Showing posts with label external relations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label external relations. Show all posts

Tuesday, 11 December 2018

The Global Compact for Migration: cracks in unity of EU representation





Pauline Melin, PhD, Lecturer in European Law (Maastricht University) and Researcher at the Institute for European Law (KULeuven)

Today, the UN Global Compact for Safe, Orderly and Regular Migration is meant to be approved by an intergovernmental conference in Marrakesh with the purpose to be adopted on the 19th December 2018 as a Resolution of the UN General Assembly in New York. The debate over the adoption the Global Compact for Migration has been politically polluted. Since the end of October 2018 and the withdrawal of Austria, a Member State who had until then positively contributed to the negotiations Global Compact through the Council Presidency, no week has passed without a new announcement of an EU Member State withdrawing or doubting its support for the Global Compact for Migration. That vague of lack of support coming from the EU Member States is in contradiction with the (supposedly) common position presented by the Union delegation during the negotiation process. Those cracks in unity of representation of the EU on the international scene raise questions concerning the role of the EU in the negotiations of the Global Compact and the consequences for its Member States in light of the principle of sincere cooperation.

The role of the EU in the negotiation of the Global Compact for Migration

The process eventually leading to the adoption of the Global Compact started in September 2016 with the New York Declaration whereby 193 Heads of State and Government recognized the need for developing an international cooperation on migration.

Throughout its different drafts (the Zero Draft on 5th February 2018, the Zero Draft Plus on 5th March 2018 and the Final Draft on 11th July 2018), the wording of the Global Compact concerning its legal nature stayed consistent. The Global Compact is intended to present “a non-legally binding, cooperative framework that builds on the commitments agreed upon by Member States in the New York Declaration for Refugees and Migrants.” (emphasis added, points 5,6, and 7 of the Zero Draft, Zero Draft Plus and Final Draft respectively).

From the UN side, the negotiations of the Global Compact were meant to be as inclusive as possible with the participation of all its State Members, all members of specialized agencies that have an observer status with the General Assembly, intergovernmental organizations and other entities having received a standing invitation. The EU, as a regional group, was granted standing status in order to participate in the negotiations and the conclusion of the Global Compact.

From an EU perspective, given the fact that the Global Compact for Migration is a non-legally binding international instrument, the procedure for negotiating and concluding an international agreement enshrined in Article 218 TFEU was not applicable (C-233/02 France v. Commission, para. 40). The EU participated in the negotiation of the Global Compact through the delivery of Union delegation statements. According to the European Commission, the Union delegation statements were “EU coordinated statements” constituting an “unified EU approach”. That unified EU approach must however be nuanced considering that, since March 2018, Hungary has proposed a very different approach than the one defended by the Union delegation. Furthermore, the exclusion of Hungary from the EU coordinated statements can be seen from the Union delegation’s statements themselves which mention “on behalf of 27 Member States”.

The (lack of) common position

The fact that the Global Compact is a non-legally binding international instrument does not entail that the principles of conferral, institutional balance or sincere cooperation should not be respected. In case C-660/13 Council v. Commission on the Swiss MoU, the Court found that the Commission needs a Council Decision authorizing it to sign the negotiated text of a non-binding instrument before it can approve it on behalf of the Union. In the context of the negotiation of the Global Compact for Migration, the Commission in fact relied on this case in order to justify its proposal for Council Decisions (since withdrawn) authorizing it to sign the Global Compact in Marrakesh on behalf of the Union.

However, as opposed to the Council v. Commission case, the Commission here did not seem to have a clear negotiating mandate from the Council. In Council v. Commission, there were some Council Conclusions adopted in 2012 authorizing the start of the negotiation between the Swiss Confederation and the EU whereby the content of the negotiation as well as the designation of the European Commission as the negotiator were set out. The European Commission then considered that because the negotiated text was similar in content to the negotiated mandate, it could sign the negotiated text on the basis of Article 17(1) TFEU (para.35). However, the Court disagreed and held that neither Article 17(1) TEU nor the negotiating mandate found in the Council Conclusions were sufficient bases for authorizing the Commission to sign the negotiated text without a Council Decision on the matter.

In the case of the negotiation of the Global Compact for Migration, there is in fact no Council Decision authorizing the start of the negotiation. In order to justify its negotiating position on behalf of the Union, the European Commission relies on two documents: the European Council Conclusions on Migration from October 2016 and the European Consensus on Development from 2017. In the European Council Conclusions on Migration, it is simply mentioned that the European Council welcomes the New York Declaration. In the European Consensus on Development, it is stated that the EU and its Member States will actively support the elaboration of the UN Global Compacts on Migration and Refugees. While the two documents could be considered as an indication that there is a willingness from the European Council to have a common position in the negotiations of the Global Compacts for Migration and Refugees, there is nothing in the documents that either identify the European Commission as the negotiator on behalf of the Union and its Member States nor that indicate what the content of that common position would be. With no official document proving the common position of the EU and its Member States, one might wonder whether the Member States were obliged to abstain from contradicting the Union delegations’ statements.

The point of departure of the principle of sincere cooperation

From the PFOS case, it seems that the principle of sincere cooperation whereby the Member States should support the position expressed by the EU or, at least, abstain from contradicting it starts from the moment there is an established common position (para. 89). In the PFOS case, Sweden had submitted a proposal to list PFOS in Annex A of the Stockholm Convention while a Commission proposal for a Council Decision authorizing the Commission to submit on behalf of the Union and its Member States a list of chemicals to be added in the Annexes of the Stockholm Convention did not comprise PFOS within the list. Firstly, the Court recalled that the principle of sincere cooperation flows from the requirement of unity in international representation of the Union (para.73). Then the Court reminded that the submission by the Commission of a Council proposal for the authorization to start the negotiation of a multilateral agreement represent the point of departure for a concerted action even though the proposal has not been adopted by the Council (para. 74). The Court added that the establishment of a common position through a Council Decision was not a prerequisite for its existence as long as “the content of that position can be established to the requisite legal standards” (para.77). In the PFOS case, the Court found that the fact that Council’s conclusions and minutes of the meeting of the Council’s Working Party on International Environmental Issues were sufficient evidences of an established common position which the Member States should support or, at least, abstain from contradicting (para.89). In reference to the “requisite legal standards”, the Court referred another case whereby the Council and the Commission had concluded an arrangement setting up a coordination procedure between the Commission and the Member States to decide on the exercise of responsibilities or on statements in the context of the UN Food and Agriculture Organization (‘FAO’).

