Guilty Pleasures

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Kategori: The ECtHR World Tour: A Case from Every Country

  • David- The Death of Socrates (1787)

    The debate over providing vegetarian and vegan meals to incarcerated individuals has intensified in recent years, spotlighting the intricate balance between prisoners’ rights and state obligations. Landmark cases in European human rights courts have set precedents for accommodating dietary preferences linked to religious or philosophical beliefs. But what happens when these preferences stem from personal convictions rather than organized religion? Is the state obligated to honor these choices, or are they an undue burden on the prison system?


    Religious Belief vs. Personal Preference

    Under Article 9 of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR), individuals are guaranteed the freedom to manifest their religion or beliefs through practice and observance, which includes dietary restrictions. In the seminal case of Jakóbski v. Poland (2010), the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) ruled that denying a Buddhist prisoner a vegetarian diet violated his right to manifest his religion. The Court emphasized that the prisoner’s adherence to a vegetarian diet was a direct expression of his Buddhist beliefs (§35). It was concluded that accommodating such dietary restrictions falls squarely under Article 9 and should be honored unless it imposes an undue burden on prison administration (§45).

    Similarly, in Vartic v. Romania (No. 2), the ECtHR sided with a prisoner who was denied a vegetarian diet required by his Buddhist faith. The Court reinforced that prison authorities must balance accommodating prisoners’ religious dietary needs with the practicalities of prison management (§§44-55).

    However, the line blurs when dietary choices are based on personal preference rather than religious or philosophical beliefs. In Şehmus Özsubaşı v. Turkey (2016), the Turkish Constitutional Court found that a prisoner’s request for vegetarian food was not a matter of religious freedom since he did not associate his diet with any religion or deeply held belief. Instead, the case was examined under the right to protect one’s physical and moral integrity, as safeguarded by Article 17 of the Turkish Constitution (§§35-37).


    Balancing Rights with Financial and Administrative Burdens

    In both Jakóbski and Vartic, the ECtHR acknowledged that while providing a vegetarian diet might introduce some financial and administrative challenges, these must be weighed against the fundamental rights of the prisoner. The Court found that offering vegetarian meals—especially when they don’t require special preparation or ingredients—is not a significant disruption to prison operations (Jakóbski v. Poland, §§48-55).

    In Vartic, the state’s argument that accommodating a vegetarian diet would cause unreasonable administrative difficulties was dismissed. The Court noted that many prisons already provide special diets for medical reasons, suggesting that extending this accommodation to religious dietary needs is feasible (§51). The central concern for states is ensuring these meals are nutritionally adequate and accessible without overburdening the system.


    A New Frontier: Veganism in the ECtHR

    The recent case of G.K. and A.S. v. Switzerland marks a pivotal moment in this evolving legal landscape. Both applicants—one a prisoner and the other a psychiatric patient—were denied a fully vegan diet by Swiss authorities. They argue that this refusal violates their rights under Articles 8 and 9 of the ECHR, which guarantee respect for private life and freedom of conscience, respectively. Additionally, the second applicant raises a claim under Article 14 (prohibition of discrimination) in conjunction with Articles 8 and 9.

    The ECtHR’s decision in this case could have far-reaching implications. If the Court recognizes veganism as a protected belief system under Article 9, it may obligate states to accommodate vegan dietary needs in prisons and hospitals across member states. This could impact food provision for approximately 700 million people, setting a new standard for how ethical and religious dietary preferences are handled in institutional settings.


    Looking Forward

    The pending decision in G.K. and A.S. v. Switzerland may further clarify the Court’s stance on dietary accommodations in prisons and other institutions. Should the Court side with the applicants, it would establish veganism as a protected belief, compelling European countries to adjust their policies accordingly.

    Given the rising prominence of veganism and anti-speciesism across Europe, this case is one to watch. It has the potential to reshape human rights protections for prisoners and institutionalized patients, pushing the boundaries of how personal beliefs are respected within the legal framework.


    Conclusion

    The intersection of personal preference and fundamental rights continues to be a complex legal terrain. The cases discussed highlight that when dietary requirements stem from deeply held religious or philosophical convictions, states have a clear obligation under Article 9 of the ECHR to accommodate these needs. Personal preferences without such grounding, however, may receive less deference, varying by jurisdiction.

    As societal values evolve and new belief systems gain recognition, legal interpretations must adapt. The challenge lies in upholding fundamental rights without imposing undue burdens on state institutions. The forthcoming decisions by human rights courts will be instrumental in defining this balance, ensuring that the dignity and beliefs of all individuals—free or incarcerated—are respected.


    References:

  • Executief van de Moslims van België and Others v. Belgium

    Edward Hicks: The Peaceable Kingdom (c . 1833–34)

    Imagine standing at the intersection of two bustling roads—one representing the freedom to practice your faith, the other the need to protect animal welfare. The recent case Executief van de Moslims van België and Others v. Belgium put the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) squarely at this crossroad, and its decision to uphold Belgium’s ban on ritual slaughter without prior stunning raised eyebrows around the world. Let’s explore what went down, why it mattered, and where it leaves us.

    The Dispute in Belgium: Ritual Slaughter vs. Stunning Ban
    In Belgium, the Flemish and Walloon regions introduced laws banning slaughter without prior stunning—aiming to protect animal welfare. This immediately sparked a legal firestorm. For the Muslim and Jewish communities, slaughter without stunning is a religious imperative. The applicants argued that the ban forced them to either abandon key religious practices or source meat from elsewhere, putting their religious freedom on the chopping block.

