Accountability and Defenestration: The Dalli Saga

 

Dr Marios Costa, Lecturer in Law, City University

The en bloc resignation of the Santer Commission in 1999, against a background of allegations of fraud, maladministration and chronic mismanagement, is still topical, almost two decades afterwards. The European Commission has long been criticised for its administrative inadequacies and for the structural deficiencies in the Union’s system of accountability. There have been a number of reports depicting the Commission as an institution suffering from structural and political irregularities. 

On 11 May 2015 the General Court gave a significant judgment on a legal challenge brought by the former EU health Commissioner, Mr John Dalli, against the Commission. Dalli argued that he was forced to resign, by the then President of the Commission, Jose Manuel Barroso, without given enough time to consider his legal rights. Rather paradoxically, the General Court ruled that Mr Dalli resigned voluntarily and dismissed the action as inadmissible.  

This judgment raises broader constitutional implications. With all due respect, the ruling comes as a surprise and fails to clarify issues in relation to the powers that can be lawfully exercised by the President of the Commission when he loses confidence in any of the members of his Commission. This commentary examines the appropriateness of the recent ruling and concludes that the General Court lost a rather rare opportunity to rule on significant aspects of the Treaty powers granted upon the President of the Commission to sack the individual Commissioners and as a result also fails to remedy the accountability deficits of the Commission.

Facts of the Case

Dalli, the former Maltese Commissioner, was accused of soliciting bribery for the amount of 60 million euro in exchange of seeking to influence future legislative proposals in favour of the tobacco maker Swedish Match. Following a complaint to the Commission from the latter, the EU’s Anti-Fraud Office (OLAF) initiated investigations into the serious bribery allegations. On 15 October 2012, OLAF sent its final report to the Commission highlighting that there was no conclusive evidence that the Commissioner was involved in requesting money from the tobacco manufacturer. Yet, there was some evidence confirming that Mr Dalli was at least aware of the fact that a Maltese entrepreneur was using his name for the purposes of getting financial benefits from the tobacco maker.

On 16 October 2012, Mr Dalli had a meeting with the President of the Commission where he was presented with two already drafted press releases by the Commission: one stating that Mr Dalli decided to resign ‘voluntarily’, whilst the other stated that Barroso requested him to resign by exercising his prerogative powers under Article 17(6) TEU. During their meeting, the President showed the covering letter of the OLAF’s report to Mr Dalli. Nevertheless, access to the full report was refused on the grounds that it was confidential. Towards the end of their meeting, the President made it clear that he was going to force the applicant to resign if he was not going to do so voluntarily. The applicant asked for at least 24 hours to consult a lawyer and to find out what his legal rights were. Barroso said that he could give him no more than 30 minutes. Mr Dalli chose to resign.  

Mr Dalli challenged the legality of the oral decision taken by Barroso to terminate his term of office as the EU Health Commissioner. The Court declared the action as inadmissible since there was no clarity in relation to the act whose annulment was sought. The Court could not distinguish whether Mr Dalli was seeking the annulment of the decision of the President to remove him from office pursuant to Articles 245 and 247 TFEU or the allegedly oral decision taken by Barroso to request Mr Dalli’s resignation under Article 17(6) TEU. In consequence, the action was dismissed as inadmissible.

Legal Framework on the Commissioners’ Accountability

The Treaty is not silent on the issue of Commission accountability.. Article 245(1) TFEU provides that ‘[t]he Members of the Commission shall refrain from any action incompatible with their duties’. Additionally, Article 245(2) TFEU covers the case of compulsory retirement of an individual Commissioner. It reads as follows:

The Members of the Commission may not, during their term of office, engage in any other occupation, whether gainful or not. […] they shall give a solemn undertaking that, both during and after their term of office, they will respect the[ir] obligations […] in particular their duty to behave with integrity and discretion as regards the acceptance […] of certain appointments or benefits.  In the event of any breach of these obligations, the Court of Justice may, […], rule that the Member concerned be, according to the circumstances, either compulsory retired in accordance with Article 247 or deprived of his right to a pension or other benefits in its stead.

Moreover, Article 247 TFEU, which contains the only reference to the personal liability of Commissioners, reads as follows:

If any Member of the Commission no longer fulfils the conditions required for the performance of his duties or if he has been guilty of serious misconduct, the Court of Justice may, on application by the Council acting by a simple majority or the Commission, compulsorily retire him.

