her age, state of health, family and economic situation, social and cultural integration into the host Member State and the extent of his/her links with the country of origin.” For those with permanent residence, there is a higher threshold to justify expulsion: “serious grounds of public policy or public security”. And for those who have resided in that Member State for the previous ten years, or who are minors, the threshold for expulsion is higher still: “imperative grounds of public security”.

The judgment

The Court’s judgment brought together two separate cases. In the first case, K, a dual citizen of Croatia and Bosnia-Herzegovina, had arrived in the Netherlands and applied for asylum in 2001 and 2011. Both applications were rejected. Subsequently, after Croatia joined the EU in 2013, the applicant was declared (in light of his EU citizenship) to be an “undesirable immigrant”, in light of the prior finding that he knew about and participated in war crimes and crimes against humanity in the Bosnian army. Since over twenty years had passed since that time, the issue was whether such conduct was a “genuine, present and sufficiently serious threat affecting one of the fundamental interests of society” within the meaning of the EU citizens’ Directive, taking account of the other factors referred to in the Directive.

In the second case, HF, an Afghan citizen excluded from being a refugee in the Netherlands, applied for a residence card in Belgium as the family member of an EU citizen (his Dutch daughter). His application was refused on the basis that the information about his exclusion, which the Dutch authorities had shared with their Belgian counterparts, showed that he could be denied free movement rights.

The Court first examined whether exclusion from being a refugee necessarily met the standard for restriction of free movement rights. It recalled its prior case law, holding that “public security” could include both internal security (including “a direct threat to the peace of mind and physical security of the population of the Member State concerned”) and external security (including “the risk of a serious disturbance to the foreign relations of that Member State or to the peaceful coexistence of nations”). Applying these principles to the facts, the Court accepted that Member States could consider that damage to international relations, the risk of contacting EU citizens who had been victims of war crimes could be considered threats to public policy and public security. Restricting those persons’ free movement rights could also contribute to ensuring “protection of the fundamental values of society in a Member State and of the international legal order and to maintaining social cohesion, public confidence in the justice and immigration systems of the Member States and the credibility of their commitment to protect the fundamental values enshrined in Articles 2 and 3 TEU”.  The Court added that the acts and crimes which led to exclusion from being a refugee “seriously undermine both fundamental values such as respect for human dignity and human rights, on which, as stated in Article 2 TEU, the European Union is founded, and the peace which it is the Union’s aim to promote, under Article 3 TEU”.

Nevertheless, the Court ruled that exclusion from being a refugee should not always lead to restriction on free movement rights. There must still be a “case-by-case assessment” which shows that “the personal conduct of the individual concerned currently constitutes a genuine and sufficiently serious threat to a fundamental interest of society”. This assessment must “take into account the findings of fact made in the decision of exclusion from refugee status taken with respect to the individual concerned and the factors on which that decision was based, in particular the nature and gravity of the crimes or acts that that individual is alleged to have committed, the degree of his individual involvement in them and the possible existence of grounds for excluding criminal liability such as duress or self-defence.” Furthermore, that examination “is all the more necessary” if, such as in these cases, “the person concerned has not been convicted of the crimes or acts that were relied on to justify the rejection, in the past, of his asylum application”.

The Court showed willingness to relax its usual insistence of looking closely at the EU citizen’s present threat, noting that in some cases “it is also possible that past conduct alone may constitute such a threat to the requirements of public policy”. In the case of war crimes, although “the time that has elapsed since the assumed commission of those acts is, indeed, a relevant factor….the possible exceptional gravity of the acts in question may be such as to require, even after a relatively long period of time, that the genuine, present and sufficiently serious threat affecting one of the fundamental interests of society be classified as persistent”. Equally, the Court de-emphasised the requirement that the person concerned was likely to reoffend, ruling that:

…however improbable it may appear that such crimes or acts may recur outside their specific historical and social context, conduct of the individual concerned that shows the persistence in him of a disposition hostile to the fundamental values enshrined in Articles 2 and 3 TEU, such as human dignity and human rights, as revealed by those crimes or those acts, is, for its part, capable of constituting a genuine, present and sufficiently serious threat affecting one of the fundamental interests of society...

Yet the person’s rights to private and family life and the principle of proportionality still had to be weighed against such threats.

Next, the Court reiterated that an expulsion decision has to consider “with due regard to the principle of proportionality…inter alia, the nature and gravity of the alleged conduct of the individual concerned, the duration and, when appropriate, the legality of his residence in the host Member State, the period of time that has elapsed since that conduct, the individual’s behaviour during that period, the extent to which he currently poses a danger to society, and the solidity of social, cultural and family links with the host Member State.”

Yet the lengthy period of time spent on the territory in the Dutch case was not enough to qualify for the especially high level of protection against expulsion for EU citizens resident for ten years (“imperative grounds of public security”). For as the Court had recently ruled in B and Vomero, such special status was only attainable if the person concerned had already qualified for permanent residence (based on five years’ legal residence); and residence on national law grounds other than those set out in the citizens’ Directive or its predecessor laws did not count to that end (see Ziolkowski). It appeared that K could not show residence on an EU law basis, but only a national law basis, and therefore was not going to qualify for any extra degree of protection against expulsion.

Comments

The Court’s judgment is focussed on those excluded from refugee status on the basis of Article 1.F of the Refugee Convention. The wording of the ruling does not confine itself to the “war criminal” ground of exclusion, and so it applies to persons excluded from being a refugee on any of the Article 1.F grounds. It should logically be relevant if any EU law issues are raised about handing over any person to the International Criminal Court, or any ad hoc UN criminal tribunal, for prosecution for war crimes et al. But does it have any broader application?

