Tuesday, 22 December 2015

Standing up for children? The Directive on procedural safeguards for children suspected or accused in criminal proceedings



If we don't stand up for children, then we don't stand for much.
Marian Wright Edelman

Debbie Sayers, Legal Research Consultant, http://interalia.org.uk

Effective human rights protection is fundamental to any concept of fairness in the criminal justice system. Fairness, however, is relative: it may require different levels of protection in different circumstances.

Children require special measures of protection to take account of their particular vulnerability and needs (UN CRC Committee, General Comment 10, para 10). International standards confirm state obligations in this regard (e.g. UN Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC), UN Standard Minimum Rules for the Administration of Juvenile Justice, the Council of Europe Guidelines of the Committee of Ministers of the Council of Europe on child-friendly justice.). The need for extra protection has also been confirmed by the ECtHR which has stated that the right to a fair trial under Article 6 requires that: “a child charged with an offence is dealt with in a manner which takes full account of his age/level of maturity and intellectual and emotional capacities and that steps are taken to promote his ability to understand and participate in the proceeding”(T v. UK, No. 24724/94, 16 December 1999, at [84]).

The Commission states that approximately 1 million children face criminal justice proceedings in the EU each year (around 12% of the total) (Commission Staff Working Document 2013). It has gathered data on child justice and its reports shows wide variability in practice and procedure between States. The EU has now agreed the text of a Directive to establish specific procedural safeguards for child suspects. This is the fifth in a series of six EU-specific standards, all in the form of Directives, which have been agreed under a Roadmap for strengthening the procedural rights in criminal proceedings (on the fourth measure, on presumption of innocence, see discussion here; on the sixth proposal, on legal aid, see discussion here). The Directives attempt to promote consistency in procedural protection within the criminal justice systems of EU Member States. Measure E of the Roadmap requires special safeguards to be created for vulnerable suspects. A Recommendation setting out procedural safeguards for vulnerable persons has already been published. This post deals with the recently agreed Directive on child suspects.

The Directive

The Directive is a lengthy and rather complex document with 39 Recitals and 25 operative Articles. The text has now been agreed subject to reservations by Romania (in relation Article 2(3) and Article 9 (1)) and by Poland (in relation to Article 6(8) (b)). Ireland, the UK and Denmark are not participating in the instrument. Member States will have three years to transpose the Directive from the date of its entry into force (Article 23). [Update; the Directive was officially adopted in April 2016].

The Directive’s purpose is “to establish procedural safeguards to ensure that children who are suspected or accused in criminal proceedings are able to understand and follow those proceedings, to enable such children to exercise their right to a fair trial and to prevent re-offending by children and foster their social integration” (Recital 1). Children already benefit from all the human rights guarantees available to adults but the Directive notes that “experience has shown that this in itself does not always provide a sufficient degree of trust in the criminal justice systems of other Member States” (Recital 3). The ECHR remains the baseline for any assessment of the efficacy of new standards. Recital 35 notes that a “higher level of protection should not constitute an obstacle to the mutual recognition of judicial decisions that those minimum rules are designed to facilitate. The level of protection should never fall below the standards provided by the Charter or by the ECHR, as interpreted in the case law of the Court of Justice of the European Union and the European Court of Human Rights.”

Legislation which promotes children’s rights is welcome. However, to be of genuine value, a separate document for child suspects should add to and build on existing standards in a child specific way. It must also address the obstacles which prevent current standards working: it must prioritise the best interests of the child and remove any vagueness and discretion which may facilitate non-compliance. Fundamentally, it must also be effectively implemented in practice. This post will consider some of the key elements of the Directive. It will conclude that the picture is not entirely rosy.

Scope

Article 3 defines a “child” as “a person below the age of 18 years”.  The relevant point at which age is assessed is the age at which the individual becomes subject to proceedings (Recitals 8 and 9) rather than the age at the time of the offence. In the case of uncertainty, there is a presumption that the person is a child. Under Article 2(3), the Directive also applies where a child comes of age during proceedings but only where the application of the Directive, or some of its provisions, “is appropriate in the light of all the circumstances of the case, including the maturity and vulnerability of the person concerned”. Even then. however, Member States may decide that this Directive does not apply when the person reaches 21. The Directive simply “encourages” Member States to apply the procedural safeguards where the person is older than 18 and below 21. The UN Committee on the CRC has stated in General Comment 10 that “every person under the age of 18 years at the time of the alleged commission of an offence must be treated in accordance with the rules of juvenile justice”. It is very disappointing that the Directive fails to follow this approach.

The Directive lays down “minimum rules” for children in criminal and in European Arrest Warrant (EAW) proceedings (Article 1). It does not affect national rules determining the age of criminal responsibility (Article 2(5)). It applies from the time children are suspected or accused in criminal proceedings until the final determination of the case including sentencing and appeal (Article 2 (1)).  The Directive also applies to children who are not suspects or accused persons but who, in the course of questioning by the police or by another law enforcement authority, become so (Article 2(4)). This mirrors Article 2(3) of the Directive on the right of access to a lawyer.

Article 17 confirms that the rights set out in Articles 4, 5, 6, 8, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 and 18 of the Directive also apply to EAW proceedings from the time of arrest in the executing Member State (Article 17). It should also be remembered that, although the Directive seeks to give children rights in EAW proceedings, Article 3(3) of the Framework Decision on the EAW actually provides a ground for mandatory non-execution of the EAW where a person, “owing to his age” cannot be held criminally responsible for the acts on which the arrest warrant is based under the law of the executing State.

Another concern is that the Directive restricts its application in respect of minor offences (Recitals 11a-11c). Article 2(5a) confirms that, in respect of minor offences, where Member States’ law provides for a sanction by to be imposed by “an authority other than a court having jurisdiction in criminal matters” and the imposition of such a sanction may be appealed or referred to such a court or where deprivation of liberty cannot be imposed as a sanction, the Directive only applies to the proceedings before a court having jurisdiction in criminal matters. A ‘minor’ offence is not defined and there is no penalty threshold. In C-60/12 Baláž, 14 November 2013 confirmed that ‘having jurisdiction in criminal matters’ means that a court “must apply a procedure which satisfies the essential characteristics of criminal procedure, without, however, it being necessary for that court to have jurisdiction in criminal matters alone” (at [36]). This is “an autonomous concept of Union law” (at [42]).