Furthermore, Article 234 TFEU provides for another kind of responsibility which the Commission owes to the European Parliament (EP), the ‘censure’ motion, as follows:

If a motion of censure on the activities of the Commission is tabled before it, the EP [and] … is carried by a two-thirds majority of votes cast, representing a majority of the component Members of the EP, the Members of the Commission shall resign as a body.

Finally, pursuant to Article 17(6) TEU, ‘[a] member of the Commission shall resign if the President so requests’.    

Comment and Analysis 

The Dalli judgment is a lost opportunity by the Court to clarify the abovementioned provisions as regards accountability of the EU Commissioners. Surely, any failure by an individual Commissioner to meet the standards described in in Article 245 TFEU, as set out above, can lead to a significant damage of the public image of the Commission.  This is not a hypothetical observation if one looks at the events leading to the collective resignation of the Santer Commission and to the closely related Cresson judgment (Case C-432/04, Commission v Cresson, ECLI identifier: EU:C:2006:455). Consequently, one can understand the concerns of President Barroso to avoid repetition of the discredited Santer Commission in 1999. Barroso’s commitment to high standards of administration is perfectly legitimate. What is not legitimate, however, is the process that led to the resignation of Mr Dalli. Notably, the Commission can only succeed if individual Commissioners operate impartially and independently, without influence from external sources, whether national governments or private individuals and without engaging privately with stakeholders to achieve financial benefits. This is the only way for the Commission to gain confidence from other institutions as well as Member States and citizens.

The Commissioners must meet the highest standards not just on external matters, but on their conduct inside the Commission.  They should perform their duties without division or external influence due to their high ranking and experience in the political arena.  In particular, as already explained above, Article 245(1) TFEU requires Commissioners to be free from any external influence. This point is vital if the Commission is to stay independent of Member States or individuals. But let’s assume for a while that there was enough evidence that Mr Dalli obtained pecuniary advantages from the Swedish tobacco maker. Assume further that the OLAF report concluded that the Commissioner needs to be held accountable for infringing his duty to behave with integrity pursuant to Article 245 TFEU. Is the procedure that forced him to resign acceptable and does it respect the rule of law? Or does it confirm an exercise of abusive behaviour by the President? Forcing an individual Commissioner to resign without allowing him to consult a lawyer and without given the opportunity to see the OLAF report constitutes a manifest violation of his basic right to respond to the evidence against him. Any employment lawyer will agree that this behaviour is a classic case of constructive dismissal. Surely this is not something that can be justified, particularly if this comes from the President of the Commission, an institution supposedly entrusted with the duty to guard and ensure that the rule of law is duly respected.  

Conclusion

Unfortunately, the General Court did not clarify the system of accountability for the Commissioners’ actions. The Court rather simply decided to dismiss the action as inadmissible. Taking into account the OLAF report and also the factual background of the previously decided Cresson case one can realise that a lot of irregularities can take place within the Commission and there is a deficit of any meaningful notion of accountability of the Commission. The General Court has made a wrong decision in refraining to clarify what obligations are mandatory for EU Commissioners as set within the Treaty framework. Additionally, and most importantly, the judgment fails to set the boundaries of the prerogative powers of the Commission’s President to sack the members of his cabinet. Whether or not Commissioners can be held accountable for their decisions has been completely ignored in Dalli.

 

Barnard & Peers: chapter 3

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The CJEU increases public access to legal advice on international treaties

Steve Peers

Introduction

The different approaches between the EU and the USA as regards data protection continue to result in considerable friction. Even before the Snowden revelations about the surveillance of EU citizens by the American security services, there were arguments about American access to airlines’ passenger name records and information about money transfers.

Both of these disputes were eventually solved by means of a treaty between the US and the EU regulating the USA’s access to such information. As regards money transfers, that access enables the USA to carry out its ‘Terrorist Finance Tracking Programme’ (TFTP). While the first version of the treaty regulating access to the TFTP data was rejected by the European Parliament (EP), a second version was approved after the text was amended.

