Could EU law save Paddington Bear? The CJEU develops a new type of protection

 

Steve Peers

Many readers may already be familiar with Colin Yeo’s brilliant blog post, imagining Paddington Bear’s unpleasant encounter with British immigration law. But could EU law save Paddington Bear, in particular by creating a new form of protection for those who have to flee their country of origin?

Background

EU law has regulated in detail two forms of international protection: refugee status (based on the UN’s Geneva Convention) and subsidiary protection status, for those who don’t qualify for refugee status. (There’s also EU legislation providing for temporary protection, but the EU has never used it). But there are people who don’t qualify for either form of status. When do they have a right to stay?

This question is relevant in a number of cases. For instance, Paddington Bear could argue that he was an ‘environmental refugee’, fleeing catastrophic events in his country of origin that were not caused by humans (or even bears). (I’m converting Paddington into a human for the purpose of this blog post, just as Colin does in his). Others might lack a right to stay, but can’t be removed for practical reasons, for instance because they don’t have documents that prove their nationality, and so the country which they probably come from refuses to accept them back. Or they have a serious illness, but the developing country which they come from lacks the resources to treat it: so sending them back would, in practice, amount to a death sentence.

It’s the last of these scenarios which forms the subject of the CJEU’s two recent rulings in M’Bodj and Abdida. (Note that these judgments should be read in that order, and it would be highly misleading to read one but not the other). However, these judgments might well have implications for other groups of people as well – perhaps including even our marmalade-loving bear.

Judgments

In the M’Bodj case, a non-EU citizen, having failed in his requests for asylum and stay on medical grounds in Belgium, was then the victim of a violent attack there. So he requested a disability allowance that was only available, on the facts of his case, if he could show that he was eligible for subsidiary protection. According to the EU’s qualification Directive, subsidiary protection must be granted if the applicant is facing any one of the following three situations: (a) the ‘death penalty or execution’; (b) ‘torture or other inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment of an applicant in the country of origin’; or (c) ‘serious and individual threat to a civilian’s life or person by reason of indiscriminate violence in situations of international or internal armed conflict’. (The EU has more recently adopted a revised qualification Directive, but it didn’t change this particular definition).

The CJEU has previously interpreted the third of these grounds, in its judgments in Elgafaji and Diakite. But it has not yet interpreted the first two grounds. Mr. M’Bodj argued that the second ground applies, on the basis that the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) has interpreted Article 3 ECHR, which equally bans ‘torture or other inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment’, to mean that, in exceptional cases, people who would die if they were sent back to their country of origin, due to the inadequate medical treatment there, cannot be sent back.

However, the CJEU rejected its arguments. In its view, since the qualification Directive listed specific human activities as the source of persecution or serious harm, this form of ‘serious harm’ had to be the result of ‘a form of conduct on behalf of a third party’, so ‘cannot therefore simply be the result of general shortcomings in the health system of the country of origin’. This interpretation was bolstered by the preamble to the Directive, which says in effect that the Directive does not apply to those allowed to stay ‘on a discretionary basis on compassionate or humanitarian grounds’. It did make an exception for cases where the person concerned had been intentionally deprived of health care. Just because the ECtHR interpreted Article 3 ECHR to mean that people in Mr. M’Bodj’s situation could not be removed to their country of origin, that did not mean that they were necessarily entitled to subsidiary protection under the EU Directive.

The Directive does state that Member States can have ‘more favourable standards’ as regards qualifying for refugee or subsidiary protection status than those set out in the Directive. But such higher standards have to be ‘compatible’ with the Directive. In the Court’s view, it would indeed be incompatible with the Directive to give subsidiary protection status to Mr. M’Bodj, since there would be ‘no connection with the rationale of international protection’.

Read in isolation, the M’Bodj case means that those facing awful conditions in their country of origin that were not caused by humans have no right to refugee or subsidiary protection status. Their legal position is governed only by the ban on removal to their country of origin, set out in ECtHR case law, along with whatever limited benefits they may have under purely national law. There are a wide variety of such national law rules, as documented in a study for the European Migration Network. For Paddington Bear, this would mean that he could be sent back to his country of origin, unless the conditions there breached Article 3 ECHR standards. In that case, he could remain in the UK, but probably could not expect a very nice life.

However, the Abdida case, decided on the same day by the CJEU, suggests that in some cases, those who are unable to qualify for subsidiary protection or refugee status can use the EU’s Returns Directive to obtain a different type of protection. Mr. Abdida had similarly claimed that he should receive leave to remain on medical grounds in Belgium, and was appealing against the refusal of this application. While the appeal was pending, he was refused social assistance, on the grounds that it was only available to those whose challenge to their removal had suspensive effect; his challenge did not have that effect under Belgian law.