It is disappointing that the Directive is only guaranteed to “fully apply” where a child is deprived of liberty irrespective of the stage of the criminal proceedings. The restrictions on minor offences mirror those in other Directives (Article 1 (3) of the Directive on the Right to Interpretation and Translation, Article 2(2) of the Directive of the Right to Information, and Article 2 (4) of the Directive on the Right of Access to a Lawyer). But there is no justification for the imposition of this clause and no explanation of how it sits with current ECHR obligations. In terms of the exemption for ‘minor offences’, the ECtHR does not distinguish between different types of offences: the protection afforded by Article 6 is engaged as soon as a ‘criminal charge’ is brought against an individual. Engel and Others v The Netherlands No. 5100/71, 8 June 1976 confirms that, when determining whether a ‘criminal charge’ exists, specific criteria will be considered: (a) the classification of the offence under the domestic legal system; (b) the nature of the offence; and (c) the potential nature and severity of the penalty. Even a seemingly minor offence may have serious consequences for the child. It is disappointing to apply this unnecessarily restrictive approach to a document designed to protect vulnerable suspects.

Rights

The Directive sets out a series of rights.

Right to information: Article 4 creates a duty to inform child suspects “promptly” about their rights in Directive of the Right to Information and about general aspects of the conduct of the proceedings. The Letter of Rights required by Directive of the Right to Information should also set out a child’s rights under this Directive (Article 4(2)).

Article 4 distinguishes between those rights in the Directive which children are to be informed about “promptly” and those they are to be informed about at the at the “earliest appropriate stage in the proceedings”. There is no justification for such a distinction. Further, worryingly, under Article 4 (1a), this information can be given orally rather than in writing which undermines the protection. There is no requirement that either an appropriate adult or lawyer is present when this information is handed over or that the information is given in a child-friendly form (the Directive merely talks of “simple and accessible language”). The  Council of Europe Guidelines on child friendly justice require information and advice to be provided in a manner adapted to their age and maturity, in a language which they can understand and which is gender- and culture-sensitive. This is particularly important when the age of criminal responsibility varies wildly within the EU (e.g. it is 10 in England and 15 in Denmark).  Handing information to a child is no guarantee they will be able to understand or use it and a process to verify the child’s comprehension should have been established.

Right of the child to have the holder of parental responsibility informed: Article 3 defines the “holder of parental responsibility” (PR) to mean “any person having parental responsibility over a child”. Parental responsibility means “all rights and duties relating to the person or the property of a child which are given to a natural or legal person by judgment, by operation of law or by an agreement having legal effect. The term includes rights of custody and rights of access.”

Under Article 5, the state must ensure that the holder of parental responsibility is provided “as soon as possible” with the information that the child receives in accordance with Article 4 (see also Recitals 15 and 15a). However, Article 5(2), provides specific grounds for using another appropriate adult, albeit one nominated by the child and accepted as such by the competent authority. The grounds include:  if (a) it would be contrary to the best interests of the child to provide it to the holder of PR or (b) no holder of parental responsibility can be reached after reasonable efforts have been made to do so or his or her identity is unknown or (c) because, on the basis of objective and factual circumstances, providing information to the holder of PR could substantially jeopardise the criminal proceedings to provide it to the holder of PR.

Further, if the child has not nominated another appropriate adult, or if this nominated adult is not acceptable to the competent authority, “taking into account the best interests of the child”, the competent authorities may provide the information to another person, including someone from an authority or responsible for the protection or welfare of children. As soon as any of these grounds cease to exist, the information should be provided to the holder of PR. Provisions which too readily allow the state to appoint the adult supporting the child are of concern.

Right to assistance by a lawyer: The ECtHR has confirmed that, in order for the right to a fair trial to remain “practical and effective”, access to a lawyer should be provided from the first police interrogation (Salduz v. Turkey, No. 36391/02, 27 November 2008). Suspects are particularly vulnerable at the investigation stage and evidence gathered may determine the outcome of the case. The right of access to legal assistance is particularly important for vulnerable suspect such as minors (see for example, S.C. v. the United Kingdom, No. 60958/00, 15 June 2004).

Article 6 re-affirms the right of access to a lawyer. It also confirms that the right is about exercising the “rights of defence effectively” (Article 1a.). Under Article 6(2), this assistance should occur “without undue delay once [Member States] are made aware that they are suspected or accused of having committed a criminal offence” from whatever point is earliest: (a) before they are questioned by the police or by another law enforcement or judicial authority; (b) upon the carrying out by investigating or other competent authorities of an investigative or other evidence-gathering act in accordance with point (c) of paragraph 3; (c) without undue delay after deprivation of liberty; (d) where they have been summoned to appear before a court having jurisdiction in criminal matters, in due time before they appear before that court.

Under Article 6(3) (see also Recital 16a), assistance “includes” (so is not limited to): the right to meet in private and communicate with the lawyer representing them. The confidentiality of communications between the child and their lawyer is protected under Article 6(4) (see also Recitals 17c and 17d); the right to be assisted by a lawyer when they are questioned, and that “the lawyer can participate effectively during questioning” (as with other Directives this participation is “shall be in accordance with procedures under national law); and the right to be assisted by a lawyer during investigative or evidence-gathering act such as: (i) identity parades; (ii) confrontations; (iii) reconstructions of the scene of a crime.

However, Recital 16b also sets out the circumstances in which the right to a lawyer does not arise, e.g. including verifying the child’s identity, whether they have a weapon or taking fingerprints or photographs. These acts potentially carry significant consequences and it is unhelpful to have limited the scope in this way.

Further, despite the importance of this right, a series of derogations and discretionary provisions potentially undercut the protection. For example, there is a proportionality clause in Article 6 (5) (see also Recital 17) which permits Member States, provided that this is in conformity with the right to a fair trial, to derogate from the obligations set out in Article 6(2) where assistance by a lawyer “is not proportionate in the light of the circumstances of the case, taking into account the seriousness of the offence, the complexity of the case and the measures that could be  taken in respect of the alleged offence, it being understood that the best interests of the child shall always be a primary consideration”. Further, under Article 6(8), “in exceptional circumstances and only at the pre-trial stage”, Member States may temporarily derogate from the duty to provide the assistance of a lawyer “to the extent justified in the light of the particular circumstances of the case” on one of the following “compelling reasons”: (a) where there is an urgent need to avert serious adverse consequences for the life, liberty or physical integrity of a person; (b) where immediate action by the investigating authorities is imperative to prevent substantial jeopardy to criminal proceedings in relation to a serious offence. In applying this paragraph “the best interests of the child” must be taken into account. This can only be decided on “a case-by-case basis” either by a judicial authority or other competent authority on condition that the decision can be submitted to judicial review.

Finally, whereas the Directive on the right to a lawyer permits suspects or accused persons to waive their right, the original Commission proposal prohibited waiver in the case of children. It is disappointing this has been dropped. Ensuring every child gets legal representation would have been an important step forward in ensuring rights are protected.