After the CJEU’s recent judgments concerning data retention and Google Spain, and in light of the pending Europe v Facebookcase, it might now be questioned whether the EU/US treaties on passenger data and TFTP are invalid due to breach of the data protection rights guaranteed by EU law. However, that’s a topic for a future blog post.

In the meantime, the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) ruled today on a related question. When the negotiations for the TFTP treaty were underway, the ‘legal base’ of the future treaty (ie, the precise EU powers to negotiate and conclude it) was disputed, and the Council’s legal service gave a legal opinion on this issue. A Member of the European Parliament (MEP), Sophie in’t Veld, requested access to the legal opinion and was refused, on the grounds that revealing legal advice relating to international negotiations would undermine those negotiations. She challenged this decision before the General Court, and was partly successful. 

The Council appealed that judgment to the Court of Justice, and has entirely lost in today’s judgment. While that judgment significantly increases public access to documents as regards legal advice, it still leaves intact the possibility of the institutions to refuse access as regards the substance of negotiations. 

The judgment

The EU’s access to documents legislation (Regulation 1049/2001) provides in principle for public access to EU documents. It contains exceptions allowing documents to be refused on grounds of (among other grounds) ‘international relations’ and ‘legal advice’. According to the General Court, the Council legal service’s advice on the TFTP treaty could be refused on the former ground, to the extent that it disclosed substantive details of the draft negotiating mandate, since this would damage the EU’s position by revealing it to the other side.  

However, to the extent that the legal advice did not reveal the EU’s substantive negotiating position, this ground for refusal could not automatically be applied. The General Court took into account the fact that an EP resolution had already made this particular legal base issue public, and that legal base disputes relating to international treaties can be the subject of advance rulings of the CJEU before those treaties come into force.

As regards this first issue, all of the Council’s objections to the judgment were rejected by the CJEU. The Court ruled that while legal advice relating to international treaty negotiations did not always have to be disclosed, it could not always automatically be refused either. Rather, the Council had to give reasons why disclosing the opinion to the public (after redacting all of the information relating to the substance of the negotiations) would undermine international negotiations.

Furthermore, the CJEU ruled that the General Court was right to apply a more stringent standard of judicial review as regards this issue as compared to the substantive negotiating mandate (where the EU courts would still leave a wide discretion to the EU institutions).

The second issue was the ‘legal advice’ exception. The CJEU had previously ruled, in the Turco case, that access to legal advice could only be exceptionally refused in legislative proceedings. By contrast, the negotiation of an international treaty is an executive power, conferred by the Treaties upon the EU Commission or the High Representative for EU foreign policy.

But nevertheless, the General Court had ruled that the legal advice exception could not be applied in this case either. The Council’s argument that it needed to keep legal advice secret to avoid embarrassment was too general and unsubstantiated. It was irrelevant that the legal advice concerned an international treaty, since the ‘international relations’ exception already addressed that aspect. Moreover, the EU legislation provides that the use of the ‘legal advice’ exception is subject to a public interest override. On this point, there was a close link to the EU’s legislative activity relating to police cooperation and personal data exchange, and waiting until the agreement was in force would rob public access to information of much of its purpose.  Again, all of the Council’s objections to the judgment were rejected by the CJEU.

Comments

In principle, this judgment could significantly open up the debate concerning the legality of planned international treaties. While the CJEU did not rule that legal advice in such cases should be disclosed as a rule (as legal advice relating to legislative procedures must), it is now clear that refusing access to such documents as a rule is a breach of the access to documents regulation. The Council (or Commission) must give detailed specific reasons to show why they think such documents should be refused because their release would undermine the conduct of negotiations in any specific case. This is obviously a difficult task, since to provide those reasons, those institutions would have to predict the hypothetical actions of third States without disclosing to the applicant much of the details.

Moreover, they must consider the public interest in access to that legal advice. The General Court’s further reasoning on this issue wasn’t expressly endorsed by the CJEU, but neither did the CJEU disavow it. So it is arguable that whenever there is a link between the treaty negotiations in question and the EU’s legislative activity, and/or the treaty in question touches upon an issue of broad public concern like data protection, then the public interest overrides the Council’s.

On the other hand, unlike the position as regards the EU legislative process, the CJEU has left intact wide discretion for the institutions to refuse to disclose their negotiating position, and therefore any details of that position in the legal advice can be redacted. Since there is an obvious close link between the legal advice and the substantive position, it remains to be seen whether the documents will still be intelligible.