In the context of the drafting process of the Global Compact for Migration, one may consider the General Arrangements for EU Statements in multilateral organisations as being the relevant requisite legal standards. In the General Arrangements, point 2 indicates that “[G]iven the sensitivity of representation and potential expectations of third parties, it is essential that, in conformity with current practice, the preparation of statements relating to the sensitive area of competences of the EU and its Member States should remain internal and consensual.” (emphasis added). Hence, while the need for a Council Decision is not required, there is a need to have an internal discussion and a consensus about the common position. Considering the fact that internal coordination for setting a common position takes place behind closed doors, it is not possible to ascertain whether the internal coordination on the Global Compact for Migration actually took place.

Conclusion

While there might have been internal coordination and an agreed common position, the lack of evidence of it becomes a problem when Member States start expressing opinions contradicting the Union’s position. The uneasiness of the European Commission faced by rebellious Member States can be felt through the timing of its proposals for Council Decisions authorizing it to sign the Global Compact for Migration on behalf of the Union. The European Commission adopted those proposals in March 2018 whereas the Final Draft of the Global Compact for Migration was only agreed in July 2018. As a result of the lack of proof of an agreed common position, it is difficult for the European Commission to ensure that the Member States respect their obligations under the principle of sincere cooperation. However, there should be a strong interest for the European Commission to avoid cracks in unity of representation as it ultimately diminishes the credibility of the EU as a global actor. Given the growing relevance of non-binding international instruments, it is unlikely that the cracks in unity of representation will remain anecdotal to the approval of the Global Compact. It is therefore time to think about a clear legal framework for the negotiation and conclusion of non-binding international instruments.

Barnard & Peers: chapter 24, chapter 26
Photo credit: Steve Peers

Tuesday, 22 August 2017

Cross-border civil litigation after Brexit: analysis of the UK government’s proposals




Professor Steve Peers

Imagine you’re a prominent UK politician. You spend most of your time ranting on a radio station in the UK or grovelling in the USA, occasionally showing up in France or Belgium to do your actual full-time job. You’re now getting a divorce from your German wife. Which court rules on matters concerning divorce and access to children – and which law applies?

This dispute would be part of the broader topic of cross-border civil litigation (or private international law), which is the subject of the UK government’s latest position paper on the Brexit talks. This paper gives some interesting hints about how the UK seeks a close relationship with the EU after Brexit, while also leaving some key issues rather vague.

First of all, it’s necessary to point out that the paper doesn’t concern the future of dispute settlement between the UK and the EU after Brexit. That’s the subject of another position paper coming very soon. Rather it concerns how cross-border disputes between private citizens or companies in the UK or EU will be dealt with after Brexit.

The paper usefully sets out which EU laws in this area the UK has currently opted into, in particular: the general rules on civil and commercial jurisdiction and conflict of laws; the special rules on insolvency disputes and divorce/child access, maintenance, and stalking orders; and related laws on simplified litigation, service of documents, legal aid, evidence, legal aid, mediation and the ‘European Judicial Network’ (a talking shop on the operation of these laws). (For an overview of these issues in the Brexit context see the recent House of Lords report).

Note that the UK has opted out of some other EU laws in this area, in particular those concerning marital property after divorce (and the property of civil partnerships which ended), inheritance and conflict of divorce law. (For an overview of EU law in this area as a whole, see the chapter in the second volume of my book on EU Justice and Home Affairs Law).

The paper is mainly about the future UK/EU relationship in this area, not withdrawal from the EU as such. But there's a bit on that issue at the end, in response to the EU’s position paper on the UK’s exit from the law in this area. Of course, the UK government is correct to say that there is no need for any such transition arrangements, to the extent that the UK still participates in the law in this field after Brexit. But then, the EU won't discuss any aspects of its future relationship with the UK until there is ‘sufficient progress’ on the key issues of the UK’s so-called ‘divorce bill’ and the status of UK and EU citizens. (If and when the EU and UK do agree on post-Brexit treaties in this area, note that the EU usually votes by a qualified majority, except as regards family law, where there is a veto. At least in key areas, the ECJ has ruled that Member State ratification of such treaties is not necessary, since the EU is exclusively competent).

There’s likely to be a need to bridge the gap between Brexit Day and any future agreement between the UK and the EU. This will probably take the form of some transitional extension of current EU law, as part of the Brexit withdrawal treaty. But the position paper doesn’t mention this issue at all – perhaps because the UK government has not fully agreed on the details, and perhaps because the EU side insists that the ECJ would still have jurisdiction during that period.

Future relationship

So what relationship does the UK government want with the EU in future? The papers calls for a ‘new partnership…reflecting our close existing relationship’, but does not detail which laws the UK wants to continue participating in.  One hopes that the government will at least tell the EU which laws it wants to continue applying. 

There’s one thing the UK government clearly doesn’t want though: the continued ‘direct’ jurisdiction of the ECJ. (The notion of ‘direct’ jurisdiction isn’t explained explicitly, but we can deduce what the government will accept – see further below).  The reader gets the distinct impression that the UK is happy to continue participating in all the EU laws it has signed up to already, except for removing the ECJ’s direct jurisdiction. It’s a bit like tearing down and rebuilding a house, in order to change one brick.

The paper doesn’t address an obvious question: what if an existing EU law is revised post Brexit? This point isn't hypothetical. There's a proposal to revise the current EU law on divorce and child access already. The UK has already opted in to negotiations. But negotiations are slow, and might not conclude before Brexit Day. Other laws in this field are negotiated over time. How to address this topic?

International treaties

The paper seems keen to reassure those who litigate in the UK (in particular, London) that the UK will still be ‘open for business’ in this field after Brexit. To that end, the government confirms that it will remain a party to a list of international treaties in the field (as distinct from EU law), drawn up in the auspices of an international body which focusses on cross-border civil litigation – the Hague Conference on Private International Law, including the important Hague Convention on child abduction. For most of these treaties, this will be simple, because the UK is a party to them in its own right, not as an EU Member State. For some others, the UK participates only as an EU Member State, although it ought to be an easy transition to participating in its own name: it can simply sign and ratify them on Brexit Day.