First of all, it definitely applies to those who might apply for refugee status on what might be called the “Palestinian track” set out in Article 1.D of the Convention, since the general rules on exclusion also apply to such cases: see the ECJ’s El Kott judgment (para 76).

Secondly, it is questionable whether it applies to all cases of exclusion from subsidiary protection status, given that such exclusion is also possible for less serious behaviour than as regards refugee recognition. In particular, the qualification Directive allows for exclusion from subsidiary protection status on grounds of a “serious crime”, or in fact any crime which would be punishable by imprisonment in the Member State concerned.

Thirdly, it may be arguable whether the judgment is relevant by analogy to revoking refugee status due to criminal behaviour or a security risk (relevant in pending ECJ cases, discussed here), or to refusing a residence permit or travel document on national security or public order grounds, where the ECJ has ruled that a lower threshold applies (see the ruling in HT, discussed here).

Next, the judgment might be relevant to cases where a Member State seeks to revoke its nationality (and therefore EU citizenship) from a person, for instance due to their activities as a “foreign fighter”. (On the reviewability of such decisions as a matter of EU law, see Rottmann and the pending case of Tjebbes).

Could the judgment even be relevant by analogy to “ordinary” EU citizens, where there is no link to refugee law issues? At first sight no, because the Court’s focus is on the Refugee Convention’s exclusion clause. However, its willingness to consider that especially vile prior behaviour can outweigh an assessment of present threat and likely future conduct could arguably be relevant where an EU citizen has been convicted of crimes such as child abuse, rape, murder, or terrorism.

The judgment continues the Court’s established trend of disdain for criminality by EU citizens or their family members. In this case, its concern for crime victims is particularly striking; but here it strikes a discordant note in referring only to the victims of war criminals who are EU criminals living in EU Member States. For this overlooks the likely existence also of non-EU victims, both those who sought protection in a Member State and those in the war criminal’s state of origin, if he or she is referred there. Or rather, the surviving victims: the returning war criminals will likely cast a long shadow over the graves of those whom they murdered.

Barnard & Peers: chapter 26

JHA4: chapter I:5

Photo credit: Human Rights Watch

Torture victims and EU law

Professor Steve Peers, University of Essex

What happens if an asylum seeker faces severe mental health problems that cannot be treated in the country of origin?  Today’s judgment of the ECJ in the MP case, following a reference from the UK Supreme Court, goes some way towards answering this question.

Background

The issue what we might call “medical cases” for asylum first of all arose before the European Court of Human Rights. In a series of judgments, that Court clarified whether the ban on torture or inhuman or degrading treatment, set out in Article 3 of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR), prevented people from being sent back to a country where there was no effective medical care.  Essentially, it ruled that such an argument could only be successful in highly exceptional cases, in particular where the person concerned was critically ill and close to death.

However, while these judgments addressed the question of non-removal for persons in such serious conditions, they did not rule on the issue of the status of asylum, or other types of migration status, for the persons concerned. This issue was the subject of two linked ECJ judgments (M’Bodj and Abdida) in 2014, which I discussed here. In short, the ECJ said that the persons suffering from severe health problems could not invoke a right to “subsidiary protection” on the basis of the EU’s qualification Directive, even though one of the grounds for such protection was facing a “real risk” of torture or inhuman or degrading treatment in the country of origin. That was because subsidiary protection was only intended for cases where the harm was directly caused by humans.

So do “medical cases” only have the right to non-removal on the basis of Article 3 ECHR? Not quite; because the ECJ also said that the EU’s Returns Directive, which governs the position of irregular migrants, could be relevant. In an ambitious interpretation of that Directive, the Court ruled that it could be invoked to prevent removals in “medical cases”, including the suspensive effect of an appeal against removal; moreover the Directive conferred a right to medical care and social assistance for the persons concerned in such cases.

Subsequently, at the end of 2016, the European Court of Human Rights revisited its case law on “medical cases”, lowering the very high threshold that had previously applied before individuals could invoke Article 3 ECHR.  In Paposhvili v Belgium (discussed here), it extended that case law also to cover cases of:

removal of a seriously ill person in which substantial grounds have been shown for believing that he or she, although not at imminent risk of dying, would face a real risk, on account of the absence of appropriate treatment in the receiving country or the lack of access to such treatment, of being exposed to a serious, rapid and irreversible decline in his or her state of health resulting in intense suffering or to a significant reduction in life expectancy.

It should be noted that while the “first phase” EU qualification Directive (which includes the same definition of “subsidiary protection” as the 2011 version) applies to the UK and Ireland, the Returns Directive does not.  

Judgment

The ECJ began by stating that in order to invoke a claim to subsidiary protection on grounds of torture, it was necessary to show that such treatment would occur in the country of origin in future. While MP had suffered torture in Sri Lanka in the past, that was “not in itself sufficient justification for him to be eligible for subsidiary protection when there is no longer a real risk that such torture will be repeated if he is returned to that country”. Although the qualification Directive states that past serious harm “is a serious indication” there is a real risk of suffering such harm in future, “that does not apply where there are good reasons for believing that the serious harm previously suffered will not be repeated or continue”.