Right to an individual assessment: Article 7 requires Member States to assess children individually to ensure that their specific needs concerning protection, education, training and social integration are taken into account. The costs are generally to be met by the state (Article 21).  The assessment shall “take into account the personality and maturity of the child, their economic, social and family background, as well as any specific vulnerabilities of the child” (Article 7(2) and Recital 19a). The nature and extent of the assessment will depend on the circumstances of the case (Article 7 (2a)). The assessment should “be carried out with close involvement of the child” and be conducted by “qualified personnel, following, as far as possible, a multidisciplinary approach and involving, where appropriate, the holder of parental responsibility or another appropriate adult and/or specialist professional” (Article 7 (5)). If circumstances change, an assessment may be updated (Article 7(6)).

The individual assessment, which should take place at the earliest appropriate stage of the proceedings and, before indictment (Article 7(4a)), will note information which might be of use by the competent authorities when making decisions about the child.  However, the absence of an early individual assessment will not stop an indictment being presented if this “is in the best interests of the child” provided that the individual assessment is available at the beginning of the trial (Article 7(4b) and Recital 19d). Additionally, derogation from this provision is possible if “warranted by the circumstances of the case, and provided that this is compatible with the child's best interests” (Article 7 (7) and Recital 19e). Again, the creation of rule accompanied by exceptions may compromise consistency.

Right to a medical examination: Children who are deprived of liberty have the right to a medical examination without undue delay (Article 8 and Recital 20). One concern here is that the Directive uses the term ‘undue delay’ rather than requiring the examination to be done promptly (compare this with that set out in in General Comment 10). The examination can be required by the competent authorities or by (a) the child, (b) the holder of PR responsibility or another appropriate adult as referred to in Article 5; or (c) the child’s lawyer (Article 8(2). The costs are generally to be met by the state (Article 21).

The examination is to assess the general mental and physical health of the child. The examination should be as non-invasive as possible and carried out by a physician or another qualified professional. It will be recorded in writing (Article 8 (3)) and may lead to medical assistance or may help determine the capacity of the child to face questioning, other investigative or evidence gathering acts or any measures taken or envisaged against the child (Article 8(1a)). It can be repeated where required (Article 8(4)).
The Directive should have guaranteed a right of access to medical treatment if directed by a doctor.

The restriction of this protection to those who are deprived of their liberty is a concern as medical examinations may be important to any child facing criminal proceedings. Deprivation of liberty is not defined but presumably is intended to relate solely to those detained in prison. In the juvenile justice system, children may also be obliged to reside with foster carers or have their liberty restricted in other very significant ways.  The ECtHR has said that the “difference between deprivation of and restriction upon liberty is … merely one of degree or intensity, and not one of nature or substance” Guzzardi v Italy. No. 7367/76, 6 November 1980. This issue is not addressed in the Directive.

Audio-visual recording of questioning: Member States will have to ensure that questioning of children by police or other law enforcement authorities is audio-visually recorded but only “when this is proportionate in the circumstances of the case, taking into account inter alia whether a lawyer is present or not and whether the child is deprived of liberty or not, it being understood that the child's best interests shall always be a primary consideration” (Article 9 (1) and Recital 21a).  The proportionality condition needlessly weakens this protection by introducing an unacceptably wide scope of discretion and consequently potential variability.

If there is no audio-visually recording, questioning is to be recorded in another appropriate manner, and including “by making written minutes, which are duly verified” (Article 9(2)). By whom? The child? This should have been more clearly set out.

Limitation of deprivation of liberty: Article 10 is a welcome re-confirmation that any “deprivation of liberty of a child at any stage of the proceedings shall be for the shortest appropriate period of time” and that it should be a “last resort”. It also confirms that the “the age and individual situation of the child, and of the particular circumstances of the case” should be taken into account and sets out the need for a reasoned decision and periodic review.  However, these really are the some of the most basic minimum requirements of lawful practice. Article 10 does not define deprivation of liberty, nor does it restate or refer to the clear requirements attached to any deprivation of liberty established by Article 5 ECHR and its case law which are also reflected in Article 48 of the EU Charter not least those concerning the need for prompt determination of the decision to detain.

Article 11 and Recital 25a confirm that competent authorities shall have recourse to alternative measures instead of detention but, again, this requirement is undermined by the requirement that this need only happen “where possible”.

Specific treatment in the case of deprivation of liberty: Article 12 details minimum requirements for children who are detained. They must be held separately from adults “unless it is considered in the child's best interest not to do so” (in accordance with Article 37(c) of the UN CRC). In police custody, there is an additional exception as children need not be held separately if “in exceptional circumstances, it is not possible in practice to do so, provided that this is compatible with the child's best interests” (Article 12 (1a) and Recital 26a). Additionally, Member States have a discretion to hold children separately when they reach the age of 18 years but they must still take into account the child’s individual circumstances as well as the best interests of children who are detained with them (Article 12(2)). However, General Comment 10 confirms that the ‘best interests’ test here should be interpreted narrowly and that “the child’s best interests” does not mean for the convenience of the States parties”. This requirement should have been replicated on the face of the Directive.

When in detention, Article 12(4) and Recitals 26c and 26d require Member States to take appropriate measures to: (a) ensure and preserve their health and their physical and mental development; (b) ensure their right to education and training, including for children with physical, sensory and learning disabilities; (c) ensure the effective and regular exercise of their right to family life; (d) ensure access to programmes that foster their development and their future integration into society; and (e) ensure respect for their freedom of religion or belief. These measures do not go far enough and do not match the standards set out in General Comment 10, paras. 85-89.

Children are also entitled to meet the holder of PR as soon as possible but only “where such meeting is compatible with investigative and operational requirements” and only where the provisions of Article 5 relating to the designation of another appropriate adult have not been applied (Article 12(5)). It is deeply disappointing that operational demands may be placed above a child’s right to see his/her parent/carer.

Timely and diligent treatment of cases: Article 13 requires that all appropriate measures should be taken to ensure that criminal proceedings involving children “are treated as a matter of urgency and with due diligence”. This is in line with ECtHR case law on the right to a trial within a reasonable time. Under Article 18a an effective remedy under national law should be provided in the event of a breach of Directive rights. 

The requirement that appropriate measures should also be taken to ensure that children are “always treated in a manner which protects their dignity and which is appropriate to their age, their special needs, their maturity and level of understanding, and bearing in mind any communication difficulties they may have” (Article 13 (2)) is welcome.

Right to protection of privacy: Article 14 protects the privacy of children during criminal proceedings. Court hearings involving children should ordinarily be held in the absence of the public, or courts or judges to decide to do so. This reflects current human rights standards in Article 6 ECHR (e.g., see T v. UK, No. 24724/94, 16 December 1999) and Article 47 of the EU Charter.