    The applicants challenged the ban at the Belgian Constitutional Court, which in turn sought guidance from the European Court of Justice (ECJ). The ECJ ruled that the ban was in line with EU law. Following that, the Belgian court dismissed the applicants’ challenge. So, the case went up to the ECtHR—could the ban stand under the European Convention on Human Rights?

    The Court’s Delicate Balancing Act: Freedom and Public Morals
    The ECtHR’s judgment was no small task. Article 9 of the European Convention protects religious freedom, but that freedom isn’t absolute—it can be limited to protect public safety, health, morals, or the rights of others. Here’s the ECtHR’s logic: while ritual slaughter without stunning indeed fell under religious rites protected by Article 9, animal welfare—recognized as a key element of public morals—was an equally important value, especially in today’s Europe where ethical treatment of animals is increasingly central.

    In weighing the ban against Article 9, the ECtHR noted a significant point: this wasn’t an outright prohibition of ritual slaughter. The ban offered a middle ground with “reversible stunning,” a technique that doesn’t kill the animal, aimed at respecting both animal welfare and religious practices (Para. 88). Belgium’s meticulous parliamentary process and the scientific studies it considered convinced the Court that the ban was proportionate and in line with the concept of public morality as defined under Article 9(2) (Para. 97). The Court emphasized that the notion of “morals” is evolutionary and should reflect prevailing social values, which increasingly prioritize animal welfare (Para. 96).

    The Court also observed that the interference met the requirements of being “necessary in a democratic society” (Para. 103). Belgium had conducted an extensive consultation with affected groups and experts, including religious representatives, veterinarians, and animal welfare associations, before implementing the ban (Para. 109). This thorough consideration strengthened the argument that the interference was both reasonable and necessary to achieve its goals.

    The Big Question: Were the Rights Violated?
    But was it fair? Was the state really justified in saying, “Sorry, but the welfare of animals matters enough to limit your religious practice”? That’s a hard question, and it is why the ECtHR’s decision matters far beyond the borders of Belgium.

    Interestingly, the judges concluded that the interference with religious freedom was justified. They accepted that public morality could include concerns for animal welfare, and Belgium’s approach aimed to balance the new animal protection measures with religious practices. However, for many people, this judgment has left lingering questions about whether animals’ rights should weigh against religious rites.

    Animal Welfare Meets Religious Tradition: The Article 14 Angle
    The applicants also argued a violation of Article 14 (prohibition of discrimination), claiming discrimination against Muslim and Jewish communities compared to hunters, fishermen, and the general population. The ECtHR examined whether these groups were treated differently in a discriminatory way. It concluded that, given the unique nature of ritual slaughter and the ban’s focus on farm animal welfare rather than wild animals, there was no unjustifiable discrimination (Para. 146). The measures—specifically the alternative stunning method—were deemed proportional and non-discriminatory, ensuring there was no breach of Article 14 (Para. 151).

    What’s Next?
    The implications of this decision reach beyond the courtroom. It’s about how societies navigate pluralism. Today, Europe is increasingly aware of animal welfare, yet also stands on traditions of religious freedoms. As debates rage on, will we continue finding that balance? The Belgian authorities here tried, but the ECtHR’s ruling makes clear it’s a delicate dance. After all, Belgium did offer an alternative—reversible stunning—and consulted widely. But is that enough for those who feel their faith is being restricted?

    In short, Executief van de Moslims van België and Others v. Belgium may seem to be about slaughter, but at its heart, it’s about how we decide what’s more important—faith or ethics, tradition or progress.

  • Lenis v. Greece

    Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres: The Apotheosis of Homer (1827)

    In a case that rocked Greece and caught the attention of human rights advocates across Europe, Lenis v. Greece pushed the boundaries of free speech, hate speech, and religious influence on political matters. At the heart of this saga is Amvrosios-Athanasios Lenis, the Metropolitan of Kalavryta, whose inflammatory remarks against the LGBTQI+ community sparked outrage, and ultimately, a legal showdown in the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR).

    Setting the Stage: Religious Authority Meets Political Debate

    In 2015, Greece stood at a cultural crossroads as the Hellenic Parliament prepared to debate legislation introducing civil unions for same-sex couples [§4]. This proposed law marked a significant milestone for LGBTQI+ individuals rights in a country where the Greek Orthodox Church holds immense influence. As the debate gained momentum, Amvrosios-Athanasios Lenis, a senior Orthodox Church figure, unleashed a scathing public attack on homosexuality. His blog post, dramatically titled “THE SCUM OF SOCIETY HAVE REARED THEIR HEADS! Let’s be honest SPIT ON THEM”, denounced homosexuality as a “social felony” and called for its outright condemnation [§5].

    Lenis’s words were incendiary, not merely condemning homosexuality on moral grounds but dehumanizing individuals who identified as LGBTQI+ individuals. He labeled them as “scum,” “defective,” and even “mentally ill,” urging his readers to “spit on them!” and “blacken them out!” [§5]. The media quickly picked up the story, with headlines decrying the “raving” of the Metropolitan and highlighting his inflammatory rhetoric [§6]. Lenis’s post spread like wildfire, drawing both outrage and legal attention.