However, the UK also wants to stay part of the Lugano Convention - which extends an earlier version of the main EU law on civil and commercial jurisdiction to relations between the EU and EFTA states (Norway, Iceland, and Switzerland – along with EU Member State Denmark for convoluted reasons). This is another kettle of fish. According to that Convention, to sign up in its own name, the UK either has to become an EFTA state (which is a big issue in itself, since EFTA is a trade agreement) or wangle a special invitation to sign up. And as the government’s position paper acknowledges, it’s awkward that the Convention only relates to an earlier version of that EU law.

Signing up to the Lugano Convention also raises an issue about the ECJ. The Convention states that the courts of non-EU states must ‘pay due account’ to ECJ judgments. So we can deduce that the UK government does not believe that such an obligation violates its ‘red line’ against ‘direct jurisdiction’ of the ECJ. It might have been better to say this explicitly, and to propose it as a template for UK/EU relations in this field, given that the UK apparently wants to keep participation in other relevant EU laws as well. Indeed, it might also be a template for other areas where the UK seeks to continue participation in EU laws as a non-EU state. Perhaps the forthcoming paper on EU/UK dispute settlement will say more on this.

Furthermore, the ECJ clause in the Lugano Convention is similar (but not identical) to the ECJ clause in the EU Withdrawal Bill as proposed by the government – which says that pre-Brexit ECJ rulings stay binding (subject to the UK Supreme Court possibly overruling them, or the government or parliament overruling them), while post-Brexit ECJ may be taken into account by courts in the UK.

This may be enough of a compromise to satisfy hardline Brexiteers; we’ll see. It ought to be acceptable to the EU side, given that it’s been accepted in the context of relations with EFTA states for nearly thirty years (the first version of the Lugano Convention dates back to 1988). But then, the UK is asking for a closer relationship in this field of law than any other non-EU country. In any event, the areas of law where the EU insists on an ECJ role (citizens’ rights, the ‘divorce bill’, a transitional deal) will be more difficult to agree. Time will tell if talks eventually founder – either on those ECJ issues, or indeed on the bill itself.

Barnard & Peers: chapter 27
JHA4: chapter II:8

Photo credit: Metro

Friday, 4 August 2017

Transferring personal data outside the EU: Clarification from the ECJ?



Lorna Woods, Professor of Internet Law, University of Essex

Opinion 1/15 EU/Canada PNR Agreement, 26th July 2017

Facts

Canadian law required airlines, in the interests of the fight against serious crime and terrorism, to provide certain information about passengers (API/PNR data), which obligation required airlines under EU data protection regulations to transfer data to outside the EU.  The PNR data includes the names of air passengers, the dates of intended travel, the travel itinerary, and information relating to payment and baggage. The PNR data may reveal travel habits, relationships between two individuals, information on the financial situation or the dietary habits of individuals. To regularise the transfer of data, and to support police cooperation, the EU negotiated an agreement with Canada specifying the data to be transferred, the purposes for which the data could be used, as well as some processing safeguard provisions (e.g. use of sensitive data, security obligations, oversight requirements, access by passengers).  The data was permitted to be retained for five years, albeit in a depersonalised form.  Further disclosure of the data beyond Canada and the Member States was permitted in limited circumstances.  The European Parliament requested an opinion from the Court of Justice under Article 218(11) TFEU as to whether the agreement satisfied fundamental human rights standards and whether the appropriate Treaty base had been used for the agreement.

Opinion

The Court noted that the agreement fell within the EU’s constitutional framework, and must therefore comply with its constitutional principles, including (though this point was not made express), respect for fundamental human rights (whether as a general principle or by virtue of the EU Charter – the EUCFR).

After dealing with questions of admissibility, the Court addressed the question of appropriate Treaty base. It re-stated existing principles (elaborated, for example, in Case C263/14 Parliament v Council, judgment 14 June 2016, EU:C:2016:435) with regard to choice of Treaty base generally: the choice must rest on objective factors (including the aim and the content of that measure) which are amenable to judicial review.  In this context the Court found that the proposed agreement has two objectives: safeguarding public security; and safeguarding personal data [opinion, para 90].  The Court concluded that the two objectives were inextricably linked: while the driver for the need to PNR data was protection of public security, the transfer of data would be lawful only if data protection rules were respected [para 94].  Therefore, the agreement should be based on both Article 16(2) (data protection) and Article 87(2)(a) TFEU (police cooperation).  It held, however, that Article 82(1)(d) TFEU (judicial cooperation) could not be used, partly because judicial authorities were not included in the agreement.

Looking at the issue of data protection, the Court re-stated the question as being ‘on the compatibility of the envisaged agreement with, in particular, the right to respect for private life and the right to the protection of personal data’ [para 119].  It then commented that although both Article 16 TFEU and Article 8 EUCFR enshrine the right to data protection, in its analysis it would refer to Article 8 only, because that provision lays down in a more specific manner the conditions for data processing.  The agreement refers to the processing of data concerning identified individuals, and therefore may affect the fundamental right to respect for private life guaranteed in Article 7 EUCFR as well as the right to protection to personal data in Article 8 EUCFR. The Court re-iterated a number of principles regarding the scope of the right to private life:

‘the communication of personal data to a third party, such as a public authority, constitutes an interference with the fundamental right enshrined in Article 7 of the Charter, whatever the subsequent use of the information communicated. The same is true of the retention of personal data and access to that data with a view to its use by public authorities. In this connection, it does not matter whether the information in question relating to private life is sensitive or whether the persons concerned have been inconvenienced in any way on account of that interference’ [para 124].

The transfer of PNR data and its retention and any use constituted an interference with both Article 7 [para 125] and Article 8 EUCFR [para 126]. In assessing the seriousness of the interference, the Court flagged ‘the systematic and continuous’ nature of the PNR system, the insight into private life of individuals, the fact that the system is used as an intelligence tool and the length of time for which the data is available.

Interferences with these rights may be justified.  Nonetheless, there are constraints on any justification: Article 8(2)  of the EU Charter specifies that processing must be ‘for specified purposes and on the basis of the consent of the person concerned or some other legitimate basis laid down by law’; and, according to Article 52(1) of the EU Charter, any limitation must be provided for by law and respect the essence of those rights and freedoms. Further, limitations must be necessary and genuinely meet objectives of general interest recognised by the Union or the need to protect the rights and freedoms of others. 