The Court then turned to MP’s health issues, noting that he “presently continues to suffer severe psychological after-effects resulting from the torture” and that “according to duly substantiated medical evidence, those after-effects would be substantially aggravated and lead to a serious risk of him committing suicide if he were returned to his country of origin”. It stated that this provision of the qualification Directive “must be interpreted and applied” consistently with Article 4 of the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights, which set out an “absolute” right to be free from torture or other inhuman or degrading treatment. This Charter right corresponded to Article 3 ECHR, so “the meaning and scope of the rights are the same”, as set out in Article 52(3) of the Charter.  So the ECJ followed the case law of the ECtHR on Article 3 ECHR, referring specifically to the revised test on “medical cases” set out in Paposhvili, and adding that when applying Article 4 of the Charter, “particular attention must be paid to the specific vulnerabilities of persons whose psychological suffering, which is likely to be exacerbated in the event of their removal, is a consequence of torture or inhuman or degrading treatment in their country of origin”.

It followed that the Charter, interpreted in light of the ECHR, “preclude[s] a Member State from expelling a third country national where such expulsion would, in essence, result in significant and permanent deterioration of that person’s mental health disorders, particularly where, as in the present case, such deterioration would endanger his life.” It also recalled its previous ruling on “medical cases” and the Returns Directive.

But since the courts in the UK had already ruled out MP’s removal, the non-removal point was not relevant. Rather the issue was whether MP is entitled to subsidiary protection. Here the ECJ recalled its prior ruling that “medical cases” were not normally entitled to subsidiary protection, but noted that M’Bodj concerned a victim of assault in the host Member State, whereas MP was tortured in the country of origin and the after-effects would be exacerbated in the event of return. Both of these factors are relevant when interpreting the qualification Directive; but “such substantial aggravation cannot, in itself, be regarded as inhuman or degrading treatment inflicted on that third country national in his country of origin, within the meaning of” the Directive.

What about the lack of medical care for after-effects of torture in the country of origin? The Court reiterated its position that a right to subsidiary protection “cannot simply be the result of general shortcomings in the health system of the country of origin”, and that “deterioration in the health of a third country national who is suffering from a serious illness, as a result of there being no appropriate treatment in his country of origin, is not sufficient, unless that third country national is intentionally deprived of health care, to warrant that person being granted subsidiary protection”.

But on this point, it was crucial that this was not an “ordinary” example of a “medical case”, but one deriving from torture. The preamble to the qualification refers to taking into account international human rights law considering the subsidiary protection definition; and so the ECJ interpreted the UN Convention Against Torture (UNCAT) for the first time in its case law. In particular, the Court examined Article 14 of that Convention, which gives torture victims a right to redress and rehabilitation.

Overall, the Court insisted on a separation between UNCAT and refugee law, by analogy with the distinction between refugee law and the international law of armed conflict (the Geneva Conventions) which it had previously insisted upon in its judgment in Diakité. This was because the UNCAT system and refugee law pursue different purposes. So it followed that:

…it is not possible, without disregarding the distinct areas covered by those two regimes, for a third country national in a situation such as that of MP to be eligible for subsidiary protection as a result of every violation, by his State of origin, of Article 14 of the Convention against Torture.

So not every violation of Article 14 of UNCAT leads to subsidiary protection. But that implies that some violations do. The Court went on to clarify:

It is therefore for the national court to ascertain, in the light of all current and relevant information, in particular reports by international organisations and non-governmental human rights organisations, whether, in the present case, MP is likely, if returned to his country of origin, to face a risk of being intentionally deprived of appropriate care for the physical and mental after-effects resulting from the torture he was subjected to by the authorities of that country. That will be the case, inter alia, if, in circumstances where, as in the main proceedings, a third country national is at risk of committing suicide because of the trauma resulting from the torture he was subjected to by the authorities of his country of origin, it is clear that those authorities, notwithstanding their obligation under Article 14 of the Convention against Torture, are not prepared to provide for his rehabilitation. There will also be such a risk if it is apparent that the authorities of that country have adopted a discriminatory policy as regards access to health care, thus making it more difficult for certain ethnic groups or certain groups of individuals, of which MP forms part, to obtain access to appropriate care for the physical and mental after-effects of the torture perpetrated by those authorities.

So there are two cases where subsidiary protection would apply, due to intentional deprivation of care: the authorities are “not prepared” to fulfil their UNCAT obligations of rehabilitation to a person at risk of suicide following from torture suffered in that country; or there is discriminatory policy “making it more difficult” for certain groups to obtain such treatment. These criteria are non-exhaustive (“inter alia”). The evidence to be considered to this end is “all current and relevant information, in particular reports by international organisations and non-governmental human rights organisations”. Again, the sources of evidence are non-exhaustive (“in particular”).

Comments

At first sight, the Court’s judgment sticks to the framework developed in its prior case law: there is no right to subsidiary protection in “medical cases”, except where care is deliberately refused. But look closely, and it’s clear that the Court has developed that case law in important ways in today’s judgment.

First of all, the definition of “medical cases” is now wider, since the Court explicitly adopts the revised interpretation of Article 3 ECHR from recent ECtHR case law. Secondly, in torture cases, the Court has elaborated what factors to consider to determine if inadequate health care would be intentionally withheld in the country of origin. If the asylum seeker is suicidal due to the after-effects of torture carried out in that country, then if that country is either “not prepared” to fulfil UNCAT obligations of rehabilitation to such persons or has a discriminatory policy “making it more difficult” for certain groups to obtain care would amount to an “intentional” deprivation of health care, there is a right to subsidiary protection. The first of these grounds is unique to torture victims, but the second ground should arguably be relevant to any “medical cases”.