The national court asked the CJEU to interpret EU asylum legislation, and in light of its judgment in M’Bodj, the CJEU simply said that EU asylum law did not apply. While Member States have an option to apply EU legislation on reception conditions and asylum procedures to other types of applications for protection, Belgium has not chosen to do so.

The CJEU could have left the case there, but it didn’t. Instead, it decided to give the national court a detailed answer to questions it had never asked, on the interpretation of EU legislation that it had never referred to – the Returns Directive, which governs the process of removing irregular migrants from the territory.

First, the Court ruled on Mr. Abdida’s procedural rights. While the Returns Directive does not require legal challenges to removal to have suspensive effect, it was necessary to consider the impact of the EU Charter of Rights, Article 19(2) of which bans removals to States where the person concerned would face a serious risk of inhuman or degrading treatment. This had to be interpreted in light of the ECtHR case law on Article 3 ECHR discussed above, which bans removals on ‘medical grounds’ in exceptional cases.

How does this impact the interpretation of the Returns Directive? Article 5 of that Directive says that when they implement the Directive, ‘Member States shall take due account of: (a) the best interests of the child; (b) family life; (c) the state of health of the [person] concerned, and respect the principle of non-refoulement’. The CJEU ruled that Article 5, ‘taken in conjunction with Article 19(2) of the Charter’, means that Member States ‘may not…proceed with…removal’ where removal ‘would infringe the principle of non-refoulement’ on medical grounds.

This ban on removal had the consequential effect that the remedy against removal hadto be suspensive, despite the optional wording of the Directive on this point, because otherwise Mr. Abdida could suffer irreparable harm if sent back to his country of origin before his appeal was decided.   

Secondly, the CJEU ruled on his social rights. Article 14 of the Directive says that except where irregular migrants are in detention, where they are given a time for voluntary departure or their removal is postponed, Member States must ‘ensure that the following principles are taken into account as far as possible…: (a) family unity with family members present in their territory is maintained; (b) emergency health care and essential treatment of illness are provided; (c) minors are granted access to the basic education system subject to the length of their stay; and (d) special needs of vulnerable persons are taken into account’.

In the Court’s view, Mr. Abdida qualified for this treatment because his removal had to be postponed under the Directive, which requires postponement where suspensive effect of an appeal has been granted. Oddly, the Court did not mention that the Directive also requires postponement where removal would violate the principle of non-refoulement, although this rule was obviously relevant to Mr. Abdida as well.

It should be noted that the Directive gives an option to Member States to postpone removal in other cases, too. On that point it specifies that ‘Member States shall in particular take into account: (a) the third-country national’s physical state or mental capacity;’ and ‘(b) technical reasons, such as lack of transport capacity, or failure of the removal due to lack of identification’. In these cases, the persons concerned could also invoke the safeguards set out in Article 14, since that clause applies regardless of the reasons for postponement of removal.

Yet on the face of it, Mr. Abdida’s specific claim for social assistancecould not be successful, since such assistance is not mentioned in Article 14 at all. Indeed, the preamble to the Directive states that pending return, the ‘basic conditions of subsistence should be defined according to national legislation’. But the CJEU ruled that such legislation still had to be ‘compatible with the requirements laid down in’ the Directive. In this case, the right to the provision of health care would be ‘rendered meaningless if there were not also a concomitant requirement to make provision for the basic needs’ of the person concerned. However, that right only had to be provided ‘as far as possible’, on the condition that the person lacked the means to provide for his own needs; and it was up to Member States to ‘to determine the form’ which the provision of basic needs took.

 

Comments

At the outset, it should be noted that the qualification Directive and the Returns Directive have a different territorial scope. The former applies to all Member States except Denmark, but including the UK and Ireland. The latter doesn’t apply to the UK and Ireland, and it applies to Denmark and the non-EU Schengen associates (Norway, Iceland, Switzerland and Liechtenstein) only in certain cases.

So, in light of this recent CJEU case law, my advice to Paddington Bear would be to take the tube a few stops from Paddington to King’s Cross & St. Pancras station, and stow away again, this time on a Eurostar train to Brussels. (My apologies for facilitating a breach of immigration law, thereby infringing the EU’s Directive on that subject. And even greater apologies for inflicting upon the world the consequential change of name: it will be much harder to love ‘Gare du Midi Bear’.) Or alternatively, he could stow away on a train to Disneyland Paris – and create work for an army of copyright lawyers.