Will the release of such documents damage the EU’s negotiating positions as regards international treaties? In the case of the USA, surely it has seen all the documents anyway, due to the efficiency of its espionage agencies. That will also be the case, to some extent, with some or all of the other countries the EU negotiates with.

As for the European Parliament, the Treaty anyway guarantees it information on all ongoing negotiations, and the CJEU has recently confirmed that this is an enforceable right. However, it is not yet clear how far that right extends, and in particular whether it extends to negotiating mandates. In any event, it is clear from the judgment that if the EP hears about a legal dispute concerning a planned treaty, and decides to make that dispute public by referring to it in a resolution, the Council’s argument that the legal advice cannot be disclosed is significantly weakened.

Another reason for the secrecy of the EU’s international negotiations may be to avoid complications arising from public debate. However, this strategy is largely self-defeating, since the secrecy itself engenders great suspicion from critics about what the EU and its negotiating partners might be planning, and so may fuel opposition to the eventual treaty (if the negotiations are successful). A clear case in point is the current talks on an EU/US free trade agreement.  

It is true to say that this process is ultimately democratic, since all international treaties agreed by the EU and third States then have to be approved by the Council, and most have to be approved by the European Parliament and often also national parliaments. However, it is not democratic in the full sense of the term, since there is a very limited opportunity for and open and public debate (as compared to the legislative process) before the negotiations have concluded.

Today’s judgment has opened up that debate somewhat, by making it easier to make a successful request for the legal advice relating to such negotiations. Sometimes the legal advice may relate to broad issues of public concern, such as human rights protection, but sometimes it will relate to more technical institutional points. The latter points could still be relevant politically, since they could determine (for instance) how much power Member States or the EP have to block a treaty if they object to the substance of it.

But overall, the judgment will not satisfy the demand for greater openness of the treaty negotiation procedure, and so the paradoxical effect of secrecy breeding opposition to treaties will continue. For those who seek greater public involvement in the process, getting access to more information on legal advice but no further information on the substance of the talks is like being served a salad when they are hungry for steak.

Barnard & Peers: chapter 3, chapter 24 

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New EU rules on maritime surveillance: will they stop the deaths and push-backs in the Mediterranean?

Steve Peers

Introduction

A new EU Regulation, published today in the EU’s Official Journal, sets out new rules on maritime surveillance and rescue operations coordinated by Frontex, the EU’s borders agency. What effect will these rules have on reducing the tragic death toll of migrants in the Mediterranean? And what will happen to the asylum claims of those rescued or intercepted in the high seas?

These new rules are a response to the continued argument that the EU must bear at least some of the blame for the deaths of migrants in the Mediterranean. Furthermore, Member States’ authorities and Frontex have often been blamed for violent behaviour or ‘push-backs’: the forced return of migrants’ vessels to unsafe countries, which were condemned by the European Court of Human Rights in its 2012 judgment in Hirsi v Italy.

The Regulation replaces prior rules adopted by the Council alone in 2010, in the form of a Decision implementing the Schengen Borders Code,which was annulled by the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) after the European Parliament (EP) challenged it on procedural grounds. According to the Court, an EU act concerning human rights and coercive measures had to be adopted by means of the EU’s legislative process.

That meant that the European Commission had to propose a legislative measure, which it did in April 2013. At first, a hard-line group of Member States opposed most of the provisions in this proposal concerning search and rescue and disembarkation (ie the rules on the destination of migrants who were intercepted and rescued), even after the particularly tragic loss of 300 migrants’ lives in autumn 2013. However, these Member States relented, and the European Parliament also pressed to retain and improve upon the Commission’s proposal.

The new Regulation was subsequently agreed, and will come into force on 17 July. But does it mean that the EU will be doing enough to address the loss of life and push-backs in the Mediterranean?

This post addresses these issues in turn, and concludes with an assessment of the issue of the accountability of Frontex. It is an updated and amended version of a previous Statewatch analysis on the new rules.