Thirdly, the Court has fleshed out the back-up obligation of non-removal for “medical cases” even in the event that subsidiary protection is not granted, insisting that it is an EU law obligation based on the Charter, alongside its prior ruling that the Returns Directive rules it out. This is particularly relevant for the UK and Ireland, given that they are not covered by the Returns Directive. In fact it is not obvious at first sight how EU law – and therefore the Charter – applies in those countries to such cases, if the persons concerned have no right to subsidiary protection. Arguably the link to the grounds for subsidiary protection set out in the qualification Directive is sufficient; but the Court should have spelled this out.

In the Member States bound by the Returns Directive, the finding that the Charter applies to prevent such removal simplifies the process of guaranteeing the non-removal of “medical cases”. Furthermore, it should be recalled that the case law on that Directive guarantees health care and medical assistance.

Overall, then, today’s judgment has gone some way to ensuring greater protection, where necessary, for the most vulnerable migrants: torture victims and the terminally ill.

Barnard & Peers: chapter 9, chapter 26

JHA4: chapters I:5, I:7

Photo credit: The Guardian Nigeria

Childhood’s End? The Court of Justice upholds unaccompanied child refugees’ right to family reunion

Professor Steve Peers, University of Essex

Turning 18 is a big moment in any young person’s life. Although it rarely entails, by itself, an immediate change in their social and economic links with their parents, it is widely recognised as a significant rite of legal passage, marking as it does the official date of becoming an adult.

But what if the main legal impact of turning 18 is not the enhancement of a young person’s legal rights, but rather their deterioration? That is often the scenario in immigration or asylum law, in particular for those who need protection the most: unaccompanied minors. Since immigration and asylum procedures often take some time, the question then arises what happens if applicants are underage when a process began, but become an adult before it finishes. Do they retain throughout that process the special legal protection accorded to children? At what point exactly does that special legal status end?

That was the issue in yesterday’s judgment in A and S, which was the first time the Court of Justice has ruled on the family reunion rights of child refugees. The judgment concerns the EU’s family reunion Directive, which contains special rules for the family reunion of refugees in general, and unaccompanied minor refugees in particular.  However, it is possible that it has an impact on the status of young people in EU immigration and asylum law more generally.

The basic EU rules on family reunion

The EU’s family reunion Directive sets minimum standards, so states can be more generous if they wish. It mainly concerns reunion of spouses and minor children with a non-EU sponsor; admission of further family members is optional in most cases. It does not apply to the UK, Ireland and Denmark. However, it will apply to family reunion of UK citizens in the EU (besides those living in Ireland and Denmark) after the post-Brexit transition period, when the UK is no longer covered by EU free movement law, unless (a) they are covered by the withdrawal agreement (see discussion here), or (b) the EU (or, if legally possible, individual Member States) and the UK agree special rules on post-Brexit family migration.

The standard rules in the Directive require that: the sponsor has a residence permit valid for at least one year, and has “reasonable prospects” of obtaining permanent residence; the family members must reside outside the territory when the application is made (although Member States can derogate from that rule); “public policy, public security or public health” are grounds for rejection; conditions relating to accommodation, sickness insurance and “stable and regular resources” may be imposed; Member States may require “integration measures”; and there can be a waiting period of two years of lawful stay of the sponsor before family reunion takes place.

There are also exclusions from the scope of the Directive. It does not apply at all to: asylum seekers; persons with temporary protection; persons with subsidiary protection on the basis of national or international law; and family members of EU citizens (whether they have moved within the EU or not). Implicitly it does not apply to irregular migrants, since by definition they do not have a residence permit with the prospect of long-term residence, until and unless Member States decide to regularise their status.   

Member States can set lower standards than the Directive, where it allows for such derogations, although this is subject to detailed conditions. These derogations exist as regards: children over 12, who arrive separately from the rest of the family; minimum ages for the sponsor or spouse; children over 15; and a waiting period of three years.

The Court of Justice has ruled on the Directive several times, as regards: its validity in light of human rights concerns (EP v Council); its application to dual EU/non-EU citizens (O and S) the sufficient resources condition (Chakroun and Khachab); the minimum age of spouses (Noorzia, discussed here); and the integration conditions (K and A, discussed here). Pending cases concern: the application of the Directive by analogy to family reunion with “home State” EU citizens (C and A) and persons with subsidiary protection (K and B and E); the rejection of a separate residence permit due to failure to comply with integration conditions (K); and loss of a residence permit due to fraud which the family member was unaware of (YZ and others).

As well as the special rules for refugee family reunion set out in the original Directive, subsequent EU legislation contains more favourable rules for the family reunion of other groups of non-EU citizens: holders of an EU Blue Card for highly-skilled workers (discussed here); intra-corporate transferees (discussed here); and researchers (discussed here). The proposal to amend the Blue Card law (discussed here) would enhance these rules further. Yesterday’s judgment is the first time the ECJ has interpreted any of these special rules.

Exceptions for refugees

The special rules apply to a refugee who has been “recognised” by a Member State, meaning that their asylum application for refugee status in that State was successful. A “refugee” is defined not by reference to EU law, but to international law – the UN (Geneva) Convention on the Status of Refugees and its protocol – since the Directive was adopted before the EU adopted its own asylum laws. Member States. Member States may limit the special rules to family relationships which predate entry to the Member State.