Right of the child to be accompanied by the holder of parental responsibility during the proceedings: Article 15 and Recitals 29 and 29 confirm the right of the child to be accompanied by the holder of PR during court hearings. This can be limited on the same conditions as Article 5(2). Article 15 similarly permits the state to appoint an appropriate adult where an alternative is not acceptable.

Children also have the right to be accompanied during other stages of the proceedings but only where the state considers that: (a) it is in the interest of the child to be accompanied by that person; and (b) the presence of that person will not prejudice the criminal proceedings. The state is given total discretion and the Directive should have been far clearer on a child’s rights in this regard.

Right of children to appear in person at, and participate in, their trial: Article 16 confirms a child’s right to be present at, and participate effectively in, their own trial. This includes giving them the opportunity to be heard and to express their views. If a child is not present at their trial, the Directive provides the right to a new trial, or another legal remedy, in accordance with and under the conditions set out in Directive on the presumption of innocence. The requirements of Article 6 ECHR and Articles 47 and 48 of the EU Charter would require nothing less.

Right to legal aid: Article 18 requires that national law in relation to legal aid guarantees the effective exercise of the right to be assisted by a lawyer as referred to in Article 6. The reference to national law does not help promote standards in view of the widespread inconsistency and variability (leading to the Commission’s Recommendation on the issue). The interests of justice test indicates that free legal assistance may be required for vulnerable groups such as minors (Quaranta v. Switzerland, No. 12744/87, 24 May 1991, para. 35. This could have been clearly restated.

Other provisions

Training: Article 19 deals with training for law enforcement authorities, staff of detention facilities, the judiciary, prosecutors and lawyers. This is a welcome and potentially practical step and should be supported by further EU wide guidance drawn from universal standards.

Data recording: Article 20 requires that Member States send data to the Commission five years after the Directive enters into force (and every three years thereafter) showing how the Directive has been implemented. The absence of reliable data on children’s rights in criminal proceedings has previously been noted by the Commission (see the report here) so this is a welcome obligation.

Conclusion

Clear standards protecting children’s rights are welcome but, based on the summary above, I have the following general concerns:

1.      The failure to mainstream these protections: they are placed in a separate document which will need to be compared with others. Should, they not run like a thread through all the standards? Developing safeguards incrementally may invite inconsistency.
2.      While some of the Directive’s provisions are new and child-specific, others seem to be little more than a reiteration (and sometimes a partial one) of the minimum requirements which exists in relation to all defendants.
3.      The Directive does not always reflect international standards of protection.
4.      The Directive is made potentially less progressive by a series of exceptional and discretionary provisions which may facilitate variable practice.

Additionally, in reality, to make a difference any new standards must actually be enforced in practice. We must ask: will these standards work where others have failed?


Barnard & Peers: chapter 25
JHA4: chapter II.4

Photo credit: http://chelseaclockwallpaper.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/juvenile-justice-system.html

The Fake Client: The case that bamboozled the CJEU





Steve Peers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Barnard & Peers: chapter 10


Photo credit: mission-impossible-tom-cruise-disguise-e1285873148814.jpg

Monday, 21 December 2015

Transfer of personal data relating to income between public institutions – the CJEU's judgment in C-201/14 Bara




Marcin Kotula, Legal Officer at the European Commission

The views expressed are purely those of the author and may not in any circumstances be regarded as stating an official position of the European Commission

Background

In case C-201/14, a preliminary reference from the Court of Appeal in Cluj (Romania), the CJEU was asked to examine a transfer of personal data of the applicants from a public institution to another public institution. The applicants were earning income from self-employment. The information about their declared income was transferred from ANAF (National Tax Administration Agency) to CNAS (National Health Insurance Fund). The CNAS then required the applicants to pay the arrears of contributions to the health insurance regime.

The first three questions of the national court focussed on the interpretation of Article 124 TFEU which relates to economic and budgetary policy and to the issue of the privileged access of public institutions to financial markets. They were found by the CJEU to be unrelated to the object of the national proceedings and in consequence inadmissible. The fourth question however dealt more explicitly with the issue of whether the transfer of the applicants' personal data relating to their income complied with the data protection rules. Hence, the CJEU examined that compliance in particular against the background of Articles 6, 7, 10, 11 and 13 of the data protection Directive (Directive 95/46/EC).

Article 6(1) of the Directive is one of the main points of reference in situations when personal data is passed on from one data controller to another and it specifies, in its point b), that personal data cannot be further processed in a way that is incompatible with the purposes for which it was collected. On the other hand, this Article can be restricted by a legislative measure adopted by a Member State pursuant to Article 13 of the Directive.

Articles 10 and 11 of Directive 95/46 describe what information needs to be provided by the data controller (the natural or legal person which determines the means and purposes of the processing of personal data) to the data subject (the identified or identifiable natural person whose data is processed). These two Articles correspond to the different circumstances in which personal data can be collected by the data controller. Whilst Article 10 refers to the information that needs to be provided when the personal data is collected from the data subject him(her)self Article 11(1) covers the situations where the personal data was collected otherwise than from the data subject.

However, the information obligations under Article 11(1) do not apply in situations envisaged in Article 11(2), thus for example when recording or disclosure of the data is expressly laid down by law. In those situations however the Member State must provide appropriate safeguards.

Article 13 of Directive 95/46 is also of particular importance for the issue of the information that needs to be provided to the data subject. This Article defines which rights and obligations under the Directive can be restricted by the legislation of the Member States and for which reasons. The information obligations of the data controller towards the data subject under both Article 10 and Article 11(1) are also among the rights and obligations that can be restricted. In principle, the possible reasons for restricting rights refer to certain public interest objectives. The reasons which appeared the most relevant for the case in question are laid down in Article 13(e) and (f).  Article 13(e) allows the Member States to adopt restrictions when these are necessary to safeguard an important economic or financial interest of a Member State or of the EU, including monetary, budgetary and taxation matters while Article 13(f) permits restrictions when necessary to safeguard monitoring, inspection or a regulatory function that is connected, even occasionally, with the exercise of official authority in for example monetary, budgetary or taxation matters.

The CJEU's analysis

At the beginning of the judgment the CJEU recalled some of its case-law about the basic concepts of data protection law such as the definitions of "personal data" and of "processing". In that part of the judgment it also reiterated the primary importance of Articles 6 and 7 of the Directive which set out the principles of legitimate and fair processing of personal data. The CJEU found that the principle of the fair processing of personal data, enshrined in Article 6, implies that the data subjects need to be informed about the transfer of their personal data from one public institution to another.