Following WebMindLicenses (Case C‑419/14, judgment of 17 December 2015, EU:C:2015:832, para 81), the law that permits the interference should also set down the extent of that interference. Proportionality requires that any derogation from and limitation on the protection of personal data should apply only insofar as is strictly necessary. To this end and to prevent the risk of abuse, the legislation must set down ‘clear and precise rules governing the scope and application of the measure in question and imposing minimum safeguards’, specifically ‘indicat[ing] in what circumstances and under which conditions a measure providing for the processing of such data may be adopted’ [para 141], especially when automated processing is involved.

The Court considered whether there was a legitimate basis for the processing, noting that although passengers may be said to consent to the processing of PNR data, this consent related to a different purpose. The transfer of the PNR data is not conditional on the specific consent of the passengers and must therefore be grounded on some other basis, within the terms of Article 8(2) EUCFR. The Court rejected the Parliament’s submission that the meaning of ‘law’ be restricted to ‘legislative act’ internally. The Court, following the reasoning of the Advocate General, found that in this regard the international agreement was the external equivalent of the legislative act.

In line with its previous jurisprudence, the Court accepted that public security is an objective of public interest capable of justifying even serious interferences with Articles 7 and 8 EUCFR. It also noted that everybody has the right to security of the person (Art. 6 EUCFR), though this point was taken no further. The Court considered that PNR data revealed only limited aspects of a person’s private life, so that the essence of the right was not adversely affected [para 151]. In principle, limitation may then be possible. The Court accepted that PNR data transfer was appropriate, but not that the test of necessity was satisfied. It agreed with the Advocate General that the categories of data to be transferred were not sufficiently precise, specifically ‘available frequent flyer and benefit information (free tickets, upgrades, etc.)’, ‘all available contact information (including originator information)’ and ‘general remarks including Other Supplementary Information (OSI), Special Service Information (SSI) and Special Service Request (SSR) information’. Although the agreement required the Canadian authorities to delete any data transferred to them which fell outside these categories, this obligation did not compensate for the lack of precision regarding the scope of these categories.

The Court noted that the agreement identified a category of ‘sensitive data’; it was therefore to be presumed that sensitive data would be transferred under the agreement. The Court then reasoned:

any measure based on the premiss that one or more of the characteristics set out in Article 2(e) of the envisaged agreement may be relevant, in itself or in themselves and regardless of the individual conduct of the traveller concerned, having regard to the purpose for which PNR data is to be processed, namely combating terrorism and serious transnational crime, would infringe the rights guaranteed in Articles 7 and 8 of the Charter, read in conjunction with Article 21 thereof [para 165]

Additionally, any transfer of sensitive data would require a ‘precise and particularly solid’ reason beyond that of public security and prevention of terrorism. This justification was lacking. The transfer of sensitive data and the framework for the use of those data would be incompatible with the EU Charter [para 167].

While the agreement tried to limit the impact of automated decision-making, the Court found it problematic because of the need to have reliable models on which the automated decisions were made. These models, in the view of the Court, must produce results that identify persons under a ‘reasonable suspicion’ of participation in terrorist offences or serious transnational crime and should be non-discriminatory. Models/databases should also be kept up-to-date and accurate and subject to review for bias. Because of the error risk, all positive automated decisions should be individually checked.

In terms of the purposes for processing the data, the definition of terrorist offences and serious transnational crime were sufficiently clear. There were however other provisions, allowing case-by-case assessment.  These provisions (Article 3(5)(a) and (b) of the treaty) were found to be too vague.  By contrast, the Court determined that the authorities who would receive the data were sufficiently identified. Further, it accepted that the transfer of data of all passengers, whether or not they were identified as posing a risk or not, does not exceed what is necessary as passengers must comply with Canadian law and ‘the identification, by means of PNR data, of passengers liable to present a risk to public security forms part of border control’ [para 188].

Relying on its recent judgment in Tele2/Watson (Joined Cases C‑203/15 and C‑698/15, EU:C:2016:970), which I discussed here, the Court reiterated that there must be a connection between the data retained and the objective pursued for the duration of the time the data are held, which brought into question the use of the PNR data after passengers had disembarked in Canada.  Further, the use of the data must be restricted in accordance with those purposes. However,

where there is objective evidence from which it may be inferred that the PNR data of one or more air passengers might make an effective contribution to combating terrorist offences and serious transnational crime, the use of that data does not exceed the limits of what is strictly necessary [para 201].

Following verification of passenger data and permission to enter Canadian territory, the use of PNR data during passengers’ stay must be based on new justifying circumstances. The Court expected that this should be subject to prior review by an independent body. The Court held that the agreement did not meet the required standards.  Similar points were made, even more strongly, in relation to the use of PNR data after the passengers had left Canada. In general, this was not strictly necessary, as there would no longer be a connection between the data and the objective pursued by the PNR Agreement such as to justify the retention of their data. PNR data may be stored in Canada, however, when particular passengers present a risk of terrorism of serious transnational crime. Moreover, given the average lifespan of international serious crime networks and the duration and complexity of investigations relating to them, the Court did not hold that the retention of data for five years went beyond the limits of necessity [para 209].

The agreement allows PNR data to be disclosed by the Canadian authority to other Canadian government authorities and to government authorities of third countries. The recipient country must satisfy EU data protection standards; an international agreement between the third country and the EU or an adequacy decision would be required. There is a further, unlimited and ill-defined possibility of disclosure to individuals ‘subject to reasonable legal requirements and limitations ... with due regard for the legitimate interests of the individual concerned’. This provision did not satisfy the necessity test.

To ensure that the individuals’ rights to access their data and to have data rectified is protected, in line with Tele2/Watson, passengers must be notified of the transfer of their PNR data to Canada and of its use as soon as that information is no longer liable to jeopardise the investigations being carried out by the government authorities referred to in the envisaged agreement. In this respect, the agreement is deficient. While passengers are told that the data will be used for security checks/border control, they are not told whether their data has been used by the Canadian Competent Authority beyond use for those checks.  While the Court accepted that the agreement provided passengers with a possible remedy, the agreement was deficient in that it did not guarantee in a sufficiently clear and precise manner that the oversight of compliance would be carried out by an independent authority, as required by Article 8(3) EUCFR.