Search and rescue

The previous Decision contained binding rules on interception, and non-binding rules on search and rescue and disembarkation. However, the CJEU said that even the latter category of rules was binding. As noted above, a group of Member States wanted to water down (as it were) most of these rules in the new Regulation, but was ultimately unsuccessful.

There are new rules on search and rescue, which retain (at the EP’s behest) the Commission’s detailed proposal on this issue, including particularly the definition of whether vessels can be considered in a state of alert, uncertainty or distress. Provided that sinking vessels are detected in time and that these rules are properly applied, the Regulation should therefore ensure that migrants are rescued from drowning wherever possible.

Protection and disembarkation rules

On the other hand, the situation is more complex as regards the rules on protection of those migrants who are potentially at risk of persecution, torture or other forms of ill-treatment in their country of origin (or another country).

The core of the new Regulation is Article 4 – the protection against non-refoulement (removal to an unsafe country) and protection of fundamental rights. Article 4(1) states that no-one can be ‘disembarked in, forced to enter, conducted to or otherwise handed over to’ an unsafe country as further defined in the Regulation. Compared to the 2010 Decision, the Commission proposal, and the Council position, the EP successfully insisted on adding the words ‘forced to enter’ and ‘conducted to’, which clearly covers push-backs.

What is an unsafe country? Article 4(1) goes on to define two situations: (a) a serious risk of subjection of the migrant to the death penalty, torture, persecution or other inhuman or degrading treatment; and (b) the migrant’s life or freedom would be threatened on the grounds set out in the Geneva Convention on Refugees (race, religion, nationality, political opinion or membership of a social group), as well as sexual orientation. Also, a ‘chain refoulement’ is banned: a migrant cannot be handed over to a country which is safe in itself, but which would hand the migrant over to an unsafe country.

Compared to the criteria in EU asylum law (the ‘Qualification Directive’), the first category includes two of the grounds concerning the grant of ‘subsidiary protection’ (ie protection for those who do not qualify as refugees under the Geneva Convention): the death penalty and torture or other inhuman or degrading treatment. It does not include the third category, concerning ill-treatment in the event of armed conflict; however, it does include ‘persecution’, without further definition. The second category is identical to Article 33(1) of the Geneva Convention, except that it does not include the exception in Article 33(2) of that Convention for persons posing security threats et al., and it adds the grounds of ‘sexual orientation’ to those referred to in the Convention. However, the CJEU has confirmed that homosexuals can form a ‘particular social group’ under the EU’s Qualification Directive.

The 2010 Decision referred simply to ‘non-refoulement’ without any further explanation in the main text, while the 2013 proposal (and the Council’s position) referred only to the first category of grounds, without the general reference to ‘persecution’. So the EP clearly succeeded in strengthening this provision.

Next, how must an unsafe country be determined? Article 4(2) states that when considering disembarking migrants in a third country, the host Member State (the Member State from which an operation takes place or from which it is launched: Article 2(3)) must ‘take into account the general situation in that third country’, and cannot disembark or otherwise force to enter, conduct to or hand over if the host Member State or other participating Member States ‘are aware or ought to be aware’ that such a State presents such a risk. The EP insisted on adding the references to forcing to enter, conducting to or handing over.

The EP also obtained an amendment further clarifying the sources of information to take into account – a ‘broad range’, including other Member States, EU bodies, agencies and offices and international bodies. The Member States ‘may’ take into account existing agreements and projects carried out using EU funds.

What are the migrants’ procedural rights? Article 4(3) of the Regulation specifies that (in accordance with the Hirsijudgment) before disembarking or otherwise conducting, etc the migrants to a third State, taking into account the general situation in that State, the Member States’ units shall ‘use all means’ to identify the migrants, assess their circumstances, inform them of their destination and give them an opportunity to object on grounds of the non-refoulement rule. These obligations are subject to an override in the interests of the safety of all the persons involved (see Article 3).

The operational plan must ‘where necessary’ provide for medical staff, interpreters, legal advisers and other relevant experts on shore. Also, the annual reports which Frontex must provide on the application of the Regulation must include ‘further details’ on cases of disembarkation in third States, as regards the application of the relevant criteria. These provisions were insisted upon by the EP, in particular the reference to ‘legal advisers’, but there is ‘wiggle room’ conferred by the words ‘where necessary’ and ‘use all means’.