    The Legal Fallout: Charges, Acquittals, and Appeals

    Lenis’s hateful remarks didn’t go unnoticed by Greek authorities. He was charged under Article 1 of Law no. 927/79, amended by Law no. 4285/14, which prohibits public incitement to violence or hatred based on sexual orientation, as well as under the Criminal Code for abuse of ecclesiastical office [§8]. However, Lenis initially dodged accountability when a local court acquitted him in 2018, concluding that his harsh words were directed at politicians supporting same-sex unions rather than at homosexual individuals themselves [§9].

    But this acquittal didn’t sit well with the public prosecutors, who promptly appealed. In January 2019, the appellate court delivered a different verdict, finding Lenis guilty of incitement to hatred and abuse of ecclesiastical office [§10]. The court’s judgment was based on a detailed review of the article, concluding that Lenis’s hateful speech wasn’t aimed solely at politicians. Rather, his remarks specifically targeted homosexuals and sought to strip them of their humanity and dignity [§10]. Lenis received a seven-month prison sentence, later reduced to five months, suspended for three years [§11].

    Lenis Appeals to the ECtHR: The Free Speech Defense

    Taking his case to the European Court of Human Rights, Lenis argued that his right to freedom of expression under Article 10 of the European Convention on Human Rights had been violated [§31]. He claimed that his words, while harsh, were an expression of his religious beliefs and political opinions, directed at politicians, not individuals. Lenis even tried to argue that the phrase “spit on them” was metaphorical, implying disdain rather than an actual call for violence [§31].

    But the ECtHR wasn’t convinced. In its assessment, the Court reiterated that while freedom of expression is a fundamental right in democratic societies, it is not absolute [§36]. Article 10 protects the right to voice opinions that may shock, offend, or disturb, but it also allows for restrictions, especially when speech crosses the line into hate speech or incitement to violence [§37]. The ECtHR found that Lenis’s article clearly went beyond religious or political critique. It was a direct attack on the LGBTQI+ community, aimed at inciting hostility, fear, and exclusion [§47].

    The Court rejected Lenis’s argument that his words were metaphorical. Phrases like “spit on them!” and “blacken them out!” were not abstract expressions but clear incitements to violence, especially in the context of a national debate on LGBTQI+ individuals rights [§48]. Moreover, the Court emphasized the power dynamics at play: Lenis wasn’t just an ordinary citizen expressing his views—he was a high-ranking religious leader with significant influence over his followers [§49]. His words carried weight, and the potential for harm was far greater due to his authority.

    The Court’s Verdict: No Protection for Hate Speech

    The ECtHR ultimately applied Article 17 of the Convention, which prevents individuals from using Convention rights to undermine the rights of others [§52]. Lenis’s hateful rhetoric, the Court found, aimed to dehumanize and incite violence against a vulnerable minority, falling squarely within the scope of Article 17. By invoking this article, the Court ensured that Lenis could not use the shield of free speech to justify hate speech and violence [§54].

    Moreover, the Court underscored the particular vulnerability of LGBTQI+ individuals, noting that discrimination based on sexual orientation is as serious as discrimination based on race or ethnicity [§53]. The dehumanizing language Lenis used, combined with his position of power and the national reach of his blog, posed a real threat to social cohesion and the safety of the LGBTQI+ community [§51]. As a result, the Court declared Lenis’s application inadmissible, upholding his conviction and sending a clear message that freedom of expression does not extend to hate speech designed to incite violence or hatred [§57].

    Final Thoughts: Free Speech vs. Hate Speech

    The Lenis v. Greece case serves as a stark reminder of the limits of free speech, particularly when it is used as a weapon to marginalize and harm others. The ECtHR’s decision reflects the fundamental principle that while free speech is essential to a functioning democracy, it cannot be exploited to incite hatred or violence against vulnerable groups. Lenis’s attempt to hide behind religious expression to justify his vitriol failed, as the Court recognized the real-world harm such speech could cause, especially when it comes from a figure of authority.

    This case reaffirms that speech promoting discrimination, exclusion, and violence—whether it comes in the form of religious rhetoric or political discourse—has no place in a democratic society. Freedom of expression is a vital right, but it must be exercised responsibly, with respect for the dignity and rights of all individuals.

  • Cyprus v. Turkey, Ukraine v. Russia (re Crimea) [GC]

    Titian, The Rape of Europa (1560-1562)

    Welcome to another dive into the world of international courts, where laws clash, and fairness is sometimes left behind. Today, we’re putting Russian courts in Crimea head-to-head with Turkish courts in Northern Cyprus. Spoiler: The courts in Crimea are in serious trouble when compared to their Turkish counterparts, and it’s not just because they swapped out the furniture without asking. Let’s break it down.

    Russia’s Courtroom Chaos in Crimea

    Ever since Russia annexed Crimea in 2014, they’ve made it their mission to replace everything Ukrainian—including the legal system. Russian courts popped up everywhere, and it seemed like the whole Ukrainian legal setup was thrown out overnight. The problem? Under international law, you can’t just sweep out the old laws and bring in a new set without a good reason. The rules here aren’t just bureaucratic fluff—they’re key to making sure everything runs fairly in territories under foreign control.

    The European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) didn’t hold back in its ruling on Ukraine v. Russia (re Crimea). They pointed out that Russia failed to follow international humanitarian law, which requires the occupying power to stick with the old laws unless absolutely necessary. In other words, Russia’s legal overhaul wasn’t justified under the rules laid out in the Hague Regulations (Article 43) and the Fourth Geneva Convention (Article 64).

