CASE OF ZDANOKA v. LATVIA

Application no. 58278/00 · Delivered 2006-03-16 · ECLI:CE:ECHR:2006:0316JUD005827800 · Languages: EN · EN · FR

Application no.
58278/00
Delivered
2006-03-16
Respondent State
LVA
Conclusion
Preliminary objection dismissed (lack of victim status);No violation of P1-3;Not necessary to examine Arts. 10 and 11
Convention articles
34, P1-3
Importance
Key case
Original
HUDOC ↗
PresidentLuzius WildhaberJudgeChristos RozakisJudgeJean-Paul CostaJudgeNicolas BratzaJudgeBoštjan M. ZupančičJudgeLoukis LoucaidesJudgeRıza TürmenJudgeJosep CasadevallJudgeAndrás BakaJudgeRait MarusteJudgeJavier Borrego BorregoJudgeElisabet Fura-SandströmJudgeAlvina GyulumyanJudgeLjiljana MijovićJudgeDean SpielmannJudgeRenate JaegerJudgeLawrence EarlyJudgeDeputy Grand Chamber RegistrarAd hoc judgeJautrite Briede
Summary
Preparing…

GRAND CHAMBER

CASE OF ŽDANOKA v. LATVIA

(Application no. 58278/00)

JUDGMENT

STRASBOURG

16 March 2006

In the case of Ždanoka v. Latvia,

The European Court of Human Rights, sitting as a Grand Chamber composed of:

Luzius Wildhaber, President,

Christos Rozakis,

Jean-Paul Costa,

Nicolas Bratza,

Boštjan M. Zupančič,

Loukis Loucaides,

Rıza Türmen,

Josep Casadevall,

András Baka,

Rait Maruste,

Javier Borrego Borrego,

Elisabet Fura-Sandström,

Alvina Gyulumyan,

Ljiljana Mijović,

Dean Spielmann,

Renate Jaeger, judges,

Jautrite Briede, ad hoc judge,

and Lawrence Early, Deputy Grand Chamber Registrar,

Having deliberated in private on 1 June 2005 and 15 February 2006,

Delivers the following judgment, which was adopted on the last-mentioned date:

PROCEDURE

There appeared before the Court:

(a) for the Government Ms I. Reine, Agent,

Mr E. Plaksins, Counsel;

(b) for the applicant Mr W. Bowring, Counsel.

The Court heard addresses by Mr Bowring and Ms Reine.

THE FACTS

I. THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF THE CASE

A. The historical context and the background to the case

The above-mentioned Declaration was adopted by 139 out of a total of 201 Supreme Council members, with one abstention. Fifty-seven members of the Līdztiesība parliamentary bloc (“Equal Rights”, in fact the CPL group), including the applicant, did not vote. On the same day, 4 May 1990, the Central Committee of the CPL adopted a resolution strongly criticising the Declaration and calling on the President of the Soviet Union to intervene.

(a) Having failed to obtain a majority on the Supreme Council in the democratic elections of March 1990, the CPL and the other organisations listed in section 5(6) of the Parliamentary Elections Act decided to take the unconstitutional route and set up the Latvian Public Rescue Committee, which attempted to usurp power and to dissolve the Supreme Council and the legitimate government of Latvia. Such actions were contrary not only to Article 2 of the 1922 Constitution, which stated that sovereign power was vested in the people, but also to Article 2 of the Constitution of the Latvian SSR, which conferred authority to act on behalf of the people on elected councils (soviets) alone.

(b) The Central Committee of the CPL provided financial support to the special unit of the Soviet police which was entirely responsible for the fatal incidents of January 1991 (see paragraphs 22-23 above); at the same time, the Latvian Public Rescue Committee publicly expressed its support for this militarised body.

(c) During the coup of August 1991 the Central Committee of the CPL openly declared its support for the National State of Emergency Committee, set up an “operational group” with a view to providing assistance to it and published an appeal calling on the public to comply with the regime imposed by this self-proclaimed and unconstitutional body.

B. The 1997 municipal elections

C. The 1998 parliamentary elections

On 28 July 1998 the list was submitted to the Central Electoral Commission for registration. In accordance with the requirements of the Parliamentary Elections Act, the applicant signed the list and attached to it a written statement identical to the one she had submitted prior to the municipal elections. As she had done for the 1997 elections, she likewise sent a letter to the Central Electoral Commission explaining her situation and arguing that the restrictions in question were incompatible with the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights and with Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 to the Convention.

D. The procedure for determining the applicant’s participation in the CPL

E. The 2002 parliamentary elections

F. Elections to the European Parliament

II. RELEVANT DOMESTIC LAW AND PRACTICE

A. Provisions regarding Latvia’s status

“The Supreme Council of the Latvian SSR decides:

(1) in recognition of the supremacy of international law over the provisions of national law, to consider illegal the Pact of 23 August 1939 between the USSR and Germany and the subsequent liquidation of the sovereignty of the Republic of Latvia through the USSR’s military aggression on 17 June 1940;

(2) to declare null and void the Declaration by the Parliament [Saeima] of Latvia, adopted on 21 July 1940, on Latvia’s integration into the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics;

(3) to restore the legal effect of the Constitution [Satversme] of the Republic of Latvia, adopted on 15 February 1922 by the Constituent Assembly [Satversmes sapulce], throughout the entire territory of Latvia. The official name of the Latvian State shall be the REPUBLIC of LATVIA, abbreviated to LATVIA;

(4) to suspend the Constitution of the Republic of Latvia pending the adoption of a new version of the Constitution, with the exception of those Articles which define the constitutional and legal foundation of the Latvian State and which, in accordance with Article 77 of the same Constitution, may only be amended by referendum, namely: Article 1 – Latvia is an independent and democratic republic.