There are also limits on the exchange of personal data with third countries, an obligation to respect human dignity, and rules on training of staff.

The protection rules cannot be separated from the rules on disembarkation of migrants. According to Article 10, there are three scenarios. First, if migrants are intercepted in the territorial sea or contiguous zone (the waters adjacent to the territorial sea, according to international law: see the definition in Article 2(13)) of a Member State, then they must be disembarked in the coastal Member State, ie the Member State in whose territorial waters or contiguous zone the operation takes place (definition in Article 2(14)). But this is subject to a crucial exception: it is possible under the Regulation that a vessel that has made it this close to a Member State could still be ordered to alter course towards another destination.

Secondly, if migrants are intercepted in the high seas, they may be disembarked in the country from which they are assumed to have departed, subject to the non-refoulement rules in the Regulation. If that is not possible, then disembarkation ‘shall’ take place in the host Member State.

Thirdly, in the event of a search and rescue, the migrants shall be disembarked in a place of safety. If that is not possible, then they shall be disembarked in the host Member State.

These provisions raise many important questions. First of all, it should have been clearly specified that the general non-refoulement rule takes priority over any possibility of disembarkation in a third State.

Secondly, as correctly noted in the preamble to the Regulation, the EU’s asylum legislation applies to anyone in the territorial waters of the EU. This means that, in accordance with that legislation, once an asylum application is made in the territorial waters, the asylum applicant cannot be removed to a third State before there is a decision on the asylum application in accordance with that legislation, save for some limited exceptions not relevant here. The obvious corollary of this is that asylum-seekers who make their application in the territorial waters must be disembarked on the territory of the Member State concerned, since it is unlikely that it will be practical to keep them on board a ship for the entire duration of a full asylum procedure. However, the main text of the Regulation does not reflect the wording of this legislation, since it provides for the possibility of persons intercepted or rescued in the territorial waters to be removed to third countries.

Thirdly, when migrants are disembarked on the territory of a Member State, an awkward question could arise: is that Member State safe? While the specific non-refoulement rules in Article 4(2) and (3) refer to the safety of third countries, the general rule in Article 4(1) refers to countries in general. The European Court of Human Rights and the EU’s Court of Justice have already both concluded that Greece in effect fails the standard set out in Article 4, and litigation in some Member States is also challenging the safety of Italy. So there could be a clash between the non-refoulement rule and the obligation to disembark in a Member State which is the host State, coastal State or place of safety, or in the territorial waters of which the applications were made.

Fourthly, as for those intercepted or rescued in the high seas or the contiguous zone (the Regulation does not contemplate the scenario of migrants being intercepted in the territorial waters of third States), the bulk of the EU’s asylum legislation does not apply. However, the EU’s qualification Directive does – since there is nothing in the text of that Directive to limit its territorial scope. But the wording of the Regulation is confusing in this regard, since it does not refer to the detailed text of that Directive but rather to general standards on non-refoulement, which are different from that Directive in some respects, as noted above (the omission of persons fleeing conflict, for instance).

Having said that, EU rules on asylum procedures and reception conditions do not apply to asylum-seekers who are intercepted or rescued in the high seas or the contiguous zone, and in that case the rules in the Regulation would apply. In effect, the rules summarised above provide for a highly simplified process – which might be dubbed the ‘maritime asylum procedure’ – for such cases. As noted above, though, the words ‘where necessary’ and ‘use all means’ arguably give Member States considerable flexibility not to apply these rules fully, and these rules are (understandably) subject to the requirement to give priority to the safety of all persons. This should mean that in the event of a risk to the safety of persons, if the application of the non-refoulement rule has not yet been assessed, the migrants must be taken to a (safe) Member State to avoid prejudicing the outcome of that assessment. Once the migrants enter a Member State’s territorial waters, EU asylum law will apply fully (arguably it applies even if the application was made beforethe vessel entered those waters; if not, then there is nothing to stop the asylum-seeker making a renewed application for asylum once the vessel is in those waters).

Since most EU asylum law does not apply to the high seas, the EU’s Dublin rules on asylum responsibility do not apply either, and it is an open question whether they would apply where a person made an application on the high seas and was then brought to the territorial waters of a Member State while the application was being considered. In order to limit somewhat the huge impact of these Dublin rules on the coastal Mediterranean States, EU Member States could agree between themselves on new rules for responsibility for asylum-seekers who make their application on the high seas. If necessary, this could take the form of an amendment to the Dublin rules, added to the proposed new amendment on the application of those rules to unaccompanied minors.