The Court’s judgments raise questions about the scope of international protection as defined by the qualification Directive, and about the new possibilities of protection arising under the Returns Directive. For the sake of brevity, let’s call that latter concept ‘alternative protection’ (technically, we should probably call it ‘Returns Directive protection’, but I can’t bring myself to use that term).

First of all then, the qualification Directive. The central point here is that there is no right to subsidiary protection merely due to the lack of decent health care in the country of origin, unless access to that health care has been blocked. The Court does not expand further on that exception, but presumably a parallel argument could be made for refugee status, where access to essential health care is blocked on one of the grounds (such as race, religion or political opinion) set out in the Geneva Convention, since that would surely constitute a form of persecution.

More broadly, the Court rules out a subsidiary protection claim unless the conditions in the country of origin have been caused by a ‘third party’ as defined in the Directive (namely the State, persons or groups controlling the State, or non-State actors). While the Court didn’t rule on this point as such, the logic of its judgment suggests that ‘non-State actors’ have to be humans. Also, it’s implicit that indirect causation isn’t sufficient. It could certainly be argued that the lack of sufficient health care in developing countries is ultimately the fault of corrupt dictators and elites who hoard those countries’ wealth, and/or the legacy of (neo-)colonialism and slavery. Equally, many believe that environmental displacement results from climate change caused by human activity. But it seems unlikely that the CJEU would accept this line of argument.

Furthermore, the Court has ruled out Member States using their power to apply more favourable rules for international protection in such cases. The CJEU had only ruled once before on this issue, in the case of B and D, when it ruled that States could not grant refugee status to persons who were excluded from that status. It was possible to interpret that judgment as meaning that Member States were only constrained from granting more favourable treatment when international law requiredthem not to do so. But the M’Bodj judgment goes much further than this. So the CJEU hasn’t just refused to raise the floor for international protection – it’s significantly lowered the ceiling.

It should be noted that the requirement that more favourable standards be compatible with EU law applies in all other EU asylum laws, as well as in some EU migration legislation, such as the Returns Directive. The M’Bodjjudgment might therefore have implications for these laws too. But the rule doesn’t apply to all EU immigration laws, and there’s no good reason to assume that a ‘compatibility’ requirement ought to apply in those cases where the EU legislature has deliberately decided not to insert one.

So what more favourable standards can Member States apply? In the case of the qualification Directive, the Court says that they must fall within the scope of international protection. It doesn’t elaborate further, but this presumably refers back to the key concept of persecution or serious harm caused by a ‘third party’. Higher standards can therefore apply only in relation to the Directive’s definition of ‘refugee’ and ‘subsidiary protection’. For instance, it should surely be open to Member States to grant subsidiary protection to persons fleeing indiscriminate violence even where the threat is not ‘individual’, or where the applicants are not civilians.

Secondly, what are the implications of the Abdida judgment for the new possibility of ‘alternative protection’? To understand this concept better, it should be compared to the elements of EU law governing international protection: the allocation of responsibility for an application (ie, the ‘Dublin rules’); the substantive grounds for protection; the procedures for determining whether there is a protection need; and the benefits which an individual receives during the determination process (and afterward, if his or her claim is successful).

Beforehand, though, some general points about the Court’s approach to the Returns Directive in Abdida.  When it was initially adopted back in 2008, that Directive was castigated by NGOs as the Devil incarnate, spurring on Member States to all sorts of inhumane treatment of irregular migrants. Over the years, the CJEU’s interpretation of the Directive has (generally speaking) ensured that irregular migrants are better treated than the Directive’s initial critics thought that they would be. The judgment in Abdidagoes even beyond this, and transforms an instrument of repression into (in some cases) an instrument for protection. It’s like going into a vegetarian restaurant, and being served a bacon sandwich.

For meat-eaters – with the obvious exception of Ed Miliband – that would be a pleasant surprise. So what’s the problem? The problem is that it’s difficult to take a law that was drafted to expedite the removal of migrants, and using it to help them instead. The CJEU tried to overcome this in the Abdidajudgment by performing a series of feats of legal alchemy: redrafting the national court’s questions from scratch; turning an obligation to ‘take due account’ of non-refoulement into a ban on removal; making an option to grant the suspensive effect of appeals into an obligation; transforming the ‘principle’ of obtaining health care into a rule; and adding social assistance to the list of benefits which Mr. Abdida has to receive.  Yet despite all this, a lot of effort will still be required to make the Returns Directive function as an instrument to grant individual protection.