    When Russia swapped out Ukraine’s legal system, they didn’t explain why it was “necessary” for security or public order—two of the only reasons you’re allowed to mess with the legal status quo in an occupied territory. The ECtHR concluded that these Russian courts couldn’t be considered “established by law” under Article 6 of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR), and as a result, they weren’t legitimate. For Crimean residents, this casts a huge shadow over any trial they face in these courts. Fair trial? Not likely.

    Turkey’s Legal Tightrope in Northern Cyprus

    Meanwhile, in Northern Cyprus, Turkey has played the long game since taking control in 1974. They set up the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (TRNC), which no one but Turkey recognizes, but here’s the key difference: They didn’t throw out the old legal system. Instead, they kept the Cypriot legal traditions intact. The TRNC courts operate under this framework, and the ECtHR ruled that these courts do meet the “established by law” requirement under Article 6 of the ECHR.

    In the Cyprus v. Turkey case, the Court recognized the TRNC’s courts as legitimate—even if the international community doesn’t recognize the TRNC itself. The continuity of the Cypriot legal system, plus Turkey’s adherence to the laws already in place, meant that residents had access to courts that could offer fair trials.

    The ECtHR’s Take: Why Crimea’s Courts Fail

    The ECtHR has made it clear in these cases that the legitimacy of courts in occupied territories hinges on whether they follow international law. In Crimea, Russia didn’t play by the rules. They ignored the legal framework they were supposed to respect, which means the courts they established don’t get the same stamp of approval as the Turkish courts in Northern Cyprus.

    In the case of Crimea, if you’re dragged into one of these Russian courts, you’re not getting a fair trial—at least not one that’s recognized internationally. The ECtHR’s ruling is a huge win for Ukrainian sovereignty, as it essentially says: “Russia, you don’t have the right to overhaul the legal system here, and your courts are out of line.”

    For the residents of Crimea, this means you can skip the local courts and take your case straight to the ECtHR. You don’t need to exhaust your options in an unfair system before seeking justice internationally.

    The Bottom Line

    So, why do Russian courts in Crimea get a bad rap while Turkish courts in Northern Cyprus get a pass? It’s all about whether the occupying power respects international law and maintains a fair, existing legal system. Russia’s sweeping changes to Crimea’s legal setup didn’t follow the rules, making their courts illegitimate. Turkey, on the other hand, kept things mostly by the book, which is why the TRNC courts are still considered fair—even if the TRNC itself isn’t recognized.

    In short: If you’re looking for justice in Crimea, you’ll have better luck heading straight to the ECtHR. But in Northern Cyprus, the courts still offer a fair shot, even in the midst of political disputes.

  • Obesnikova v Bulgaria

    Edgar Degas, Young Spartan Girls Challenging Boys (about 1860)

    Meet Eva Hristova Obesnikova, a 17-year-old Bulgarian girl with a passion for football that’s as fierce as any professional player’s drive. Eva isn’t just any football enthusiast; she’s been kicking the ball around since she could walk and was a star player on her local all-girls team. But when she turned 16, things took an unexpected turn.

    With no girls’ team available in her age group in her town, Eva did what any determined athlete would do—she started training with the local boys’ team for 16 to 18-year-olds. Her skills were top-notch, her physical fitness was certified, and her attitude was nothing short of exemplary. So, what’s the issue? Well, the Bulgarian Football Union (BFU) denied her official enrollment on the boys’ team solely because of her gender.

    A Battle Beyond the Football Field

    Feeling the sting of discrimination, Eva didn’t back down. She took her fight to the Bulgarian courts, arguing that she was being unfairly treated based on her sex—a violation of her right to private life under Article 8, in conjunction with Article 14 (prohibition of discrimination), of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR).

    Unfortunately, the domestic courts didn’t see it her way. The Bulgarian Supreme Administrative Court concluded that there was no discrimination because no other girls her age were registered in boys’ teams—talk about a catch-22!

    Taking It to the European Stage

    Undeterred, Eva has now brought her case to the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR). The case is currently under communication, and the opinions of third parties are being studied. The Court hasn’t issued a decision yet, but the case has already attracted significant attention, including a third-party intervention from the Human Rights Centre of Ghent University in Belgium.

    The Argument for Change

    The intervention from the Human Rights Centre makes a compelling case. They argue that gender-based segregation in youth sports is an outdated practice, especially when girls are denied the opportunity to play simply because there’s no team for them. Instead of being seen as an issue of gender, Eva’s situation should be viewed through the lens of equal opportunity. Mixed-gender teams are already becoming more common, and this case could be a stepping stone toward greater inclusivity.

    We’ve seen global trends pushing for mixed-gender sports teams, even at elite levels. The Tokyo 2020 Olympics featured mixed-gender events in swimming, track and field, and archery, showing that men and women can compete together. Countries like Germany, England, and the Netherlands are adjusting policies to allow girls to play on boys’ teams when there are no options available for them. It’s not just about inclusivity—it’s about making sports more representative of the society we live in today.

    When it comes to the traditional justifications for segregating boys and girls, like concerns about safety or physical differences, those arguments start to fall apart under scrutiny. Studies have shown that physical abilities vary just as much within genders as they do between them. Some girls will always have the strength, speed, and stamina to compete alongside boys. What matters is assessing individual abilities, not gender-based assumptions. In fact, courts in the US have already ruled that excluding girls based on generalizations about physical differences isn’t justifiable unless backed up with concrete evidence. Have you ever had a girl classmate who ran away from everyone else at school? It makes you realize that natural talent doesn’t depend on gender.