These rules waive a number of conditions for family reunion: the optional derogation for those over 12; the conditions relating to accommodation, sickness insurance and “stable and regular resources” (although Member States can apply those conditions if the sponsor or family members have “special links” with a non-EU country, or if the application was submitted more than three months after refugee status was granted); and the waiting period. The rules on evidence of family relationships are also relaxed, in the event that documentary evidence is unavailable. Finally, the optional “integration measures” requirement can only be applied after family reunion, whether the family relationship existed before entry or not. 

Conversely, other conditions still apply: the requirement of a residence permit valid for at least one year, with “reasonable prospects” of obtaining permanent residence; residence outside the territory when the application is made; and “public policy, public security or public health”. Satisfying the first of these criteria is made easier by EU law, since the Qualification Directive requires refugees, once their status is recognised, to receive a residence permit valid for at least three years, and refugees can qualify for EU long-term residence status under the relevant Directive.

Most importantly for our case, the refugee rules make the admission of the parents of unaccompanied minor refugees mandatory, rather than optional; and they waive the conditions that otherwise apply to the admission of migrants’ parents (they must be “dependent” on the sponsor and they “do not enjoy proper family support in the country of origin”).

The judgment

The A and S case concerns a young Eritrean woman who arrived in the Netherlands and made an asylum application just before turning 18. Her application was successful after her birthday, and a NGO shortly afterward applied on her behalf for admission of her parents and siblings on the basis of the special rules in the family reunion Directive.  But could she rely on the special rules at all – given that she was over 18 when the application for family reunion was made, and indeed when her refugee status was recognised?

The Dutch government argued that the relevant date when a person must be considered a minor should be determined by national law, while the Commission argued for the date of the application for family reunion, and the Polish government argued for the date of the decision on the family reunion application. The applicants (the young woman’s parents) argued for the date of her initial entry onto the territory. No one argued for another reasonable possibility: the date of the decision on the refugee application (although that would raise the question of what the date would be if that decision was appealed). Ultimately the Court decided that the relevant date was the date of applying for refugee status.

The Court’s starting point was (as it had ruled before) the “right” of family reunion guaranteed by the Directive, which the addition of the intention (in the preamble of the Directive) to ensure “more favourable conditions for refugees for the exercise of” that right, “on account of the reasons which obliged them to flee their country and prevent them from leading a normal family life there”. Those more favourable rules include a mandatory admission of the parents of unaccompanied minors, waiving the normal conditions which would usually apply.

Next, the Court noted that the definition of “unaccompanied minor” in the Directive was not absolutely fixed at entry: parents could arrive after the child’s entry, or desert the child after entry. In that context, it was unclear from the text of the Directive when the requirement of being 18 had to apply. But that did not mean Member States had discretion to decide that issue; the Court applied the normal rule that in the absence of an express reference to the laws of the Member States, a provision of EU law “must normally be given an autonomous and uniform interpretation throughout the European Union, and that interpretation must take into account, inter alia, the context of the provision and the objective pursued by the legislation in question”.

Since other provisions of the Directive refer explicitly to national law, the absence of such a reference in the definition of “unaccompanied minor” had an a contrario effect. The objective of the Directive was to give a right of admission to their parents, in the context of protecting family life with more favourable conditions for refugees. This case had to be distinguished from Noorzia, on the minimum age of spouses for family reunion, which concerned an optional rule that expressly gave Member States discretion to decide on the age.  Ultimately, then, the issue could not be left to each Member State to determine.

Rather, the uniform definition of “unaccompanied minor” had to be determined “by reference to the wording, general scheme and objective of that directive, taking into account the regulatory context in which it is found and the general principles of EU law”.  As noted already, the wording didn’t settle the issue. The general scheme included the exclusion of asylum-seekers from the scope of the Directive, and the application of the special rules only after the refugee had been “recognised as such by the Member States”. In that context, the Court noted that the EU’s Qualification Directive requires refugee status to be granted if an applicant satisfies the relevant conditions, and states that “recognition of refugee status is a declaratory act”, so that a person who meets the conditions for refugee status “has a subjective right to be recognised as having refugee status…even before the formal decision is adopted in that regard”.

So it followed that the date for assessing the applicant’s age could not be when the decision on refugee status was taken.  Such an interpretation would make status as a minor dependent on the functioning of national administrations, and thus undermine the effectiveness of the family reunion rules and the aims of the Directive, along with “the principles of equal treatment and legal certainty”. That’s because two different children of the same age who applied for asylum would be in a different position depending on how quickly their application was processed, an issue which was outside their control – governed rather by Member States’ decisions about organising their administration. In any event, due to “substantial surges” in asylum applications, decision making might be long winded and “time limits laid down in that regard by EU law are often exceeded”, so a “substantial proportion of refugees” who are unaccompanied minors might be denied their family reunion right. (Note that, with respect, the Court is confused here: the rules in the EU’s asylum procedures Directive on time limits to decide on asylum applications don’t apply until July 2018).

Rather than taking up the option in EU law to fast-track such cases, there might be the “opposite effect”, which would frustrate the objectives of EU legislation and the EU Charter rules on rights of the child. Here the Court obliquely recognises the possible cynicism of national interior ministries, which might simply delay deciding on applications until a child turns 18 if that would lead to preventing the admission of parents. Furthermore the Court rules that using the date of the decision on refugee recognition would “undermine legal certainty” for the young applicants as regards their family reunion.