To see why, let’s look at those elements of the protection process, starting with the allocation of responsibility for an application. There are no ‘Dublin rules’ applicable to alternative protection cases. So if Paddington Bear managed to make his way to Brussels or Paris, Belgium or France could not invoke formal rules requiring the UK to take him back. The position would be different though, if he had applied for asylum in the UK first, before making his way to another Member State. In that case, the Dublin rules would apply, so in principle the UK would have responsibility for him, since he crossed the UK borders without authorisation before he set foot in any other Member State. But this normal rule would have to be disapplied in his case, since unaccompanied minors can usually change the country which is responsible for their application (see the discussion here).

In fact, in real life, most of those using the ‘alternative protection’ route would likely have applied for asylum first (as is evident from the facts of the Abdida and M’Bodj cases), so the Dublin rules as such would apply to them. According to the CJEU, they could therefore only resist being sent back to the responsible Member State if there is a complete breakdown of the asylum system there. For Paddington, the demented attentions of Nicole Kidman’s character, or the grim reality of British immigration law as described in Colin Yeo’s blog post, would not meet that threshold.

Next, what are the substantive grounds for alternative protection? We know from the Abdidacase that they include at least non-refoulement, and crucially also that the concept of non-refoulement in the Returns Directive and the Charter is wider than the concept of international protection. It covers at least ‘medical cases’, and arguably also other cases that fall outside the scope of refugee and subsidiary protection status but within the scope of Article 3 ECHR (for instance, persons excluded from refugee status or subsidiary protection status). It could also be argued that it covers environmental cases, such as the fictional destruction of talking bears’ habitat, or the very real scenario of sinking islands. Article 5 of the Returns Directive also refers to the best interests of the child, the state of health of the person concerned and family life, so logically these could also potentially be grounds for alternative protection. But it’s not possible to claim alternative protection on the basis only that it’s impossible to carry out a return decision in practice: se the Mahdidecision earlier this year (discussed here).

Moving on to the procedures for determining whether there is an alternative protection need, there are three elements here: access to the process; administrative procedure; and judicial protection. There’s an obvious problem with access to the process, for the Returns Directive cannot be ‘accessed’ unless there is a pending returns decision. So we have the odd scenario where people facing expulsion (Mr. Abdida) are better off in terms of health care than those with residence permits (Mr. M’Bodj). The Returns Directive requires Member States to issue return decisions to those whose stay is not authorised, but it leaves them an option to allow people to stay if they wish; in that case, the return decisions must be rescinded. Otherwise, the Directive is silent on whether return decisions expire or can be renewed or rescinded. There’s no provision for an individual to ask for a return decision to be issued, even where it’s possible that it might make the person concerned better off.

Next, the administrative procedure during the returns process has been addressed in the CJEU recent judgments on the right to be heard in Returns Directive cases, discussed here. It’s notable that the judgment in Boudjlidaspecifically requires national authorities, before issuing a returns decision, to consider any issues related to Article 5 of the Returns Directive. However, on the whole the concept of the right to be heard in Returns Directive cases, as developed by the Court is significantly weaker than the rules on interviews, et al, set out in the asylum procedures directive.

Conversely, as for judicial protection, the suspensive effect of removals set out in the Abdida case is stronger than the equivalent provisions of the asylum procedures Directive. It’s not clear if this would apply to other cases where an ‘alternative protection’ argument might be made though. Article 13 of the Returns Directive also contains other rules, on: the independence and impartiality of the appeals body (which actually need not be a judicial body); requirement for a merits review; access to legal advice; and legal aid. It might be arguable by analogy with the suspensive effect point in Abdida,that at least in some cases, Article 47 of the Charter confers stronger rights than the Directive requires.

Finally, the benefits which an individual receives during the determination process, if his or her removal is postponed, are (as noted above) family unity, essential health care, education for minors, protection for vulnerable persons, and written confirmation of their status. We know from the Abdida judgment that this list of entitlements is not exhaustive, and can be extended to protection of basic needs in individual cases. In that case, the CJEU implicitly accepted that there would be no point providing health care for Mr. Abdida if, while he received it, he was being left to starve to death in the streets.  This is surely not the only type of case where basic needs have to be provided for: should an unaccompanied minor be left without food and shelter also?