Comment

There are lots of issues in this judgment, of interest from a range of perspectives, but its length and complexity means it is not an easy read. Because of these characteristics, a blog – even a lengthy blog – could hardly do justice to all issues, especially as in some instances, it is hardly clear what the Court’s position is.

On the whole the Court follows the approach of its Advocate General, Mengozzi, on a number of points specifically referring back to his Opinion. There is, as seems increasingly to be the trend, heavy reliance on existing case law and it is notable that the Court refers repeatedly to its ruling in Tele2/Watson.  This may be a judicial attempt to suggest that Tele2/Watson was not an aberration and to reinforce its status as good law, if that were in any doubt. It also operates to create a body of surveillance law rulings that are hopefully consistent in underpinning principles and approach, and certainly some of the points in earlier case law are reiterated with regards to the importance of ex ante review by independent bodies, rights of redress and the right of individuals to know that they have been subject to surveillance.

The case is of interest not only in regards mass surveillance but more generally in relation to Article 16(2) TFEU. It is also the first time an opinion has been given on a draft agreement considering its compatibility with human rights standards as well as the appropriate Treaty base. In this respect the judgment may be a little disappointing; certainly on Article 16, the Court did not go into the same level of detail as in the AG’s opinion [AG114-AG120]. Instead it equated Article 16 TFEU to Article 8 EUCFR, and based its analysis on the latter provision.

As a general point, it is evident that the Court has adopted a detailed level of review of the PNR agreement.  The outcome of the case has widely been recognised as having implications, as –for example – discussed earlier on this blog.  Certainly, as the Advocate General noted, possible impact on other PNR agreements [AG para 4] which relate to the same sorts of data shared for the same objectives.  The EDPS made this point too, in the context of the EU PNR Directive:

Since the functioning of the EU PNR and the EU-Canada schemes are similar, the answer ofthe Court mayhave a significant impact on the validity of all other PNR instruments …. [Opinion 2/15, para 18]

There are other forms of data sharing agreement, for example, SWIFT, the Umbrella Agreement,  the Privacy Shield (and other adequacy decisions) the last of which is coming under pressure in any event (DRI v Commission (T-670/16) and La Quadrature du Net and Others v Commission (T-738/16)).  Note that in this context, there is not just a question of considering the safeguards for protection of rights but also relates to Treaty base.  The Court found that Article 16 must be used and that – because there was no role for judicial authorities, still less their cooperation – the use of Article 82(1)(d) is wrong.  It has, however, been used for example in regards to other PNR agreements.  This means that that the basis for those agreements is thrown into doubt.

While the Court agreed with its Advocate General to suggest that a double Treaty base was necessary given the inextricable linkage, there is some room to question this assumption.  It could also be argued that there is a dominant purpose, as the primary purpose of the PNR agreement is to protect personal data, albeit with a different objective in view, that of public security. In the background, however, is the position of the UK, Ireland and Denmark and their respective ‘opt-outs’ in the field. While a finding of a joint Treaty base made possible the argument of the Court that:

since the decision on the conclusion of the envisaged agreement must be based on both Article 16 and Article 87 TFEU and falls, therefore, within the scope of Chapter 5 of Title V of Part Three of the FEU Treaty in so far as it must be founded on Article 87 TFEU, the Kingdom of Denmark will not be bound, in accordance with Articles 2 and 2a of Protocol No 22, by the provisions of that decision, nor, consequently, by the envisaged agreement. Furthermore, the Kingdom of Denmark will not take part in the adoption of that decision, in accordance with Article 1 of that protocol. [para 113, see also para 115]

The position would, however, have been different had the agreement be found to have been predominantly about data protection and therefore based on Article 16 TFEU alone.

Looking at the substantive issues, the Court clearly accepted the need for PNR to challenge the threat from terrorism, noting in particular that Article 6 of the Charter (the “right to liberty and security of person”) can justify the processing of personal data. While it accepted that this resulted in systemic transfer of large quantities of people, we see no comments about mass surveillance. Yet, is this not similar to the ‘general and indiscriminate’ collection and analysis rejected by the Court in Tele2/Watson [para 97], and which cannot be seen as automatically justified even in the context of the fight against terrorism [para 103 and 119]? Certainly, the EDPS took the view in its opinion on the EU PNR Directive that “the non-targeted and bulk collection and processing of data of the PNR scheme amount to a measure of general surveillance” [Opinion 1/15, para 63]. It may be that the difference is in the nature of the data; even if this is so, the Court does not make this argument. Indeed, it makes no argument but rather weakly accepts the need for the data.  On this point, it should be noted that “the usefulness of large-scale profiling on the basis of passenger data must be questioned thoroughly, based on both scientific elements and recent studies” [Art. 29 WP Opinion 7/2010, p. 4]. In this aspect, Opinion 1/15 is not as strong a stand as Tele2/Watson [c.f para 105-106]; it seems that the Court was less emphatic about significance of surveillance even than the Advocate General [AG 176].

In terms of justification, while the Court accepts that the transfer of data and its analysis may give rise to intrusion, it suggests that the essence of the right has not been affected. In this it follows the approach in the communications data cases.  It is unclear, however, what the essence of the right is; it seems that no matter how detailed a picture of an individual can be drawn from the analysis of data, the essence of the right remains intact.  If the implication is that where the essence of the right is affected then no justification for the intrusion could be made, a narrow view of essence is understandable.  This does not, however, answer the question of what the essence is and, indeed, whether the essence of the right is the same for Article 7 as for Article 8.  In this case, the Court has once again referred to both articles, without delineating the boundaries between them, but then proceeded to base its analysis mainly on Article 8.

In terms of relationship between provisions, it is also unclear what the relationship is between Art 8(2) and Art 52.  The Court bundles the requirements for these two provisions together but they serve different purposes. Article 8(2) further elaborates the scope of the right; Article 52 deals with the limitations of Charter rights.  Despite this, it seems that some of the findings will apply Article 52 in the context of other rights. For example, in considering that an international agreement constitutes law for the purposes of the EUCFR, the Court took a broader approach to meaning of ‘law’ than the Parliament had argued for.  This however seems a sensible approach, avoiding undue formality. 