The Court’s preferred interpretation – using the date on which the asylum application was submitted – “enables identical treatment and foreseeability to be guaranteed for all applicants who are in the same situation chronologically”, as the outcome would depend on facts intrinsic to them, not to the efficiency of national administrations.  However, the Court did accept the argument of the Dutch government and the Commission that some time limit should apply. In the judges’ view, a “reasonable time” would “in principle” be three months after the decision on refugee status, matching the optional three-month deadline explicitly set out in the Directive for refugees to make an application for family reunion before the conditions of accommodation, sickness insurance and sufficient resources apply.

Finally, the Court rejected other possible dates to determine the young person’s age: the date of entry into the territory of a Member State had to be rejected because of the link of the family reunion right with refugee status, which could only be granted after an asylum application; and the date of applying for family reunion, or the date of the decision on that application, would infringe the basic logic of the Court’s reasoning.

Comments

The core motivation of the Court’s judgment – to give broad effect to family reunion rights in general, and to the special family reunion rights of child refugees in particular – reflects a rights-based reasoning, rather than the control-based approach taken by many Member States and the EU institutions during the perceived “refugee crisis” of the last few years. Although the Court ties its interpretation of the family reunion Directive closely to the asylum process – even though there was no EU asylum law when the Directive was adopted – it nevertheless views that process with suspicion, as a potential mechanism for frustrating the applicant’s rights. The Court may have an opportunity to develop this line of reasoning further soon, if it is willing to answer questions in the pending cases (referred to above) where the Member State concerned has extended the special rules for refugees in the family reunion Directive to apply also to sponsors with subsidiary protection status (an alternative form of “international protection” which applies where applicants don’t satisfy the criteria for refugee status).

If the Court had fully followed its own logic on the declaratory effect of granting refugee status, then its final conclusion of using the date when the minor applies for asylum is suspect, for the child concerned must have been a refugee either as soon as they entered the territory, or at some later point (likely before they actually applied for asylum) when the situation in their country of nationality or (if stateless) habitual residence changed for the worse. While the Court is right to say that the Directive links the special family reunion rights with refugee status, that link is built in to the Directive anyway because the special family reunion right can never be triggered in the first place unless a successful asylum application is made. In any event, the Court’s judgment means that it is wise for an unaccompanied child who is nearly 18 to apply for asylum as soon as possible after entering the territory, to avoid any risk that they will not be able to invoke the special family reunion rights in the event that their application for refugee status is successful.

What constraints do Member States still retain on family reunion for refugees just turning 18? They can still try to limit access to their territory for the would-be young refugees. However, if those potential refugees make it to the territory, Member States can’t simply ban minors from applying for refugee status in the first place, since the asylum procedures Directive requires that they must be able to apply for asylum one way or another. If refugee status is granted, Member States can use any of the applicable options to restrict family reunion in general or the special refugee rules in particular that they have not already invoked. (Note that some of those options are off the table, since they are subject to a “standstill” rule and so had to be invoked already if they were going to be validly applied).

The Court even gives Member States a new limitation: a possible three month deadline “in principle” for the young refugees to trigger the special rules for their parents to join them. But if the sponsors are subject anyway to the three month deadline to avoid the conditions of accommodation, sickness insurance and sufficient resources, they will need to move quickly in any event. Although refugees have rights to employment in the qualification Directive, it might be hard for a young refugee to find a good enough job in the time available (access to employment for asylum seekers is limited, by the EU’s reception condition directive); and unlike EU free movement law, the family reunion Directive, as confirmed by the case law (see Khachab) requires the sufficient resources to come from the sponsors, not from their family members. In light of the principle of effectiveness, the three month deadline should not apply to those who were wrongly deprived of their family reunion rights before the Court’s judgment (see the recent King judgment on working time holiday pay, by analogy),

Are there broader implications of the judgment for other EU asylum legislation? (There are also special rules on unaccompanied minors in the EU’s returns Directive, concerning irregular migrants). This would be relevant to the qualification Directive, which includes, among other things, an obligation to trace unaccompanied child refugees’ family members. For its part, the asylum procedures Directive grants unaccompanied minors, among other things, exemptions from some procedural limitations; it also sets out rules on the sometimes controversial issue of assessing the age of children in the event of a dispute. The reception conditions Directive also requires some special treatment of unaccompanied minors, including in the context of detention. Finally, the Dublin rules on responsibility for asylum seekers contain a special rule for responsibility for the asylum applications of unaccompanied minors, which the Court of Justice previously interpreted generously.  Like the family reunion Directive, all this legislation has essentially the same definition of “unaccompanied minors” as the family reunion Directive, without addressing the “passage into adulthood” point, so logically ought to be interpreted the same way. (Note that conversely, EU criminal law legislation on child suspects’ rights – discussed here – does explicitly address this issue, setting out rules on this point similar to the Court’s family reunion judgment in its Article 2(3)).

The Court’s judgment might cause political difficulty for Member States, given that the special rules on unaccompanied minors were highly contested when EU refugee legislation was last renegotiated, ending in 2013. (A modest proposal on unaccompanied minors and the Dublin rules, dating from 2014 and discussed here, got nowhere). The issue may well arise again now that the legislation is being revised a further time, in particular as regards the Dublin rules, where (as discussed here), the Commission seeks to overturn the Court’s prior ruling in favour of unaccompanied minors.