    One of the main arguments in this case is likely to be that the government’s position would have been stronger if there had been a girls’ team available, as they could claim that no violation would have occurred. However, this line of reasoning is outdated and weak in today’s context, as it inherently supports traditional gender roles and assumptions. The focus should not be on hypotheticals such as ‘what if there was a girls’ team,’ but rather on the central issue of whether girls, like Eva, should be allowed to play football with boys. By focusing on the availability of a girls’ team, the government avoids the larger and more important question: can girls play on boys’ teams, and is it fair to deny them the opportunity solely based on gender? The Court’s reasoning should address this fundamental question about equal rights and opportunities, rather than falling back on theoretical arguments that perpetuate outdated gender norms.

    Children’s Rights and Fair Play

    Beyond the issue of sports, there’s a strong argument from the perspective of children’s rights. The United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child (UNCRC) is clear: gender-based discrimination in sports is unacceptable. Adolescence is a critical time for development, and preventing girls from participating in sports can have long-lasting consequences on their physical health, self-esteem, and personal growth. Excluding Eva from the boys’ team based solely on her gender not only limits her opportunities in the present but could also hinder her future prospects in the sport.

    At the heart of this case is the application of Articles 8 and 14 of the ECHR. Article 8 guarantees the right to respect for private and family life, which includes the right to participate in recreational activities like sports. Article 14 prohibits discrimination, and any decision to exclude someone based on sex needs to be backed by “very weighty reasons.” In Eva’s case, it’s hard to see how the BFU’s decision meets that standard.

    What’s Really at Stake

    Eva’s case isn’t just about one girl wanting to play football with the boys. It’s about challenging the deep-rooted stereotypes that still exist in sports and beyond. If the ECtHR rules in her favor, it could set a significant precedent for girls and women across Europe, showing that ability, not gender, should be the determining factor in who gets to play.

    By denying Eva the opportunity to compete, are we missing out on her talent, potential, and passion? More importantly, are we sending a message that gender matters more than skill? If policies were focused on talent and desire rather than rigid gender rules, how many other athletes like Eva could flourish?

    What Could Happen Next?

    There are two ways this could go. If the Court finds that Eva’s rights under Articles 8 and 14 were violated, it could require Bulgaria to change its policies, allowing girls to join boys’ teams when there’s no girls’ team available. This would be a huge win for gender equality in sports, setting a new standard for inclusivity. On the other hand, if the Court sides with the Bulgarian authorities and rules that no violation occurred, it could reinforce outdated ideas about gender segregation, making it harder for girls like Eva to break through these barriers in the future.

    What Do You Think?

    So, here’s where I turn the question over to you, dear readers. Should girls be allowed to play on boys’ teams when no equivalent girls’ team exists? Is it time to rethink gender segregation in youth sports? And how do we balance concerns about safety with the need to provide equal opportunities?

    It’s easy to look at this case and see just another story about someone fighting the system. But the truth is, Eva’s battle is about something much bigger. It’s about challenging old traditions, breaking down barriers, and making sure that everyone—no matter their gender—gets the chance to play.

    Let’s get a lively discussion going! Drop your thoughts in the comments below.


    Stay tuned for updates on this groundbreaking case. Whether you’re a sports enthusiast, a human rights advocate, or just love a good underdog story, Eva’s fight is one to watch. Until next time, keep questioning the status quo and championing equality.

  • Kurski v. Poland

    Botticelli, Calumny of Apelles (1494-1495)

    The Setup: The Politics of Public Apologies

    Picture this: a live TV debate, a heated politician, and a national newspaper all in the same ring. The main character? Jacek Kurski, a Polish MP back in 2006, ready to call out what he claimed was a “mass propaganda” machine fueled by none other than Gazeta Wyborcza, a well-known Polish newspaper. The plot thickens as Kurski brandishes a copy of the newspaper, accusing them of being in bed with an oil company, financing anti-political party propaganda. That’s right, according to Kurski, they weren’t just selling newspapers—they were allegedly selling political attacks (§ 8)​.

    Cue the fallout: the newspaper, naturally, was not amused. They took Kurski to court, claiming he had smeared their reputation and demanded not only a financial penalty but—wait for it—a public apology! And thus began the legal journey of Kurski, who ended up fighting this all the way to the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) (§§10-12)​.

    The ECtHR Drama: To Apologize or Not to Apologize

    Now, in a world where politicians throw around accusations like confetti, the idea of being ordered to apologize might seem quaint, or even a little amusing. But in Kurski’s case, the stakes were high. Not only did the Polish courts rule against him, but they even gave the newspaper the right to publish an apology on his behalf when he refused to do it himself. Ouch (§30)​.

    So Kurski wasn’t going down without a fight. He turned to the ECtHR, claiming that this whole forced-apology saga violated his right to freedom of expression under Article 10 of the European Convention. After all, politicians love a good debate, right? Shouldn’t they have a bit more leeway when accusing newspapers of shady oil deals? (§§34-35)​.

    The European Court: Let the Politicians Speak

    The ECtHR agreed, much to the likely horror of PR professionals everywhere. The Court concluded that while Kurski’s claims were “quite serious” (I mean, oil-financed propaganda?), Gazeta Wyborcza wasn’t just any newspaper—it was a major player in public debate (§§49-50)​. And when you’re in the big leagues of media, the Court says, you should expect a bit more criticism than the average Joe. The lesson here: newspapers might just have to put up with a politician’s pointed finger, even if it’s wielding wild allegations about oil money and political takedowns.