The CJEU then turned specifically to the analysis of the requirements of Article 10 and 11 of the Directive. This means that there were two types of processing of personal data which were relevant in this case. On the one hand, it was the transfer of the applicants' income data by the tax administration which collected it. On the other hand, it was the processing of the transferred data by the health insurance fund. Whilst Article 10 is applicable to the first type of processing the second one is covered by Article 11.

In its analysis of Article 10 the CJEU pointed out that under this Article the data subject must be informed about the purposes of the processing for which the personal data are intended. In addition, insofar as it is necessary to guarantee fair processing of the data, the data subject must also be informed about the recipients of the data and about the existence of various rights. Without this information the data subject could not be in a position to exercise the rights that have been set out in Articles 12 (right to access his/her personal data, to request the rectification or erasure of unlawfully processed personal data) and 14 (right to object to the processing in certain circumstances).

The CJEU's assessment on this point led it to conclude that the tax administration did not inform the applicants that their income data would be transferred to the health insurance fund. Whilst it was argued in the proceedings that a Romanian Law requires the authorities and public institutions to transfer to the health insurance fund the data necessary for determining whether a person qualifies as an insured person the CJEU considered that the scope of data that needs to be transferred pursuant to this Law does not cover personal data relating to income. This was so because persons without taxable income also qualify as insured persons. In consequence thus it was found that the Romanian Law in question could not constitute an information which complies with Article 10 of the Directive.
The CJEU then looked into the issue of whether this failure to comply with Article 10 could nevertheless be legalised on the basis of a restriction adopted by Romania pursuant to Article 13 of the Directive.

Out of the Article 13 reasons that could justify restricting the rights and obligations under the Directive the CJEU identified “an important economic or financial interest of a Member State (…) including monetary, budgetary or taxation matters”, i.e. the reason set out in Article 13(e) and  “a monitoring, inspection or regulatory function connected, even occasionally, with the exercise of official authority in cases related to (inter alia) in (e)”, i.e. the reason laid down in Article 13(f) as the ones that might have been applicable to the case in question. The CJEU found however that these two reasons could not legalise the non-compliance with Article 10 of the Directive because the restrictions based on them have to be imposed in the legislation of the Member State. This requirement was not met in the applicants' case given that the Romanian Law, invoked in the proceedings, only envisaged the principle of transfer of personal data relating to income from the authorities, public institutions and other institutions to the health insurance fund. The definition of transferable information and the detailed transfer arrangements were however laid down in a different measure, namely a Protocol agreed between the tax administration and the health insurance. This Protocol was not even officially published. On top of that, the CJEU noted again that data relating to income are not necessary for the determination if a person is insured.

Next, the CJEU scrutinised the processing in question against the requirements of Article 11(1) of the Directive. Under this Article the health insurance fund which received the personal data relating to income would need to inform the applicants that it acts as the data controller of the data in question and about the purposes of the processing of that data. To the extent that it is necessary to guarantee fair processing of the data the health insurance fund would additionally need to inform the applicants in particular about the categories of data concerned.

Since no such information was supplied to the applicants the CJEU examined whether this failure to comply with Article 11(1) of the Directive could be legalised under Article 13 or Article 11(2). The conclusion proved to be identical as the one reached with regard to Article 10.  Already before it became clear that the definition of transferable information and the detailed transfer arrangements were laid down in a Protocol concluded between the two public institutions and not in a legislative measure and therefore the benchmark for applying a restriction on the basis of Article 13 was not met.

The same was said with reference to a possible derogation under Article 11(2). This Article also requires a law for derogating from Article 11(1) which in addition must be accompanied by appropriate safeguards. In the case in question there was no law which included the required elements. Hence the derogation stipulated in Article 11(2) could not apply either.

Comments

In contrast to many other recent CJEU judgments related to personal data protection (Data Retention [Digital Rights Ireland], Google Spain, Safe Harbour [Schrems]) Bara was decided without any specific references to Charter Articles 7 and 8 which deal with the right to private life and the right to the protection of personal data respectively. The issue at stake in Bara seems to have been sufficiently comprehensively addressed already in the provisions of Directive 95/46 itself without the need to look into the Charter for additional elements of interpretation.

In essence, in Bara the CJEU followed its previous case-law on the relation between the data subject's right to access his/her personal data, as laid down in Article 12(a) of Directive 95/46, and the other rights conferred on the data subject in the Directive. Those other rights include inter alia the rights to request erasure, rectification or blocking of the data and to object to the processing of personal data, laid down in Articles 12(b) and 14 respectively. In the CJEU's previous case-law (Rijkeboer, YS and Others (discussed here and here), the latter rights were seen as dependent on the availability of the right of access because without the information about the processing of their personal data and about the various parameters of that processing the data subjects are much less likely to be in a position to exercise any rights. The same logic can be transposed to the information that the data controller is required to provide to the data subject under Articles 10 and 11(1) of the Directive since the type of information specified in those two Articles can also be seen as essential to the exercise of the other rights of the data subject.

The CJEU searched for possible derogations in Articles 13 and 11(2) of the Directive but found that neither of them could justify the non-compliance with the information obligations under Articles 10 and 11(1). As both Article 13 and 11(2) specify that derogations or restrictions can only be imposed by law and not by a measure of a lower status there was no basis for a valid derogation or restriction in the applicants' case. Indeed, the most important parameters of the transfer of the applicants' personal data relating to their income were set out in an administrative arrangement (which was not officially published) concluded between the tax administration agency which collected that data and the health insurance fund to which it was transferred.

Would the situation be different had the restrictions been adopted in a legislative measure, as required in Article 13 of the Directive? On the one hand, the restrictions stipulated in Article 13(e) and (f) seem to be particularly well-suited for the purposes of the exchange of information relating to taxation matters. On the other hand, when analysing the possibility of applying the Article 13 restrictions in this case, the CJEU noted that data relating to income are not part of the personal data necessary for the determination of whether a person is insured. Necessity however is required both for adopting a restriction under Article 13 of the Directive and for processing personal data on a legitimate basis under Article 7. Thus, this sentence of the judgment could either mean that the restriction was simply not necessary in this case or rather that the whole processing of data relating to income by the health insurance fund was not necessary. If the latter meaning is correct an Article 13 restriction could not have applied at all in this case because Article 13 does not constitute a basis for restricting Article 7. In any event, in the Advocate General's opinion it was the task of the national court to verify if the processing of this data by the health insurance fund was necessary.

In its analysis the CJEU relied quite heavily also on the requirement of the fair processing of personal data which is among the data protection principles in Article 6 of the Directive. In paragraph 34 of the Bara judgment the CJEU states that the obligation of a public institution to inform the data subjects about the transfer of their personal data to another public institution derives already from this principle of the fair processing of personal data.