What about the two provisos mentioned by the Court: a means test, and Member States’ power to ‘determine the form’ which provision of basic needs take? On the first point, it should be noted that the employer sanctions Directive (discussed here) gives Member States an option – but not an obligation – to permit irregular migrants to take up employment. Possibly Member States could take into account other income being provided by families, friends or charities. On the second point, Member States’ discretion does not extend to an absolute power to detain the people concerned, since the grounds for detention and conditions for detention set out in the Returns Directive would apply. But as regards other aspects of basic needs, Member States would surely be free to decide on the details of housing and financial support. So sadly, Paddington Bear could not insist on staying with Hugh Bonneville’s family – and would have to settle for marmalade from Aldi, not Marks & Spencer’s.

 

Barnard & Peers: chapter 9, chapter 26

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Tarakhel v Switzerland: Another nail in the coffin of the Dublin system?

 

Steve Peers

Introduction

Despite the EU’s purported adherence to high standards of human rights protection, the EU’s Dublin system, which allocates responsibility for each asylum-seeker’s application to a single Member State, has repeatedly run foul of human rights standards. Yesterday’s judgment of the European Court of Human Rights (‘ECtHR’, or ‘Strasbourg Court’) in Tarakhel v Switzerland, and the recent judgment of the same court in Sharifi v Italy and Greece, have further confirmed the problems in making this system compatible with ECHR obligations.

In fact, the Tarakheljudgment goes further than the prior judgments, which had merely exposed the lack of sufficient human rights protection in the EU legislation, as applied by Member States. Rather, it is now clear that the approach of the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) in interpreting the Dublin rules is also incompatible with the ECHR.

Background

The Dublin rules initially appeared as part of the Schengen Convention, which bound only certain Member States. They were then set out in the form of the Dublin Convention, signed in 1990. This Convention was replaced by an EC Regulation (known as the ‘Dublin II Regulation’) from 2003. That Regulation was in turn replaced by the Dublin III Regulation, adopted in 2013, which applies to all applications made after 1 January 2014. Furthermore, the Dublin rules have been extended to the non-EU countries associated with the Schengen system, by means of treaties with Norway and Iceland on the one hand, and Switzerland and Liechtensteinon the other.

The previous leading cases on the compatibility of the Dublin regime with human rights were (for the Strasbourg court) the 2011 judgment in MSS v Belgium and Greece, and (for the CJEU) the judgment in NS, delivered later that same year. In MSS, the ECtHR ruled that Greece had violated Article 3 ECHR (the ban on torture or other inhuman or degrading treatment) in three ways: its treatment of the Afghan asylum-seeker in question in detention; its failure to secure adequate living conditions for him after release from detention; and its highly deficient asylum procedure. The evidence of these violations was found in numerous reports by NGOs and international bodies. The Court also ruled that Belgium had violated Article 3 ECHR because it had returned the same asylum-seeker to Greece (in accordance with the Dublin rules), even though it must have known of the situation there. For good measure, the Court also ruled that Belgium had violated Article 13 ECHR (the right to an effective remedy), since Belgium did not provide for sufficient reviews of the merits in cases such as this one.

Subsequently, the CJEU ruled in NS that asylum-seekers could not be returned to Greece, pursuant to the Dublin rules, because of systematic deficiencies in the asylum system in that country. Removals in such cases would constitute a breach of Article 4 of the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights (the equivalent of Article 3 ECHR). However, the Court distinguished such major breaches of fundamental rights from minor violations of EU or international rules relating to refugees, which would not require Member States to refrain from applying the Dublin rules.

Before the ECtHR could rule in Tarakhel, the CJEU clarified its position in its judgment in Abdullahi, delivered late in 2013. The Court started out by emphasising the presumption that all EU Member States protected human rights, noting that there was now second-phase legislation establishing the Common European Asylum System. It then characterised the Dublin rules as essentially regulating the relationship between Member States, referring in particular to the optional ‘sovereignty’ and ‘humanitarian’ clauses in the Dublin II Regulation, as well as the possibility of conciliation or separate arrangements between Member States. It followed that when two Member States agreed which of them was the Member State of first authorised entry (triggering responsibility under the Dublin rules), an asylum-seeker could ‘only’ challenge that decision by ‘pleading systemic deficiencies in the asylum procedure and in the conditions for the reception of applicants for asylum’ in the Member State which was deemed responsible for the asylum application.