One further point about the approach to interpreting exceptions to the rights and Article 52 can be made. It seems that the Court has not followed the Advocate General who had suggested that strict necessity should be understood in the light of achieving a fair balance [AG207].
 
Some specific points are worth highlighting. The Court held that sensitive data (information that reveals racial or ethnic origin, political opinions, religious or philosophical beliefs, trade-union membership, information about a person’s health or sex life) should not be transferred. It is not clear what interpretation should be given to these data, especially as regards proxies for sensitive data (e.g. food preferences may give rise to inferences about a person’s religious beliefs).

One innovation in the PNR context is the distinction the Court introduced between use of PNR data on entry, use while the traveller is in Canada, and use after the person has left, which perhaps mitigates the Court’s acceptance of undifferentiated surveillance of travellers.  The Court’s view of the acceptability of use in relation to this last category is the most stringent.  While the Court accepts the link between the processing of PNR data on arrival, after departure the Court expects that link to be proven, and absent such proof, there is no justification for the retention of data. Does this mean that on departure PNR data of persons who are not suspected of terrorism or transnational crime should be deleted at the point of their departure? Such a requirement surely gives rise to practical problems and would seem to limit the Court’s earlier acceptance of the use of general PNR data to verify/update computer models [para 198].

One of the weaknesses of the Court’s caselaw so far has been a failure to consider investigatory techniques, and whether all are equally acceptable.  Here we see the Court beginning to consider the use of automated intelligence techniques.  While the Court does not go into detail on all the issues to which predictive policing and big data might give rise, it does note that models must be accurate.  It also refers to Article 21 EUCFR (discrimination).  In that this section is phrased in general terms, it has potentially wide-reaching application, potentially even beyond the public sector.

The Court’s judgment has further implications as regards the sharing of PNR and other security data with other countries besides Canada, most notably in the context of EU/UK relations after Brexit. Negotiators now have a clearer indication of what it will take for an agreement between the EU and a non-EU state to satisfy the requirements of the Charter, in the ECJ’s view. Time will tell what impact this ruling will have on the progress of those talks.

Barnard & Peers: chapter 25
JHA4: chapter II:9

Photo credit: ctvnews.ca

Thursday, 18 May 2017

New Developments in the context of the European Citizens’ Initiative: General Court rules on ‘Stop TTIP’



Anastasia KaratziaAssistant Professor in EU Law, Erasmus University Rotterdam and currently Visiting Research Fellow at the School of Law and Social Justice, University of Liverpool

Introduction

A few months ago, we saw the first annulment by the EU’s General Court of a Commission Decision refusing registration of a proposed European Citizens’ Initiative (ECI), in the case of Minority SafePack. Last week, there was an even bigger development in the case law of the General Court regarding the interpretation of the ECI’s legal admissibility test: in the Stop TTIP case[1] the Court annulled another Commission’s Decision, this time not on a procedural ground such as the one in Minority SafePack, but on the substantive ground that the Commission breached Article 11(4) TEU (which sets out the power to adopt the ECI law), and Articles 2(1) and 4(2)(b) of the ECI Regulation, which sets out one of the criteria for the legal admissibility test.

In Stop TTIP, the General Court clarified a matter of contention between ECI organisers / stakeholders and the Commission viz. the scope of an ECI and, more specifically, the way in which the Commission had limited the acceptable subject-matters for the purposes of registering an ECI. These limitations were stipulated in the Commission’s letter of response regarding the refusal of registration for the proposed ‘Stop TTIP’ Initiative, which was submitted for registration in July 2014. The Initiative proposed to cease the negotiations for the Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership agreement (TTIP) between the EU and US, and to prevent the conclusion of the Comprehensive Economic and Trade Agreement (CETA) between the EU and Canada.

In more detail, ‘Stop TTIP’ had invited the Commission to ask the Council to repeal its decision to authorise the opening of the TTIP negotiations under Article 218(2) TFEU (which is the legal rule on the process of the EU negotiating treaties). It also asked the Commission to submit a proposal for a Council decision not to conclude CETA. In September 2014, the Commission replied to the organisers that both their proposals had been rejected on the basis of Article 4(2)(b) in conjunction with Article 2(1) of the ECI Regulation, because they fell outside the framework of the Commission’s powers to submit a proposal for a legal act of the Union for the purpose of implementing the Treaties.

The Commission’s reply revealed two limitations on the scope of the ECI.[2] First, the Commission stipulated that an ECI cannot invite the Commission to adopt preparatory acts. The Commission argued in its reply that its proposals to the Council under Article 218 TFEU to authorise the opening of negotiations for international agreements were not proposals for legal acts. The Council Decisions authorising the opening of negotiations for an international agreement are preparatory acts that produce legal effects only between the EU and its Member States and between the EU institutions. Therefore, the Commission’s relevant proposals to the Council lacked legal effect against third parties. Accordingly, the position of the Commission was that ‘Stop TTIP’ was not proposing any legal acts for the purpose of implementing the Treaties and could not be registered. Second, the Commission declared that an ECI cannot invite the Commission to propose a decision not to adopt a legal act such as a proposal not to conclude CETA, or to refrain from proposing a legal act. Such a proposal ‘would not deploy any autonomous legal effect beyond the fact of the legal act at issue not being adopted.’ The negative nature of the ‘Stop TTIP’ proposals, together with the fact that it arguably did not propose ‘legal acts’ as required by Article 11(4) and Article 2(1) ECI Regulation, led to the refusal by the Commission to register it. Notably, the limitations imposed by the Commission are not clearly indicated in the ECI Regulation. Instead, they resulted from the Commission’s own interpretation of the ECI’s legal framework.

After the Commission’s rejection, the ‘Stop TTIP’ organisers followed a twofold course of action: they brought a case before the EU General Court, which is the first instance part of the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU), contesting the Commission’s decision to refuse registration of their Initiative, and they started what they named ‘a self-organised ECI’, which was a campaign to collect signatures outside the contours of the ECI’s legal framework. The campaign went on to collect more than 3 million signatures, which the organisers handed over to the Commission in October 2015.