It might be interesting to note that the text adopted by the European Parliament in the first reading of the new Data Protection Regulation specifies what elements must be included in a legislative measure adopted by a Member State (pursuant to Article 21 of the proposed new rules) to restrict rights and obligations under the data protection rules. The new data protection framework, including a list of these elements in Article 21(2), now seems destined for adoption after an agreement on the compromise text was reached between the Commission, the European Parliament and the Council on 15 December and confirmed by the EP LIBE Committee and the Coreper a few days later.



Photo credit: europarl.europa.eu

Sunday, 20 December 2015

Latin American implications for immigrant detention in Europe: comparing Celaj and Vélez Loor



Dr Andrea Romano, Research assistant, “Sapienza” University of Rome

Introduction

The Celaj judgement and its controversial relationship with the earlier case law of the Court of Justice on the Returns directive has been persuasively discussed in this blog (see Majcher). This commentary focuses on a brief comparison between that judgment and the Vélez Loor case decided by the Inter-American Court of Human Rights in 2010 (hereinafter IACtHR).

The judgment of the Court of Justice of the European Union in Celaj originated from one of the several preliminary rulings raised by Italian judicial authorities on the Returns Directive. Now, from an Italian immigration law perspective it has to be noted that the Court of Justice – when requested by means of preliminary rulings – has so far considered deprivations of personal liberty of particular gravity as incompatible with the Returns Directive. Whereas this jurisprudence was drawn upon the principle of effectiveness – i.e. not directly upon a human rights rationale – as a matter of fact it contributed to strengthen the fundamental right of immigrants in an irregular situation (El Dridi, Sagor). However, the Court failed to apply a similar scrutiny in the Celaj case, simply because that case concerned a custodial sentence for breach of an entry ban, rather than a sentence for irregular stay on the territory, as in the earlier cases. And it should be borne in mind that the criminal sanction under scrutiny in the El Dridi judgment (an imprisonment between one and four years) was – prior to the 2011 reform, introduced to comply with El Dridi – exactly the same as that provided for an entry ban violation, which has been now declared consistent with the Returns Directive in the Celaj judgment.

Having said that, the Celaj judgement represents an opportunity to explore a different reasoning and different rationales, allowing to problematize migrants’ detention and the deprivation of their personal liberty. It is well known that the ECtHR has so far maintained a quite deferential position as far as national detention measures for irregular migrants are concerned. In particular, the Court has stated in several judgments that it will not apply the non-arbitrary test (which includes a proportional and necessary scrutiny) to situation falling within the scope of Article 5(1)(f) of the Convention, which concerns the detention of irregular migrants (Saadi v. the United Kingdom). Thus, this case-law does not have a significant impact on Celaj ruling, also because it concerns administrative detention and not criminal imprisonment (see Cornelisse).

If one looks outside the European context, the Vélez Loor case decided from the Inter-American Court of Human Rights suggests instead a challenging set of arguments in favour of a human rights approach in the framework of immigrants’ imprisonment for non-compliance with immigration law.

The multifaceted scrutiny of the deprivation of liberty in the Vélez Loor case

This case concerned an Ecuadorian citizen arrested by the police from Panama while being without a residence permit in that country, and deprived of his personal liberty for several months. In particular, in accordance with the law applicable at that time, he was sentenced to a two-year imprisonment on the ground of his breach of a prior deportation order and connected entry ban from the State of Panama (cf art. 67 and art. 37 of the Law Decree no. 16 of 1960; the Law Decree no. 3 of 2008 has eliminated the imprisonment). Therefore, as in the Celaj judgment, the purpose was to punish the “recidivism” of the migrant.

The Vélez Loor judgement seems to be highly relevant for the European context of irregular immigration, both for its outcome and reasoning. To begin with, the Inter-American Court’s consideration on the vulnerability of immigrants in an irregular situation is striking. As other scholars have already remarked, whereas this concept is familiar to the European Court of Human Rights, the reasoning of the Inter-American Court entails a wider scope (see more in detail Dembour, Beduschi): unlike the ECtHR, which dealt with vulnerability in specific cases, the argument of the IACtHR is not restricted to certain foreigners but involves the whole category of irregular migrants.

Quoting a report of the Special Rapporteur of the Economic and Social Council, the Court notes that migrants in an irregular situation are “the most vulnerable to potential or actual violation of their human rights and because of their situation they suffer a greater lack of protection of their rights” (par. 98). In particular, the Court reflected on the cultural prejudices about irregular migrants that lead to establish a nexus between irregularity and criminality, and the likely impunity in case of their human rights violations. Those negative implications of irregularity highlighted by the Inter-American Court might be seriously taken into account by European and national legislators for (at least) two grounds: on the one hand, the Court’s remarks on the equation between irregular migrants and criminals and its “stigma” effect suggests the importance of reducing differentiated criminal treatment; on the other hand, it might represent a strong argument with a view to reduce irregularity by means of regularization initiatives conducted on an individual basis by Member States or even in the EU’s framework.

Against this background, the Court considers the several human right violations that Mr Vélez Loor suffered (including lack of due process, torture, arbitrary detention). Limiting the attention to the imprisonment as a consequence of a prior deportation order and entry ban, the Court articulates a pervasive scrutiny that leads to the declaration of incompatibility with Article 7(3) of the Convention, (establishing that “no one shall be subject to arbitrary arrest or imprisonment”). First, the purpose of the deprivation of personal liberty and its suitability is considered. The Court makes clear that “the purpose of imposing a punitive measure on an immigrant who re-enters a country in an irregular manner subsequent to receiving a deportation order cannot be considered legitimate purpose according to the Convention” (par. 169). In practice, according to the Court, a personal liberty deprivation, if adopted in order to control migration flows, cannot be declared incompatible with the Convention as such. It is inconsistent only when the punitive purpose prevails over the migration control rationale: this occurs when “criminalizing an irregular entry into a country goes beyond the legitimate interest of States to control and regulate illegal immigration and leads to unnecessary detention” (par. 169).

Furthermore, the Court applies a test of necessity and of proportionality. This is particularly relevant for the European context, as the ECtHR has been so far quite reluctant to make use of such kind of scrutiny, as regards the cases in which immigration detention is concerned (see, for an in-depth analysis: Dembour and Cornelisse). The IACtHR founds the detention of the immigrant unnecessary and disproportionate and affirms that “it is essential that States devise a range of alternative measures” (par. 171). Again, this does not imply a general ban of immigrant detentions but hinders “automatic” detentions and lays down a circumstantiated and individualized evaluation of each case, using detention only as extrema ratio.