Legalese aside, what is the impact of the new judgment for the families of young refugees? It means they can come straight to the Member State where their child lives, without having to go through the Dublin process first. (Although the Dublin rules allocate responsibility to the State where a family member is a refugee, there are sometimes problems applying this in practice; and the Commission proposal to amend the Dublin rules seeks to undercut those family rules indirectly). When they arrive, they will have access in principle to rights of access to employment et al on the same basis as their young refugee family member, as set out in the qualification Directive.

But most fundamentally, the ruling means that family members have safe passage: the obligation to give them authorisation for legal entry means they can travel to the EU without having to pay smugglers and risk mistreatment or drowning en route. So it’s no exaggeration to say that this judgment could literally save the lives of the parents of some vulnerable young refugees.

Barnard & Peers: chapter 26

JHA law: chapter I:5, I:6

Photo credit: care4calais.org

Beyond Blue Passports: UK/EU immigration after Brexit

Professor Steve Peers, University of Essex

In the last few days, there has been much debate about the UK government’s intention to ‘return’ to blue British passports after Brexit. It’s unfortunate that there have been false statements on both sides of the argument – that the change in passports will cost extra money (the contract was due for renewal anyway) and that the EU forced the UK to apply the burgundy colour (there’s only a non-binding Resolution on this issue).

Some prefer the idea of a change in colour due to Brexit, but the issue isn’t about ‘sneering’ at people who might prefer one passport colour to another. In fact, aesthetically I prefer my previous UK passport colour (which was black, not blue). But a passport should be judged not by the colour of its cover but by the content of the rights it confers.

In that light, it’s a good moment to review the rules on visits and long-term immigration to the EU that will likely apply to UK citizens after Brexit. This is an update of a previous post from 2014 on this issue, except it should be noted that there will likely be separate rules on UK citizens who already live in the EU27 states on Brexit Day – on the basis of the withdrawal agreement, as partly agreed earlier this month. I have discussed that partial deal separately and so I won’t discuss that category of people further again here. My focus is on UK citizens who are still in the UK on that point (and who do not also have the citizenship of an EU27 country).

There are several general points at the outset. First, it seems likely that a transition period will be agreed as part of the withdrawal agreement (see discussion here). This may well mean that EU free movement law continues for a short period longer to apply between the UK and the EU after Brexit Day. Those who move during the transition period will likely be treated the same as those who moved before Brexit Day, although this has yet to be confirmed.

Secondly, EU immigration law (by which I mean the EU laws generally governing the immigration status of non-EU citizens) does not apply to all Member States. In particular, the rules relating to short-term visas and borders (and aspects of irregular migration) deriving originally from the Schengen open borders agreement don’t apply to the UK or Ireland. They only partly apply to Romania, Bulgaria, Cyprus and Croatia (although those States are meant to join in future) and have been extended outside the EU, to Schengen associates: Norway, Iceland, Liechtenstein and Switzerland. The rules relating to longer-term legal migration and asylum apply to all Member States except Ireland and Denmark, but not to any non-EU countries (other than the Dublin rules on which State to apply for asylum in, which apply to the Schengen associates). 

Crucially, this means that immigration between the UK and Ireland after Brexit isn’t directly affected by any of the laws discussed in this blog post. Also EU free movement law will still apply to UK citizens who are family members of EU citizens who move to another Member State. 

Thirdly, the following analysis is based on EU law as it currently stands, as it is applied to countries like the UK post-Brexit: ie, relatively wealthy non-EU countries which do not have free movement with the EU. I’ll indicate where the law is currently being revised. It’s possible that some special post-Brexit deal on some or all aspects of immigration, falling short of free movement, might be agreed between the EU and UK after Brexit. While this prospect can’t be discussed in detail, since the UK government has not indicated whether it would even wish to seek such an agreement and so there’s no indication of what the content might be (or whether the EU would agree to it), I’ll discuss this prospect generally in a final section.

Finally, while some might try to argue that any new difficulty for UK citizens moving or travelling to the EU after Brexit would constitute some form of ‘punishment’ by the EU, this would be profoundly dishonest. The UK government seeks – as most Leave voters supported – to become a non-EU country without free movement after Brexit. Ending free movement law necessarily means that it’s not only harder for EU citizens to visit and stay in the UK, but also the other way around: the clue is in the words ‘free movement’. It should not be too much to hope that people have the integrity to accept the responsibility for the consequences of the outcome which they advocated.

Visas and border controls

‘Visas’ are an issue for both longer-term immigration and short-term travel; here I’ll discuss short-term travel, which (like border controls) has been fully harmonised by the EU as part of the Schengen process. While it’s sometimes argued that UK citizens will face short-term visa requirements to visit the EU after Brexit, the current law of the EU (the visa list Regulation) suggests that they will not (as I discuss in more detail here). That’s because it’s EU policy not to apply visa requirements to fairly wealthy non-EU countries, or to most neighbouring EU states, provided that the countries concerned reciprocate by not imposing visa requirements on EU citizens.

However, the EU is planning to set up an electronic travel advance authorisation system (ETIAS). I previously discussed this idea here; in the meantime, the legislation to establish ETIAS has been proposed by the Commission, agreed by the Council and is now under negotiation with the European Parliament. The text as agreed by the Council (and the most recent EP/Council negotiation text) would apply the ETIAS to all non-EU countries without free movement, therefore including the UK. Some in the UK would like to do set up a parallel system after Brexit, which would apply to EU citizens in return. (Note: I assume that during any transition period in the withdrawal agreement, the UK will temporarily be defined as a non-EU country which does apply free movement. The focus here is on what happens after that).