It becomes apparent from the above overview that the significance of the General Court’s judgment in the Stop TTIP case does not derive only from the question of whether the specific Initiative was wrongly refused registration, but also from the question of whether the ECI’s scope to propose EU action was rightly limited by the Commission beyond what is explicitly written in the ECI Regulation. In this sense, the General Court’s judgment is a milestone both for the ECI organisers themselves and for the functioning of the ECI as a mechanism for citizens’ participation. This short commentary will touch upon the key aspects of the judgment.

The arguments of the parties

The applicants in the case made two main arguments. They claimed that the Commission (i) breached Article 11(4) TEU and Article 4(2)(b) of the ECI Regulation, and (ii) breached the principle of equal treatment (Article 20 of the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights) because it had registered in the past the ‘Swissout’ Initiative which had very similar objectives with ‘Stop TTIP’. The judgment focused on the first ground of review and did not deal at all with the second.

In support of their claim, the applicants brought forward three main arguments. Firstly, they argued that the Council’s Decisions authorising the conclusion of an international agreement under Article Article 218(5) TFEU is not a preparatory act. With regard to the Initiative proposals concerning the CETA negotiations, which were already taking place at the time of the request for registration, a Decision by the Council to the Commission not to conclude CETA would not be a preparatory act but an act with legally binding effects. Regarding the Initiative proposals concerning a proposal by the Commission to the Council to repeal the Decision authorising the negotiations for TTIP, such a Decision would result to the termination of the negotiations, and would have been final and legally binding. In any case, the scope of an ECI should not be limited to proposing legal acts with definitive, legally binding effects vis-Ă -vis third parties. Neither the background to the ECI Regulation, nor the ECI’s overall regulatory framework call for such a restrictive reading of the term ‘legal acts’ (para 12).

Secondly, the applicants argued against the Commission’s position that an ECI cannot concern acts that deploy legal effects only between the institutions concerned. For the purposes of the ECI, the term ‘legal act’ should be defined broadly in light of Articles 288 – 292 TFEU, and should include Commission’s Decisions that are outside the ordinary legislative process (para 13).

Thirdly, the applicants referred to the potentially ‘destructive effect’ of the proposed Initiative on the negotiations for TTIP and CETA. This alleged ‘destructive effect’ cannot be put forward as a ground for refusal under the rationale that the Initiative’s proposals did not have the purpose of implementing the Treaties. In the view of the applicants, ‘the right of citizens to participate in the democratic life of the Union includes the possibility of citizens acting with the purpose of modifying, reforming, ratifying, or asking for a partial or total annulment of EU law’ (para 14).

The Commission’s main counter-arguments supported the position expressed in its 2014 letter of response to the organisers. The Commission reiterated its position that the Council Decision to approve the opening of negotiations for an international agreement is only preparatory because it only produces legal effects between the two EU institutions. Based on a ‘systematic and teleological interpretation’ of Articles 2(1) and 4(2)(b) of the ECI Regulation, it can be concluded that an act of preparatory character falls outside the definition of a ‘legal act’ for the purposes of registering an ECI (para 19). This argument was further supported by the assertion that the notion of democratic participation in the EU refers to the participation of citizens only in matters which (potentially) fall under their legal sphere. Instead, the Council and the Commission enjoy sufficient democratic legitimacy to be the ones to adopt acts that affect the relationship between the EU institutions (para 20).

In addition, the Commission repeated its argument that an ECI cannot ask it not to propose a particular legal act or to propose a decision for the non-adoption of a legal act. Interestingly, it referred to Article 10(1)(c) of the ECI Regulation which deals with the final stage of the ECI process, whereby the Commission is obliged to issue a Communication setting out ‘the action it intends to take, if any’. From this, the Commission concluded that only ECIs that aim to the adoption of a legal act or to the repeal of an existing legal act can be registered. Otherwise, a declaration by the Commission that, as a response to an ECI, it does not aim to propose the adoption of a legal act would have excessively limited the Commission’s monopoly of legislative initiative. According to this argument, an ECI asking for the Council to repeal a Decision opening the negotiations or asking it not to conclude an agreement, would have been an ‘unacceptable interference’ in an on-going legislative procedure (para 21).

The judgment of the General Court

The General Court began with a reference to the ECI’s legal framework. It mentioned Article 11(4) TEU, and the ECI Regulation, specifically Article 2(1) (definition of the ECI), Article 4(2)(b) (the legal admissibility test), and Article 10(1)(c) (the obligation of the Commission to respond to a successfully submitted ECI) (paras 23-27). It then explained that the ECI organisers had not asked the Commission not to submit a proposal to the Council for the signing and conclusion of TTIP and CETA. Instead, the organisers asked the Commission to submit to the Council two proposals: (a) a proposal to recall the authorisation for the opening of negotiations for TTIP; and (b) a proposal not to authorise the signing of TTIP and CETA and thus not to conclude these agreements (para 28). As such, the Court also clarified that the current case did not contest the competence of the Commission to negotiate TTIP and CETA. Instead, it was a challenge to the reasons given by the Commission for the refusal of the proposal (para 29).

Subsequently, the Court specified that the Commission has the competence to act in the way asked by the applicants, i.e. to submit to the Council the two proposals (paras 30-32), and went on to deal with the question of whether these actions can be excluded from an ECI either because they are preparatory acts, or because they are not necessary for the implementation of the Treaty, as the Commission had argued (para 33).

On the definition of a ‘legal act’ for the purposes of an ECI, the Court sided with the applicants: the notion of ‘legal act’ in Article 11(4) TEU, and Articles 2(1) and 4(2)(b) of the ECI Regulation cannot be interpreted to include only final EU acts with legally binding effects vis-Ă -vis third parties. The Commission’s position is not justified by the letter of the law or by the overall purpose of these provisions. This was all the more so since the actions in question, which concerned the conclusion of an international agreement, fit squarely into the definition of a ‘Decision’ in accordance with Article 288(4) TFEU, as clarified in Case 114/12 Commission v Council. Besides, a broad interpretation of ‘legal act’ is mandated by the democratic principle on which the EU is founded (Article 2 TEU) (paras 35-37).