    What’s more, the Court found that asking Kurski to prove his conspiracy theory wasn’t fair game. This wasn’t a private citizen he was talking about; it was a national media heavyweight involved in public debate (§56)​. The Court also took issue with the hefty fines and costs imposed on Kurski, pointing out that this “apology” cost nearly 18 times the average monthly salary in Poland (§57)​.

    The Verdict: Freedom Wins… for Now

    In the end, Kurski walked away with 12,000 euros in damages and a newfound sense of justice, with the ECtHR ruling that the Polish courts had trampled on his right to free speech (§63)​.

    But here’s the twist: while the ECtHR protected Kurski’s freedom of expression, it left open the door for newspapers to fight back in similar situations. The balance between protecting reputations and freedom of speech is a delicate dance, and the judgment might have been a win for Kurski, but it leaves plenty of room for future showdowns in the court of public opinion (§58)​.

    Let’s be realwatching a politician have to apologize to a newspaper he accused of oil-financed propaganda is exactly the kind of drama that makes ECtHR rulings a must-read. And for all the legal back-and-forth, Kurski v. Poland shows us that sometimes, even wild accusations deserve their day in court. Who needs soap operas when you have real-life political theater like this?

  • J.K. and Others v. Sweden

    Caravaggio, Rest on the Flight into Egypt (c. 1597)

    Sweden- the land of ABBA, IKEA, and humanitarian values—or so we thought. Today’s case of J.K. and Others v. Sweden exposes something far more intriguing: what happens when the love of legal gymnastics leaves an entire family on the verge of catastrophe.

    It’s like when your husband beats you, and when you go to your father’s house for safety, instead of helping you, he tries to reconcile you with the abuser and sends you back. That’s essentially what Sweden tried to do in the case of J.K. and Others v. Sweden. But in this case, it wasn’t just a husband—it was al-Qaeda. And the tragic comedy of it all? Some people, including seven judges, thought that sending this family back into the hands of their would-be murderers wasn’t a problem at all.

    The Setup: A Family Caught in the Crossfire

    Imagine being part of a family that endured assassination attempts, bombings, and the cold-blooded murder of your daughter. Now, let’s say your only chance at survival is fleeing to a supposedly safe country—Sweden. Sounds like the beginning of a happy ending, right? Not so fast.

    Sweden, in its infinite wisdom, looked at this family’s plight and said: “Sure, your house was bombed, your daughter was murdered, and you’re on a hit list. But are you sure you’re really in danger anymore? Haven’t things calmed down a bit?” The Swedish Migration Agency believed that the Iraqi authorities could “probably” protect the family. Oh yes, those highly reliable Iraqi law enforcement agencies that al-Qaeda just loves to ignore.

    The Tragedy: Oh, They Almost Missed the Point

    Seven of the ECtHR judges, clearly enjoying their deep dive into the intricacies of legal theory, thought the Swedish government did nothing wrong. They didn’t want to recognize the obvious violation under Article 3 of the Convention. Their argument? Sure, the family was persecuted, but since the danger “stopped” when they fled Iraq, what’s the harm in sending them back? Right, because we all know fleeing your home and going into hiding means the danger magically disappears.

    The Rest of the Court (Thankfully) Got It

    Thankfully, the other ten judges weren’t so far gone into their legal textbooks that they forgot basic human compassion. They recognized that deporting this family back to Iraq—where al-Qaeda still had them on their hit list—would definitely lead to a violation of their rights under Article 3 (you know, the one that protects against inhuman and degrading treatment).

    Judge Bianku summed it up perfectly: when a country is as volatile as Iraq and the family’s persecution was as serious as this, any “likelihood” of safety isn’t good enough. You need substantial proof that they’ll be safe. And “maybe they’ll be okay” doesn’t cut it when al-Qaeda is involved.

    The Punchline: The Swedish Government’s Legal Circus

    The Swedish government’s stance was absurd: “Sure, you were attacked by al-Qaeda multiple times, but since you managed to escape, surely you’ll be fine now!” The seven dissenting judges seemed to agree, as if sending this family back was no big deal. After all, they weren’t the ones dodging bullets or living in fear every day, right?

    But here’s where it gets tragicomically absurd: what else did the family need to prove? Should they have suffered one more assassination attempt? Or perhaps sent a personal letter from al-Qaeda saying: “Yes, we’ll definitely kill them when they return”? It’s baffling that anyone could think these dangers had magically disappeared.

    The Real Issue: Legal Detachment from Humanity

    This case highlights what happens when legal reasoning goes too far down the rabbit hole. The seven dissenting judges, so obsessed with theoretical principles, seemed to forget that their decision affected real human lives. Sometimes, getting lost in the law makes you lose touch with basic humanity—and this family, merely trying to survive, was almost destroyed by that detachment.

    Final Thoughts: Sweden, What Happened to You?

    Sweden, once known for its compassion, almost sent this family straight back into the arms of their killers. What could have justified it? Oh yes, they could be a “burden” on the state. Or maybe the authorities just didn’t feel like doing any more paperwork.

    Thank goodness ten judges had enough sense to recognize that this family’s life was worth more than a legal technicality. But here’s a question: why did we come so close to tragedy?