Finally, the recent Sharifijudgment pf the Strasbourg Court established that Italy’s interception of asylum-seekers from Greece in the Adriatic, and their forced return to Greece, violated Article 3 ECHR as well as the ban on collective expulsions in the Fourth Protocol to the ECHR. In doing so, it confirmed a key corollary of the MSS ruling: Member States breach the ECHR if they stop asylum-seekers fleeing an unsafe country directly from crossing their borders. Although the rules on freedom to travel for third-country nationals in the Schengen Convention do not give asylum-seekers the right to move between Schengen States (unless, improbably, they have a visa or residence permit, or the visa requirement is waived for their country of origin), the ECHR nevertheless gives asylum-seekers the freedom to travel between Schengen countries (or any States) in such circumstances. Also, the right to move to another country extends beyond the three-month time limit on intra-Schengen travel, since asylum-seekers can in principle stay until their claim is finally rejected.

The Tarakhel judgment

Yesterday’s judgment concerned a family of eight Afghans, who entered the EU by crossing the Italian border first. This made Italy responsible for their applications under the Dublin rules. However, the family soon left the asylum-seekers’ reception centre which they were assigned to in Italy, on the grounds that conditions there were inadequate for families. They moved to Austria, which triggered the Dublin rules, asking Italy to take charge of them. Italy agreed, but before their transfer to Italy could be carried out, they moved on to Switzerland. That country in turn asked Italy to take charge of the family; Italy tacitly accepted.

However, they challenged their removal to Italy on the grounds that their treatment in that country, if they were removed there, would violate Article 3 ECHR. They lost their case in the Swiss courts, so asked the ECtHR to rule that their removal to Italy would constitute a breach of Article 3, as well as Article 8 ECHR (the right to family life). They also alleged a breach of Article 13.

The ECtHR rejected the Article 13 claim on the merits, since the Swiss courts had examined the merits of their legal arguments and they were allowed to stay on Swiss territory in the meantime. It held that it was not necessary to examine the Article 8 argument. Most importantly, by a majority of 14-3, it found that there was a breach of Article 3 ECHR.

Yet there are important differences between the MSS judgment and the Tarakhel judgment. Yesterday’s judgment does not state that Italy’s asylum system has effectively collapsed, as was the case in Greece. In particular, there were no allegations in Tarakhelrelating to flaws in Italy’s asylum procedures, or as regards detention. The argument instead was solely about living conditions in Italian detention centres.

The ECtHR began by reiterating its case law from MSS about reception conditions for asylum-seekers. While Article 3 ECHR did not guarantee a home or financial assistance, in cases involving EU Member States the Court took account of their specific obligations in that respect under the EU’s reception conditions Directive. Also asylum-seekers were an ‘underprivileged and vulnerable group’, and it was possible that extreme poverty could raise issues under Article 3. The Court also referred to other prior case law on the need to ensure that child asylum-seekers, who were in a position of ‘extreme vulnerability’, enjoyed ‘protection and humanitarian assistance’.

Next, the Court reiterated the usual rule that Article 3 prevents removal if ‘substantial grounds have been shown for believing’ that there is a ‘real risk’ of treatment contrary to Article 3 in the state of destination. The same rule could be used to rebut the assumption that countries applying the Dublin system were all safe. In this context, the ECtHR referred to the CJEU’s ‘systemic deficiencies’ test set out in the judgment in NS, but made no reference to the ruling in Abdullahi that this was the ‘only’ ground for challenging the application of the Dublin rules. However, the ECtHR also ‘notes’ the recent EM judgmentof the UK Supreme Court, which expressly stated that ‘systemic deficiencies’ were not the only ground for such challenges. Overall, the Court stated that these tests had to be applied by examining ‘the applicant’s individual situation in light of the overall situation prevailing’ in the state of destination.

Applying these rules to this case, the applicants had made three complaints about the situation of the Italian reception system. The first complaint, about the slowness of identification procedures, was dismissed out of hand, since the applicants had in fact been identified quickly. As for the second complaint, the Court accepted the evidence that there were not enough places for all asylum applicants. Thirdly, as for the reception conditions within the available facilities, a number of problems had been identified by the UNHCR and the Council of Europe’s Human Rights Commissioner.

Taken as a whole, then, the Court ruled that the ‘current situation in Italy can in no way be compared to the situation in Greece at the time of the MSS judgment’, where only a small fraction of asylum-seekers could be accommodated and ‘the conditions of the most extreme poverty…existed on a large scale’. So there could not be ‘a bar to all removals of asylum seekers to that country’. Having said that, the Court accepted that there was some risk that asylum-seekers might not get accommodation, or that the accommodation would be inadequate.