What about queues at border controls? At present, the Schengen borders code sets up a fast track solely for those with EU citizenship or nationality of a state with a free movement deal (see Articles 8 and 10). So UK citizens will no longer be fast-tracked at those borders after the end of free movement rules, unless the UK and EU negotiate an unprecedented special arrangement. Those who assert with certainty – like this MP – that nothing will change as regards longer border queues are therefore misstating the legal position. The comparison with Switzerland by the same MP is even more bizarre, given that Switzerland has signed up not only to free movement but also to the Schengen system.

UK citizens will also be subject to the planned EU entry-exit system, on the basis of newly adopted legislation, once that system is set up.  Again, that system, which will take records of all those entering and leaving the EU, will apply to all non-EU countries without a free movement agreement.  Similarly, UK citizens who have a record of criminal offences or immigration law breaches will be subject to entry bans for the entire EU enforced by means of the Schengen Information System (which is being revised), for the same reasons.  (The UK currently participates in other aspects of that System, as regards exchanges of criminal law and policing information, but it remains to be seen if this remains the case after Brexit: see further discussion here).

Long-term migration

Of course there will still be some UK citizens moving to EU countries on a long-term basis after Brexit. The point is that they (like EU citizens moving in the other direction) will no longer have the right to do so on the very liberal terms set out in free movement law, but instead will be moving on the basis of more restrictive rules set out in national law. On the EU side, those national laws have been partly harmonised by EU law. (Retirement of UK citizens in the EU will be entirely subject to the national laws of Member States).

First of all, as regards moving for work, there is EU legislation on highly-skilled non-EU migrants (the ‘Blue Card’ Directive, currently being revised as discussed here); the single permit Directive, which sets out common rules for equal treatment of non-EU migrants allowed to work; the Directive on seasonal workers (discussed here); and the Directive on intra-corporate transferees (discussed here). To some extent, this legislation sets only minimum standards or allows Member States to set up parallel national regimes.  

As regards students and researchers, a revised EU law (discussed here) will apply from 2018 (so before Brexit). UK students will lose the right to equal treatment as regards tuition fees and admission in EU universities that they currently enjoy as EU citizens (unless otherwise agreed). However, according to ECJ case law (discussed here) non-EU students must be admitted if the (more stringent) standards in the current version of the EU legislation on non-EU students are met. (There’s no reason to think that case law won’t apply to the newer version of the law).

Family reunion for UK citizens who move to the EU will also be harder after Brexit, whether their family are UK citizens or citizens of other non-EU countries, on the basis of the standards in the EU’s family reunion Directive. While Member States can set higher standards than the Directive, they often do not do so.

Finally, what about asylum? EU citizens are all but banned from applying for asylum in other Member States (the exception is discussed here), but UK citizens will no longer be EU citizens after Brexit. Like the UN Refugee Convention, EU refugee law (which is currently being revised: see discussion here) defines a refugee as person who is outside their country of origin due to a genuine fear of persecution by reason of race, religion, nationality, political opinion or particular social group. Persecution is defined as entailing some form of violence or other severe restriction on human rights. As things stand, despite obnoxious headlines from the UK’s most toxic newspapers, those calling for murder of Remain supporters are a tiny extreme fringe and there is no sign that the UK government is unable or unwilling to respond to any further violence which they might commit. Nor is there any move to lock up or ban the free speech of Remain supporters. Let’s hope this always remains the case.

Irregular migration

Finally, it should be noted that UK citizens who breach the immigration law of the EU and/or its Member States – which would obviously be more likely after Brexit as less liberal rules would apply – would be subject to the EU’s Returns Directive, which governs many aspects of the process of removing non-EU citizens who are not legally resident. This Directive has been subject to a relatively liberal interpretation by the ECJ, as I discuss here), but nevertheless it is rather more restrictive than the rules on expulsion or detention as set out in EU free movement law.

Special deal?

Could the EU and UK sign as special deal on immigration after Brexit? (I am leaving aside the likely transition period in the withdrawal agreement). As regards visas and borders, this would likely be an agreement with the entire EU, since the degree of harmonisation in this field means that the ECJ would likely rule that the EU has exclusive competence. In practice, the EU has been willing to sign treaties with non-EU countries on links with the border agency Frontex, and on visa waiver and readmission treaties. Would the EU be willing to go further, and (for instance) agree reciprocal non-application of the electronic travel authorisation rules on each side?

On legal migration, the EU has harmonised the law less and the Treaties reserve a national competence regarding the numbers of non-EU citizens admitted to work. Moreover, EU legislation in this field usually expressly states that Member States can enter into bilateral treaties with non-EU countries.  So any agreement would either be ‘mixed’ (needing ratification by the EU and its Member States), or purely bilateral between the UK and individual Member States. In some cases the EU has been willing to sign an association agreement with non-EU countries which contains limited rules on immigration.

More broadly, the issue of whether the UK and EU should sign a special immigration deal after Brexit may form part of the broader talks, with some in the UK willing to offer a trade of limited preferential labour market access in return for bigger access to the EU services market, for instance. Others might be unwilling on principle to offer any commitment regarding immigration. One factor that shouldn’t be overlooked is that such a deal would be reciprocal – preserving equally some possibility of facilitated immigration for UK citizens to the EU, not only the other way around.

*This blog post was supported by an ESRC priority grant on "Brexit and UK/EU immigration policy"

Barnard & Peers: chapter 27, chapter 26

JHA4: chapter I:3, I:4, I:5, I:6, I:7

Photo credit: Telegraph