Implications for Celaj

In line with the jurisprudence of the Court of Justice the imprisonment of an irregular migrant for non-compliance with immigration laws undermines the principle of effectiveness, representing an obstacle to returns migrants. Whereas this has led several Member States to change their legislation – since their standard of protection of migrants’ rights was far below that ensured by the Returns Directive – many scholars have criticized this functional (or “securitarian”) approach of the Court, affirming that it fails to address fundamental rights and confirms the restrictive approach of the Directive. The IACtHR, conversely, offers a quite opposite reading to pre-empt immigration detention, which is bluntly grounded on a human-rights rationale, by taking a far-reaching account of the purpose and the limits of detention.

Now, according to the Italian legislation, the imprisonment for immigrants convicted for an entry ban violation has no direct link with a migration control objective, since it is not imposed with a view to expulsion. By contrast, the imprisonment of the migrant in that case needs to be framed within the more general purposes of criminal sanctions (such as deterrence or rehabilitation of sentenced people). Therefore, the statement of the IACtHR, affirming that a punitive purpose in the application of an immigrant detention represents a violation of the human right to personal liberty, calls for a reflection on the scope and meaning of such a liberty deprivation in the Italian context and suggests to eliminate prison sentences for non-compliance with immigration law.

Furthermore, it should be recalled that in Italy an entry ban violation might imply a rather long-term imprisonment, ranging from one up to four years. Also, the necessity and proportionality scrutiny carried out by the Inter-American Court is particularly instructive in order to consider the suitability of such a long deprivation of the personal liberty.

Conclusion

In the light of the above, the judgement of the Inter-American Court deserves careful attention with a view of exploring new scenarios against the widespread use of criminal sanctions implying migrants’ imprisonment in Europe.

Naturally, it would be naïve and misleading to advocate a bare transposition of this judgment into the Luxembourg jurisprudence, considering the broad differences between the Court of Justice and the IACtHR. However, one cannot underestimate the scope and relevance of the Inter-American Court’s scrutiny for ongoing difficulties raised by the “crimmigration” phenomenon in Europe. It is sufficient, in this sense, to think about the general assumption that tends to equalizes migrants and criminals, the negative consequences on the functioning of the justice (as noted by Majcher) – which are particularly serious in Italy – and the risk of “chain” detentions – i.e. the possibility of migrants suffering administrative detentions after a prison sentence (and vice versa).

The IACtHR articulates a set of far-reaching remarks, criticizing the punitive purpose of prison sentences, applying a necessity and proportionality test to immigrant detention and emphasising the need for States to seek for alternative measures. Those remarks could be interpreted as a meaningful toolkit in the perspective of enhancing the standard of protection of immigrants’ human rights in an irregular situation at national and European level.



Barnard & Peers: chapter 26
Photo: The Inter-American Court of Human Rights in Costa Rica