Finally, at the EP’s behest, the preamble to the Regulation clarifies (recital 7) that a shipmaster and crew should not face criminal sanctions for rescuing migrants and bringing them to a place of safety. This provision is welcome, but it would be better if the EU legislation on criminal sanctions for facilitating irregular migration were amended to confirm that there is no criminal liability in such cases.

Accountability of Frontex (and national authorities)

Article 13 of the Regulation, which was inserted at the EP’s insistence, states that Frontex must make annual reports on the application of the Regulation, including on Frontex’s own procedures and information on the application of the Regulation in practice, including ‘detailed information on compliance with fundamental rights and the impact on those rights, and any incidents which may have taken place’. Presumably this means that these reports will have to include full information on where migrants were disembarked and the assessments that were made of the safety of any third countries (and Member States) in each particular case. It would have been better to clarify the extent of these obligations expressly, although any provision on accountability is better than none. The EP also insisted on a recital in the preamble, which repeats text already in the Frontex Regulation regarding Frontex cooperation with third countries. 

When the Frontex Regulation was last amended in 2011, the EP insisted on many new provisions ensuring that Frontex would be complaint with human rights standards, and the application of these new rules has since been examined by the European Ombudsman. Frontex is still refusing to establish an individual complaints procedure for migrants who believe that it has violated the rules binding upon it, on the grounds that it only coordinates Member States’ authorities’ actions, so cannot be held directly responsible for those actions.

While it would be preferable to ensure that individuals could raise complaints that Frontex had not complied with its obligations as regards human rights, it is also true to say that Frontex only coordinates Member States’ authorities’ actions. In any event, those authorities take actions that are not coordinated by Frontex. Given that (as the new Regulation itself implicitly accepts) any control of the EU’s external border, including by means of patrols outside a Member State’s territorial waters, is linked to the application of the EU’s own rules on external border controls, the EU Charter of Rights is applicable to Member States’ control of those borders. And there have been allegations that Member States’ authorities have on some occasions been responsible for push-backs and ill-treatment of migrants at the external borders.

In this context, it is possible that Frontex has been serving for too long as a ‘lightning rod’ for critics of the EU’s external borders control policy, whereas attention should have focussed more on Member States’ authorities, whether they are being coordinated by Frontex or not. The ‘right to life’ in the European Convention of Human Rights entails, according to the European Court of Human Rights, an obligation to hold an independent investigation into losses of life that have arguably resulted from actions of the authorities. So arguably the EU is under an obligation pursuant to the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights to ensure that its Member States conduct such investigations into losses of life which are linked to the implementation of EU policies, in this case the EU external borders rules. Those authorities should also be held accountable for any alleged push-backs or other ill-treatment of migrants at the external borders.

To that end, the EU should agree upon a general framework for independent investigations into such alleged abuses, with the results of these investigations reported and assessed by the Commission as part of its twice-yearly report on the Schengen system. Furthermore, it is long past time for the Commission to stiffen its backbone and to bring infringement proceedings against Member States where there is sufficient evidence that their authorities are responsible for push-backs or other ill-treatment.

Conclusions

The existence of this Regulation is welcome, as its rules on search and rescue are valuable and its provisions on protection, disembarkation and accountability of Frontex are better than nothing at all. But the complex interplay of the provisions of this Regulation with EU asylum law has led to something of a ‘dog’s dinner’ of rules governing the asylum applications of people rescued or intercepted in the Mediterranean, and the rules on the accountability of Frontex are something of a ‘red herring’ in light of the allegations of serious misconduct in some cases by national authorities. Finally, the Commission’s continued unwillingness to bring infringement proceedings in this area (and in the face of its own documented breaches of other EU immigration and asylum law) is undermining the letter and spirit of the Charter by allowing Member States’ authorities to think that they can violate the Charter with impunity. 

Further reading: Council of Europe Parliamentary Assembly report, June 2014

UNHCR comments on the Commission proposal

Barnard & Peers: chapter 9, chapter 26

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