    What do you think? Should Sweden and the dissenting judges have been more cautious? Let’s hope we never see another family pushed to the edge like this. Share your thoughts below!

  • De Legé v. the Netherlands

    Marinus van Reymerswale – The Tax Collector

    Tax law and self-incrimination: two areas that, when they collide, can raise serious questions about personal rights and state overreach. Today, we’re diving into the De Legé v. the Netherlands case, where a man’s foreign bank account in Luxembourg brought him face-to-face with the limits of the privilege against self-incrimination (“Nemo tenetur se ipsum accusare” – the privilege against self-incrimination). Was this a targeted request or an unfair tax trap?

    The Setup: The Taxman Knows Where You Bank

    In 2007, the Dutch Tax and Customs Administration sought details from Mr. De Legé regarding a foreign bank account he held with X Bank in Luxembourg. The tax inspector demanded that Mr. De Legé declare any foreign accounts and provide bank statements from 1995 to 2000. Smelling trouble, Mr. De Legé invoked his privilege against self-incrimination, arguing that the authorities couldn’t get these documents without his cooperation, and the request amounted to coercion.

    The tax authorities, however, were unrelenting. They imposed tax adjustments and fines, but that wasn’t all. A provisional judge ordered Mr. De Legé to either cough up the documents or face hefty penalty payments. Cornered, Mr. De Legé finally submitted the documents, which were used to reduce his fines—but the damage was done.

    The Legal Fight: Can Pre-Existing Documents be Protected?

    Mr. De Legé wasn’t about to go down without a fight. He brought his case to the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR), claiming the Dutch authorities violated his privilege against self-incrimination under Article 6 of the European Convention on Human Rights. His argument: coercing him to provide these bank statements was a breach of his rights.

    Citing precedents like J.B. v. Switzerland and Chambaz v. Switzerland, De Legé argued that pre-existing documents shouldn’t be treated as evidence “independent of the will of the suspect” (as defined in Saunders v. the UK), especially if the authorities needed coercion to obtain them.

    The Ruling: No Violation, No Fishing

    But here’s where it gets interesting. The ECtHR didn’t agree. In fact, the Court ruled that the privilege against self-incrimination did not apply in this case because the documents were “pre-existing” and the authorities already knew they existed (para. 78). According to the Court, this wasn’t a “fishing expedition,” where authorities blindly hunt for incriminating evidence (Funke v. France), but a specific, targeted request.

    The ECtHR concluded that the privilege against self-incrimination protects individuals from being compelled to create incriminating evidence, but it doesn’t extend to documents that already exist independently of the suspect’s will (para. 75). For the tax authorities, this was a green light to use the documents, reducing Mr. De Legé’s fines without infringing on his rights.

    A Critical Take: Is This a Loophole for Tax Overreach?

    Here’s where the judgment stings: While the Court insists this wasn’t a “fishing expedition,” the coercive nature of the state’s demands remains undeniable. Mr. De Legé was forced to produce documents that would have stayed hidden without his cooperation. Doesn’t that undermine the spirit of the privilege against self-incrimination?

    Critics argue that by narrowing the scope of this privilege to exclude pre-existing documents, the Court risks giving tax authorities more leeway to pressure individuals into revealing incriminating evidence. The case reveals a broader concern: as financial regulation tightens across Europe, does this ruling give tax authorities too much power to compel self-incriminating disclosures?

    The decision leans heavily on the distinction between evidence that exists independently of a suspect’s will and testimonial evidence, but that line feels increasingly blurred in financial matters. By not fully protecting individuals from being compelled to hand over sensitive financial documents, the ECtHR may have created a dangerous precedent that could weaken rights in the context of tax enforcement.

    The Final Takeaway: The Thin Line Between Compliance and Coercion

    So, what do we take away from De Legé v. the Netherlands? While the privilege against self-incrimination is still alive and well, it seems to be shrinking in scope, especially when it comes to financial documents. If the authorities know the documents exist, the Court says they can compel you to hand them over without violating your rights.

    Is that fair? Or are we letting tax law inch a little too close to our fundamental rights?

    What do you think? Did the ECtHR protect fundamental rights here, or did it bend the rules too much in favor of the tax authorities? Let me know your thoughts!

  • Halet v. Luxembourg [GC]

    Tiepolo, Time Unveiling Truth (c. 1745–1750)

    In a landmark decision by the Grand Chamber of the European Court of Human Rights, the case of Halet v. Luxembourg has set a new precedent for the protection of whistleblowers. This ruling comes just in time for the adoption of whistleblower legislation in countries like Spain, further reflecting the growing recognition of whistleblower rights in Europe.

    Raphaël Halet, a former employee of PricewaterhouseCoopers (PwC), was convicted of disclosing confidential tax documents to the media concerning the tax practices of multinational companies (the infamous LuxLeaks). The case revolved around a critical balance between Halet’s right to freedom of expression under Article 10 of the European Convention on Human Rights and his duty to maintain professional secrecy at PwC.

    The Background

    Halet handed over 14 tax returns and two covering letters to a journalist, who used them to expose questionable tax arrangements between multinational companies and Luxembourg’s tax authorities. Following his actions, Halet was dismissed by PwC and later fined €1,000 in criminal proceedings for breaching professional secrecy. The initial Chamber judgment of May 11, 2021, found no violation of Article 10, concluding that the public interest in the disclosed information did not outweigh the damage caused to PwC (§ 5). However, on February 14, 2023, the Grand Chamber reversed this decision.