Photo credit: www.un.org

Wednesday, 16 December 2015

Zakharov v Russia: Mass Surveillance and the European Court of Human Rights



Lorna Woods, Professor of Internet Law, University of Essex*
Introduction
The European Court of Human Rights has heard numerous challenges to surveillance regimes, both individual and mass surveillance, with mixed results over the years.   Following the Snowden revelations, the question would be whether the ECtHR would take a hard line particularly as regards mass surveillance, given its suggestion in Kennedy that indiscriminate acquisition of vast amounts of data should not be permissible. Other human rights bodies have condemned this sort of practice, as can be seen by the UN Resolution 68/167 the Right to Privacy in the Digital Age. Even within the EU there has been concern as can be seen in cases such as Digital Rights Ireland (discussed here) and more recently in Schrems (discussed here). The Human Rights Court has now begun to answer this question, in the Grand Chamber judgment in Zakharov v. Russia (47143/06), handed down on December 4 2015.
Facts
Zakharov, a publisher and a chairman of an NGO campaigning for media freedom and journalists’ rights, sought to challenge the Russian system for permitting surveillance in the interests of crime prevention and national security. Z claimed that the privacy of his communications across mobile networks was infringed as the Russian State, by virtue of Order No. 70, had required the network operators to install equipment which permitted the Federal Security Service to intercept all telephone communications without prior judicial authorisation.
This facilitated blanket interception of mobile communications. Attempts to challenge this and to ensure that access to communications was restricted to authorised personnel were unsuccessful at national level. The matter was brought before the European Court of Human Rights. He argued that the laws relating to monitoring infringe his right to private life under Article 8; that parts of these laws are not accessible; and that there are no effective remedies (thus also infringing Art. 13 ECHR).
Judgment
The first question was whether the case was admissible. The Court will usually not rule on questions in abstracto, but rather on the application of rules to a particular situation. This makes challenges to the existence of a system, rather than its use, problematic. The Court has long recognised that secret surveillance can give rise to particular features that may justify a different approach. Problematically, there were two lines of case law, one of which required the applicant to show a ‘reasonable likelihood’ that the security services had intercepted the applicant’s communications (Esbester) and which favoured the Government’s position, and the other which suggested the menace provided by a secret surveillance system was sufficient (Klass) and which favoured the applicant.
The Court took the opportunity to try to resolve these potentially conflicting decisions, developing its reasoning in Kennedy. It accepted the principle that legislation can be challenged subject to two conditions: the applicant potentially falls within the scope of the system; and the level of remedies available. This gives the Court a form of decision matrix in which a range of factual circumstances can be assessed. Where there are no effective remedies, the menace argument set out in its ruling in Klass would be accepted.
Crucially, even where there are remedies, an applicant can still challenge the legislation if ‘due to his personal situation, he is potentially at risk of being subjected to such measures’ [para 171]. This requirement of ‘potentially at risk’ seems lower than the ‘reasonable likelihood’ test in the earlier case of Esbester. The conditions were satisfied in this case as it has been recognised that mobile communications fall within ‘private life’ and ‘correspondence’ (see Liberty, para 56, cited here para 173).
This brought the Court to consider whether the intrusion could be justified. Re-iterating the well-established principles that, to be justified, any interference must be in accordance with the law, pursue a legitimate aim listed in Article 8(2) and be necessary in a democratic society, the Court considered each in turn.
The requirement of lawfulness has a double aspect, formal and qualitative. The challenged measure must be based in domestic law, but it must also be accessible to the person concerned and be foreseeable as to its effects (see e.g Rotaru). While these principles are generally applicable to all cases under Article 8 (and applied analogously in other rights, such as Articles 9, 10 and 11 ECHR), the Court noted the specificity of the situation. It stated that:
‘…. domestic law must be sufficiently clear to give citizens an adequate indication as to the circumstances in which and the conditions on which public authorities are empowered to resort to any such measures’ [para 229].
In this, the Court referred to a long body of jurisprudence relating to surveillance, which recognises the specific nature of the threats that surveillance is used to address. In the earlier case of Kennedy for example, the Court noted that ‘threats to national security may vary in character and may be unanticipated or difficult to define in advance’ [para 159].
While the precision required of national law might be lower than the normal standard, the risk of abuse and arbitrariness are clear, so the exercise of any discretion must be laid down by law both as to its scope and the manner of its exercise. It stated that ‘it would be contrary to the rule of law … for a discretion granted to the executive in the sphere of national security to be expressed in terms of unfettered power’ [para 247]. Here, the Court noted that prior judicial authorisation was an important safeguard [para 249]. The Court gave examples of minimum safeguards:
§  The nature of offences which may give rise to an interception order
§  A definition of the categories of people liable to have their telephones tapped
§  A limit on the duration of telephone tapping
§  Protections and procedures for use, storage and examination of resulting data
§  Safeguards relating to the communication of data to third parties
§  Circumstances in which data/recordings must be erased/destroyed (para 231)
§  the equipment installed by the secret services keeps no logs or records of intercepted communication, which coupled with the direct access rendered any supervisory arrangements incapable of detecting unlawful interceptions
§  the emergency procedure provided for in Russian law, which enables interception without judicial authorization, does not provide sufficient safeguards against abuse.
The Court then considered the principles for assessing whether the intrusion was ‘necessary in a democratic society’, highlighting the tension between the needs to protect society and the consequences of that society of the measures taken to protect it. The Court emphasised that it must be satisfied that there are adequate and effective guarantees against abuse.
In this oversight mechanisms are central, especially where individuals will not – given the secret and therefore unknowable nature of surveillance – be in a position to protect their own rights. The court’s preference is to entrust supervisory control to a judge. For an individual to be able to challenge surveillance retrospectively, affected individuals need either to be informed about surveillance or for individuals to be able to bring challenges on the basis of a suspicion that surveillance has taken place.
Russian legislation lacks clarity concerning the categories of people liable to have their phones tapped, specifically through the blurring of witnesses with suspects and the fact that the security services have a very wide discretion. The provisions regarding discontinuation of surveillance are omitted in the case of the security services. The provisions regarding the storage and destruction of data allow for the retention of data which is clearly irrelevant; and as regards those charged with a criminal offence is unclear as to what happens to the material after the trial.
Notably, the domestic courts do not verify whether there is a reasonable suspicion against the person in respect of whose communications the security services have requested interception be permitted. Further, there is little assessment of whether the interception is necessary or justified: in practice it seems that the courts accept a mere reference to national security issues as being sufficient.
The details of the authorisation are also not specified, so authorisations have been granted without specifying – for example – the numbers to be interception. The Russian system, which at a technical level allows direct access, without the police and security services having to show an authorisation is particularly prone to abuse. The Court determined that the supervisory bodies were not sufficiently independent. Any effectiveness of the remedies available to challenge interception of communications is undermined by the fact that they are available only to persons who are able to submit proof of interception, knowledge and evidence of which is hard if not impossible to come by.
Comments
The Court could be seen as emphasising in its judgment by repeated reference to its earlier extensive case law on surveillance that there is nothing new here. Conversely, it could be argued that Zakharov is a Grand Chamber judgment which operates to reaffirm and highlight points made in previous judgments about the dangers of surveillance and the risk of abuse. The timing is also significant, particularly from a UK perspective. Zakharov was handed down as the draft Investigatory Powers Bill was published. Cases against the UK are pending at Strasbourg, while it follows the ECJ’s ruling in Schrems, with Davis (along with the Swedish Tele2 reference), querying whether the Digital Rights ruling applies to national data retention schemes, now pending before the ECJ (on that issue, see discussion here). The ECtHR noted the Digital Rights Ireland case in its summary of applicable law.
In setting out its framework for decisions, the Court’s requirement of ‘potentially at risk’ even when remedies are available seems lower than the ‘reasonable likelihood’ test in Esbester. The Court’s concern relates to ‘the need to ensure that the secrecy of surveillance measures does not result in the measures being effectively unchallengeable and outside the supervision of the national judicial authorities and of the Court’ [para 171]. This broad approach to standing is, as noted by Judge Dedon’s separate but concurring opinion, in marked contrast to the approach of the United States Supreme Court in Clapper where that court ‘failed to take a step forward’ (Opinion, section 4).
The reassessment of ‘victim status’ simultaneously determines standing, the question of the applicability of Article 8 and the question of whether there has been an infringement of that right. The abstract nature of the review then means that a lot falls on the determination of ‘in accordance with the law’ and consequently the question of whether the measures (rather than individual applications) are necessary in a democratic society. The leads to a close review of the system itself and the safeguards built in. Indeed, it is noteworthy that the Court did not just look at the provisions of Russian law, but also considered how they were applied in practice.
The Court seemed particularly sceptical about broadly determined definitions in the context of ‘national, military, economic or ecological security’ which confer ‘almost unlimited degree of discretion’ [para 248]. Although the system required prior judicial authorisation (noted para 259], in this case it was not sufficient counter to the breadth of the powers. So, prior judicial authorisation will not be a ‘get out of gaol free’ card for surveillance systems. There must be real oversight by the relevant authorities.
Further, the Court emphasised the need for the identification of triggering factor(s) for interception of communications, as otherwise this will lead to overbroad discretion [para 248]. Moreover, the Court stated that the national authorisation authorities must be capable of ‘verifying the existence of a reasonable suspicion against the person concerned’ [260-2], which in the context of technological access to mass communications might be difficult to satisfy. The Court also required that specific individuals or premises be identified. If it applies the same principles to mass surveillance currently operated in other European states, many systems might be hard to justify.
A further point to note relates to the technical means by which the interception was carried out. The Court was particularly critical of a system which allows the security services and the police the means to have direct access to all communications. It noted that ‘their ability to intercept the communications of a particular individual or individuals is not conditional on providing an interception authorisation to the communications service provider’ [para 268], thereby undermining any protections provided by the prior authorisation system.
Crucially, the police and security services could circumvent the requirement to demonstrate the legality of the interception [para 269]. The problem is exacerbated by the fact that the equipment used does not create a log of the interceptions which again undermines the supervisory authorities’ effectiveness [para 272]. This sort of reasoning could be applied in other circumstances where police and security forces have direct technical means to access content which is not dependent on access via a service provider (e.g. hacking computers and mobiles).
In sum, not only has the Russian system been found wanting in terms of compliance with Article 8, but the Court has drawn its judgment in terms which raised questions about the validity of other systems of mass surveillance.
*Reblogged with permission from the IALS Information Lawand Policy Centre blog
Barnard & Peers: chapter 9