As for the individual position of the applicants, that was not comparable to the facts of the MSScase either.  The family in this case were taken care of immediately by the Italian government, rather than detained and then left to fend for themselves. But again, having said that, the Court was concerned that, in light of the vulnerability of asylum-seekers, and children in particular, there was no guarantee of (adequate) accommodation for families seeking asylum in Italy. So Switzerland could not send the family to Italy unless they obtained sufficient assurances on this point. This alone constituted a breach of Article 3 ECHR.

Interestingly, the majority judgment makes no reference to the alternative possibility of asylum-seekers obtaining private family housing at the expense of the State, which the CJEU developed in its recent Saciri judgment on the reception conditions Directive.

Comments

With great respect, there are many flaws with the CJEU’s judgment in Abdullahi. That judgment confuses Regulations (directly applicable in national legal systems) with Conventions (essentially governing relations between States). It places undue reliance on provisions of the Dublin II Regulation which were never applied in practice (conciliation) or were irrelevant to the case at hand (separate arrangements between Member States). It ignores the CJEU’s own case law on the ability to challenge Member States’ application of the Dublin II rules as regards unaccompanied minors (MA), humanitarian situations (K) or withdrawn applications (Kastrati). Its scope is unclear: does it only apply when Member States agree that the criterion regarding irregular entry is applicable, or in other cases as well? In any event, the judgment needs to be rethought in light of the Dublin III Regulation, which considerably expanded the procedural rights of asylum-seekers in the Dublin context. Why do that, if they can only challenge their transfer if there is a complete breakdown in the asylum system of the State responsible for their application?

But the most fundamental flaw in the Abdullahi judgment is exactly that: the CJEU’s statement that at least in some cases, the determination of the responsible Member State can ‘only’ be challenged if there are ‘systemic deficiencies’ in the asylum system of that State. Is that statement still correct after Tarakhel?

Certainly the statement is wrong if the CJEU meant (as it appeared to say) that both the asylum procedure and the reception conditions systems have to have failed in the responsible Member State, before a transfer to that State can be challenged. In Tarakhel, there is no issue raised regarding the asylum procedure in Italy. More generally, the Italian reception system is not in complete breakdown: the Tarakhel family faces neither extreme poverty nor vile detention conditions, but merely some risk that accommodation will either not be available or that it will be somewhat unpleasant. Accordingly, the Swiss obligations are nuanced: there is no ban on transfers, merely a procedural obligation to make arrangements with the Italian authorities.

It isn’t clear whether Tarakhelabandons the CJEU’s assumption that only ‘systemic deficiencies’ in the asylum system of a responsible State can justify a challenge to a Dublin transfer, or whether the judgment merely modifies the notion of ‘systemic deficiencies’ considerably, lowering the threshold for its application. On the first hypothesis, ‘systemic deficiencies’ are just one example of a situation that could lead to rebuttal of the assumption that another Dublin State is safe. Uncertainty about adequate reception conditions for families is another. But surely this cannot be an exhaustive list.

On the second hypothesis, a ‘systemic deficiency’ would not exist only where an asylum system had entirely collapsed, but where some particular aspect of the system was malfunctioning regularly to some extent. By analogy, a car needs to be fixed not only when the brakes entirely fail to work, but also when the windshield wipers occasionally malfunction. The risk is far greater in the first case, but the second case shouldn’t be ignored either. Again, the problems in Tarakhel cannot be the only example of a flaw in the asylum system of a responsible Member State that needs to be fixed before asylum-seekers can be transferred there.

There isn’t much difference between these two possible interpretations of Tarakhel. Although the first interpretation is in principle more open-ended than the second one, it shouldn’t take too much imagination to argue that any particular problem an asylum-seeker might face in the responsible Member State is ‘systematic’ in this very broad sense. The second interpretation does give the CJEU more leeway to back down from its head-banging judgment in Abdullahi, and explain that this was also what it had meant by ‘systemic deficiencies’ all along.

Of course, given the strong insistence on the efficiency of the Dublin system in the Abdullahijudgment, this is obviously not what the Court had meant at the time. Yet the clear message from the Tarakhel case is that there is not a simple binary distinction between cases when all Dublin transfers should stop, on the one hand, and cases when all Dublin transfers should go ahead at full speed, on the other. Instead, like a traffic light, yesterday’s judgment creates an intermediate category of cases in which national administrations must proceed with caution. This will undoubtedly make the Dublin system more costly and complex to administer, but that is often the only way to ensure that human rights are protected effectively.  

Barnard & Peers:  chapter 9, chapter 26

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Holocaust denial and hate crime: Can the EU and its Member States do more?