In addition, the Court rejected the Commission’s argument that the Initiative could not have been registered because the suggested actions did not aim to the implementation of the Treaties and thus were destructive to the law-making process. According to the Court, there is nothing in Article 11(4) TEU or Article 2(1) ECI Regulation indicating that citizens cannot act through an ECI in order to prevent the adoption of a legal act. Furthermore, the conclusion of TTIP and CETA would have modified the EU legal order. As such, by advocating to stop the two agreements, the ‘Stop TTIP’ organisers were actually acting for the implementation of the current Treaties (para 41). In any case, Initiatives that propose the non-signature and non-conclusion of an international agreement produce legal effects since they may prohibit the modification of EU law intended by the said agreement (para 43).

Lastly, even though the Court did not explicitly address the applicants’ second claim on the unequal treatment of their Initiative in comparison with the Swissout Initiative, it did address the paradoxical situation that resulted from the treatment of the two Initiatives. This paradox resulted from the fact that, according to the Commission’s interpretation, an ECI could propose the termination of an existing international agreement but not the termination of the negotiations towards such agreement. The Court took a citizen-friendly approach in saying that citizens should not be obliged to wait until an agreement is concluded before they can contest the conclusion of the agreement through an ECI (para 44). In this sense, the Court has put proposals asking for the termination of negotiations on a par with those asking for the opening of negotiations, and has interpreted the scope of the ECI as being capable of encompassing both type of proposals.

Commentary

I had commented on an earlier publication that the ‘Stop TTIP’ case was a good opportunity for the CJEU to step in and point out the correct interpretation of Article 4(2)(b) of the ECI Regulation regarding proposals concerning the conclusion of international agreements. It would seem that the General Court has seized that opportunity. The judgment widens the scope of the ECI by completely overruling the Commission’s interpretation of legal admissibility in the particular context. In this sense, the judgment is a positive and constructive development not only for the ECI organisers, who had been waiting for it for almost three years, but also for those interested in starting an ECI campaign on a topic related to an international agreement, as well as for ECI stakeholders who have been calling for a more flexible legal admissibility test.

What makes the case especially interesting is the extensive reliance of the Court on the nature of the ECI as a democratic participation mechanism that intends to foster democratic dialogue and give citizens the opportunity to address the Commission in order to request action. For instance, the Court implicitly rejected the Commission’s first argument that a potential breach of Article 11(4) TEU was irrelevant and that the only relevant legal text should be the ECI Regulation which is based on Article 24 TFEU and stipulates the details of the legal admissibility test. Both the Court’s interpretation of ‘legal acts’ for the purposes of registering an ECI (paras 35-36) and that of ‘implementing the Treaties’ (para 41) relies on a joint reading of Article 11(4) TEU and the relevant provisions of the ECI Regulation. The Court even considered the ECI in light of the fundamental principle of democracy as included in the Preamble of the Treaty and the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights in order to broaden the scope of the right to bring an ECI beyond the Commission’s delineation (para 37).

In addition, the Court has held a more restrictive view than the Commission on what is an ‘unacceptable interference with the adoption of a legal act’ when it comes to an ECI. According to the Court, the very notion of citizens’ participation in the democratic life of the EU - of which the ECI is part - includes the possibility to ask for the modification, as well as the partial or total repeal of legal acts. A true form of citizens’ participation in the democratic life of the EU should give the opportunity to citizens to obstruct, or interfere with, the adoption of a legal act. Since it is entirely up to the Commission to decide the follow-up of a successfully submitted ECI after the public hearing of that ECI (Article 10 ECI Regulation), it could not be said that the registration of ‘Stop TTIP’ would have been an unacceptable interference with the legislative process or that it would have breached the principle of institutional balance (paras 45-46). It would seem, therefore, that the Court has taken into consideration the overall discretion of the Commission at the end of the ECI process when interpreting the legal admissibility test, which takes place at the beginning.

Given that this is only the second time that the General Court annuls a Commission’s decision to reject a proposed ECI, the answer to the question ‘what happens now?’ is not entirely clear. After the Minority SafePack case, the Commission registered the part of the ECI that it considered admissible. As a response to the judgment, the Commission also issued a Decision elaborating on its reasons for only registering part of the ECI. The situation this time around is more complicated. As mentioned above, the ‘Stop TTIP’ organisers went ahead with collecting signatures despite the refusal of their ECI. Impressively, within one year (October 2014 – October 2015) the campaign collected around 3.3 million signatures, more than any of the formally registered ECIs. Subsequently, the organisers stated in their website: ‘we demand that the European Commission treat us like a regular ECI which means we expect an official response from the European Commission and a public hearing in the European Parliament.’ The Commission is now faced with interesting dilemmas: Will it register the ECI or pursue the case further by appealing before the European Court of Justice? If it does register the ECI, will it accept the collected signatures or will it oblige the organisers to start over? In its plans to propose revisions to the ECI in the near future, will the Commission try to overturn the new judgment – or accept and fully incorporate it?

The factor of time also makes the upcoming Commission’s response to this case particularly noteworthy. Between 2014 and 2017 we have seen major developments with regard to TTIP and CETA, including 15 negotiating rounds on TTIP up to October 2016 and a proposal in July 2016 by the Commission to the Council for the signature and conclusion of CETA. More recently, the European Parliament voted in favour of CETA after Wallonia nearly blocked the agreement. All of these developments are in fact the exact opposite of what the ‘Stop TTIP’ organisers were requesting in their proposal, which indicates the importance of momentum to an ECI’s overall success.

On a final note, I wonder what the implications of the General Court’s judgment are with regard to future ECIs relating to Brexit. It would seem that the judgment has opened the door to ECI proposals objecting to a possible future agreement on the UK-EU relationship, assuming that such an agreement will be eventually negotiated on the basis of Article 207 and 218 TFEU. Of course we have a long way to go before this issue even becomes relevant – if it ever becomes relevant at all. However, such a scenario would certainly open a new dimension to citizens’ participation and voice in the Brexit process. Meanwhile, let’s see how the Commission will respond to Stop TTIP and how the organisers will continue their campaign.

Photo credit: Stop TTIP
Barnard & Peers: chapter 24



[1] The judgment is not available in English yet. This commentary is based on my own translation from the Greek version and any translation errors are mine.
[2] I had elaborated on the Commission’s Decision in an older publication: A.Karatzia “The European Citizens’ Initiative in practice: Legal admissibility concerns” (2015) 40 EL Rev. 509, pp. 516-518