    The Six Whistleblowing Criteria

    Drawing on the principles established in Guja v. Moldova, the Grand Chamber reiterated the six key criteria to assess whether a whistleblower can claim protection under Article 10 (§§ 114-154):

    1. The Channels Used: Public disclosure should only be a last resort. However, in Halet’s case, internal channels were ineffective, and direct disclosure to the media was justified (§§ 121-123).
    2. Authenticity of the Information: The documents provided by Halet were accurate and authentic, meeting this criterion (§§ 124-127).
    3. Good Faith: Halet acted without seeking personal gain, demonstrating good faith (§§ 128-130).
    4. Public Interest: The disclosed documents contributed significantly to an ongoing debate about tax evasion in Europe, making the public interest undeniable (§§ 131-144).
    5. Detriment Caused: While PwC suffered reputational damage, the Grand Chamber ruled that the public interest in revealing the tax practices outweighed this detriment (§§ 145-148).
    6. Severity of the Sanction: The fine of €1,000, though relatively small, was deemed disproportionate given the significant public interest in the information disclosed (§§ 149-154).

    A Shift in the Court’s Approach

    One of the most notable aspects of the judgment is the Grand Chamber’s nuanced balancing of the competing interests. The court emphasized the critical role whistleblowers play in democratic societies, particularly in exposing matters of public interest (§§ 132-134). It also underlined the changing European landscape, noting the developments in legal protections for whistleblowers at both the national and EU levels.

    The judgment was not without its controversies. The dissenting opinions of Judges Ravarani, Mourou-Vikström, Chanturia, and Sabato, who voted against the majority decision, raise thought-provoking points about the limits of whistleblower protections and the importance of professional secrecy (Joint Dissenting Opinion ). Judge Kjølbro also dissented, highlighting concerns about the proportionality of the sanction and questioning whether the public interest truly outweighed the harm caused.

    A Victory for Whistleblowers

    Ultimately, this ruling in Halet v. Luxembourg establishes a clearer path for whistleblowers seeking protection under Article 10. With the Grand Chamber finding a 12-5 majority in favor of Halet, the decision consolidates the European Court’s previous case-law on whistleblowing and freedom of expression.

    So, what do you think? Should whistleblowers like Halet receive greater protection under Article 10, even at the cost of breaching professional secrecy? Do you agree with the dissenting judges, or is the majority view a necessary stance to foster transparency?

    Let me know your thoughts!

  • Antović and Mirković v. Montenegro

    Raphael, The School of Athens (1509-1511)

    Today, let’s unpack the case of Antović and Mirković v. Montenegro (2017)—a story where two university professors found themselves at odds with the watchful eyes of surveillance cameras installed in their auditoriums. The central question here? Does the presence of video surveillance in these spaces cross the line and violate privacy rights under Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights?

    The Facts of the Case:

    In February 2011, the University of Montenegro decided to install video surveillance in seven auditoriums and outside the Dean’s office, citing the need to protect property and ensure the safety of students. However, the professors argued that the move was unnecessary and intrusive—after all, the only items in the auditoriums were some desks, chairs, and a blackboard. There wasn’t much of value to protect (§§ 6-8).

    The professors took their complaints to the Personal Data Protection Agency, claiming that recording their teaching activities without consent violated their privacy rights. The Agency agreed and ordered the university to remove the cameras, stating that the surveillance was disproportionate and unlawful under Montenegro’s Personal Data Protection Act (§ 11).

    Meanwhile, on 19 January 2012, the professors filed a civil lawsuit against the University of Montenegro, the Personal Data Protection Agency, and the State of Montenegro, seeking compensation for the violation of their privacy rights. They argued that the unauthorized collection and processing of their data lacked legal grounds and was not necessary in a democratic society (Paragraph 13). However, both the Court of First Instance and the High Court rejected their claim, ruling that video surveillance in a public university setting did not interfere with their private lives (§§ 14-17).

    When the case went to the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR), the Court recognized a violation of the professors’ privacy rights, ruling that the surveillance amounted to an unnecessary intrusion into their professional lives (§§ 55-60).

    A Divided Opinion—The Dissenters Speak Up:

    But not all the judges agreed with the ruling. Judges Spano, Bianku, and Kjølbro took a different stance, arguing that university auditoriums aren’t strictly private spaces—they are more like professional venues, where professors engage with students in a structured, semi-public setting. According to the dissenting judges, the professors couldn’t reasonably expect complete privacy while delivering lectures, especially since the cameras weren’t recording audio and the footage was only accessible to the Dean (§§ 8-12).

    In the dissenters’ view, the surveillance served a legitimate purpose: ensuring the safety of students and university property. They emphasized that the professors were notified about the cameras, and the recordings were erased after 30 days. To them, it wasn’t about privacy but rather oversight in a professional context.

    Who’s Right?

    This raises the real question: Is a university auditorium a sacred space that demands full privacy? The majority of the Court believed that even though it’s not a private room, the space still fosters intellectual exchange and personal interactions that deserve protection. The dissenters, on the other hand, saw the auditorium as more of a semi-public venue where some oversight should be expected.

    What’s your take? Should university auditoriums be treated as private intellectual havens where surveillance has no place? Or are they simply public venues where safety and security sometimes call for a watchful eye?When it comes to university auditoriums, should privacy be sacred, or is surveillance justified?