Steve Peers

The European Commission has chosen today, the International Holocaust Remembrance Day, to release its first report on Member States' implementation of the EU Framework Decision on combating racism and xenophobia by means of criminal law.

Implementing the EU legislation

Member States had to implement this law, a relic of the pre-Lisbon 'third pillar' of EU law (setting out special rules on policing and criminal law measures) by December 2010, and the Council had to assess the Member States' implementation of the rules, on the basis of the Commission report, by November 2013. So the Commission report is a little late, but most such reports arrive even later (due to Member States' tardy reporting on their implementation). All Member States must apply this law, although the UK is planning to opt out as of December 2014, and does not intend to apply to opt back in.

The first crucial legal question is whether Member States have properly implemented their obligations under the Framework Decision. They are obliged to criminalise: public incitement to violence or hatred based on race, et al; dissemination of tracts to the same end; the denial, trivilisation et al of war crimes, genocide and crimes against humanity as defined in the Rome Statute establishing the International Criminal Court; and denial or trivialisation of the Holocauat.

The Commission identifies some apparent breaches of the Framework Decision here; for instance, two Member States insist on some further conditions being met before criminal liability attaches to the first category of actions. Some Member States do not specify that the crimes can apply to an individual or to a group. Two Member States refer to 'nationality' instead of 'national origin'. As regards the Rome Statute crimes and Holocaust denial, some Member States' laws do not refer to all types of actions referred to as regards the first type of crime, or do not fully reflect the obligations as regards Holocaust denial. In particular, two Member States only criminalise Holocaust denial in relation to their own nation or citizens. Some Member States have no specific provisions on these issues, although arguably a general law on incitement to violence that fully covers all of the relevant actions would be sufficient.

According to the EU law, Member States must either provide for racist and xenophobic motives to be considered an aggravated circumstance, or provide that courts may take those motives into account. Some Member States restrict this obligation to certain violent crimes only. Furthermore, some Member States attach conditions to the rules regarding liability for legal persons, or do not fully apply the rules on jurisdiction, in particular as regards offences committed over the Internet.

As to the future, the Commission makes a number of recommendations to Member States, as regards (for instance) special hate crimes units, the exchange of information, cross-border cooperation, data collection, the rights of victims and comments by opinion leaders. The Commission intends to discuss the correct implementation of the Framework Decision with Member States up to 1 December 2014 - the date when it can begin infringement proceedings as regards pre-Lisbon third pillar legislation. It does not make any mention of any amendment of the legislation, or of the specific issues which the Council is required to review (the issue of judicial cooperation as regards the relevant crimes).

Comments

The Commission cannot be criticised for holding off on bringing infringement proceedings, since it cannot do so until the end of this year. After that point, this legislation will be another EU measure which the Commission ought to enforce vigorously by means of infringement proceedings if it is, as it claims, committed to ensuring the full implementation of the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights in practice.

It would be possible to clarify the interpretation of the Framework Decision if it were amended, and more importantly, its provisions could be improved. For instance, the recommendations which the Commission makes to Member States in its report could be incorporated into the legislation (except for the point concerning the rights of victims, which will become binding anyway once the EU's crime victims directive is implemented in 2015). The Commission does not consider the issue of possible amendments at all.

More significantly, the scope of the Framework Decision (or rather, the future Directive) could be enlarged, to cover other forms of hate crime. The Commission perhaps avoids mentioning the issue of amendment because of the lack of a specific legal base dealing with this issue in the current Treaties. True, racism and xenophobia are not listed among the crimes the EU can combat in Article 83(1) TFEU. But they surely fall within the scope of Article 83(2) TFEU, which gives the EU power to adopt criminal law measures when necessary in relation to a matter which the EU has harmonised. Since the EU has banned discrimination on grounds of race as regards all goods and services (inter alia), and it surely would interfere with equal access to transport, shopping and recreation (for instance) if crimes of racial hatred were committed, it could be argued that further EU measures could be adopted on this basis. The same would apply to bias crimes against women, given the scope of EU harmonisation already on the issue of gender equality.

However, it would be harder to argue that a legal power exists for the adoption of EU measures banning hate crime on grounds of sexual orientation, disability, religion or age, since the EU has only harmonised the law as regards equality in employment as regards those issues. When or if the Commission's proposed Directive extending equal treatment as regards these four grounds of discrimination is adopted, then a further measure relating to hate crime on the same grounds could be proposed.


Barnard & Peers: chapter 25, chapter 20

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