Article 2 – The sovereign power of the State of Latvia is vested in the Latvian people.

Article 3 – The territory of the State of Latvia, as established by international agreements, consists of Vidzeme, Latgale, Kurzeme and Zemgale.

Article 6 – Parliament [Saeima] shall be elected in general, equal, direct and secret elections, based on proportional representation.

Article 6 of the Constitution shall be applied after the restoration of the State and administrative structures of the independent Republic of Latvia, which will guarantee free elections;

(5) to introduce a transition period for the re-establishment of the Republic of Latvia’s de facto sovereignty, which will end with the convening of the Parliament of the Republic of Latvia. During the transition period, supreme power shall be exercised by the Supreme Council of the Republic of Latvia;

(6) during the transition period, to accept the application of those constitutional and other legal provisions of the Latvian SSR which are in force in the territory of the Latvian SSR when the present Declaration is adopted, in so far as those provisions do not contradict Articles 1, 2, 3 and 6 of the Constitution of the Republic of Latvia. Disputes on matters relating to the application of legislative texts will be referred to the Constitutional Court of the Republic of Latvia.

During the transition period, only the Supreme Council of the Republic of Latvia shall adopt new legislation or amend existing legislation;

(7) to set up a commission to draft a new version of the Constitution of the Republic of Latvia that will correspond to the current political, economic and social situation in Latvia;

(8) to guarantee social, economic and cultural rights, as well as universally recognised political freedoms compatible with international instruments of human rights, to citizens of the Republic of Latvia and citizens of other States permanently residing in Latvia. This shall apply to citizens of the USSR who wish to live in Latvia without acquiring Latvian nationality;

(9) to base relations between the Republic of Latvia and the USSR on the Peace Treaty of 11 August 1920 between Latvia and Russia, which is still in force and which recognises the independence of the Latvian State for all time. A governmental commission shall be set up to conduct the negotiations with the USSR.”

“The Supreme Council of the Republic of Latvia decides:

(1) to declare that Latvia is an independent and democratic republic in which the sovereign power of the State of Latvia belongs to the Latvian people, the status of which as a State is defined by the Constitution of 15 February 1922;

(2) to repeal paragraph 5 of the Declaration of 4 May 1990 on the Restoration of the Independence of the Republic of Latvia, establishing a transition period for the de facto restoration of the Republic of Latvia’s State sovereignty;

(3) until such time as the occupation and annexation is ended and Parliament is convened, supreme State power in the Republic of Latvia shall be fully exercised by the Supreme Council of the Republic of Latvia. Only those laws and decrees enacted by the supreme governing and administrative authorities of the Republic of Latvia shall be in force in its territory;

(4) this constitutional law shall enter into force on the date of its enactment.”

B. The status of the CPSU and the CPL

“The leading and guiding force of Soviet society and the nucleus of its political system and of all State organisations and public organisations is the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. The CPSU exists for the people and serves the people.

The Communist Party, armed with Marxism-Leninism, determines the general perspectives of the development of society and the course of the USSR’s domestic and foreign policy, directs the great constructive work of the Soviet people, and imparts a planned, systematic and theoretically substantiated character to their struggle for the victory of communism.

All party organisations shall function within the framework of the Constitution of the USSR.”

“On 20 August 1991 the Internationalist Front of Workers of the Latvian SSR, the United Council of Labour Collectives, the Republican Council of War and Labour Veterans, the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Latvia and the Central Committee of the Latvian Union of Communist Youth issued a proclamation informing the Republic’s population that a state of emergency had been decreed in Latvia and encouraging all private individuals to oppose those who did not submit to the orders of the National State of Emergency Committee. In so doing, the above-mentioned organisations ... declared their support for the organisers of the coup d’état and encouraged other individuals to do the same.

The actions of those organisations are contrary to Articles 4, 6 and 49 of the Latvian Constitution, which state that Latvian citizens are entitled to form parties and other associations only if their objectives and practical activities are not aimed at the violent transformation or overthrow of the existing constitutional order ... and that associations must observe the Constitution and legislation and act in accordance with their provisions.

The Supreme Council of the Republic of Latvia decrees:

“... In May 1990 the Communist Party of Latvia, the Internationalist Front of Workers of the Latvian SSR, the United Council of Labour Collectives and the Republican Council of War and Labour Veterans set up the Committee for the Defence of the Constitution of the USSR and the Latvian SSR and the Rights of Citizens, which was renamed the Latvian Public Rescue Committee on 25 November 1990 ...

On 15 January 1991 the Latvian Public Rescue Committee declared that it was seizing power and dissolving the Supreme Council and the Government of the Republic of Latvia.

In August 1991 the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Latvia [and the other above-mentioned organisations] supported the coup ...

Having regard to the preceding, the Supreme Council of the Republic of Latvia decrees:

C. The electoral legislation

Article 9

“All citizens of Latvia who enjoy full civic rights and who have reached the age of 21 on the day of the elections may be elected to Parliament.”

Article 64

“Legislative power lies with Parliament and with the people, in the conditions and to the extent provided for by this Constitution.”

Article 91

“All persons in Latvia shall be equal before the law and the courts. Human rights shall be exercised without discrimination of any kind.”

Article 101

“All citizens of Latvia are entitled to participate, in accordance with the law, in the activities of the State and of local government ...”

Section 4

“All Latvian citizens who have reached the age of 21 on the date of the elections may be elected to Parliament, on condition that they are not concerned by one of the restrictions provided for in section 5 of the present Act.”

Section 5

“The following may not stand as candidates in elections or be elected to Parliament:

...

(6) persons who actively participated [darbojušās] after 13 January 1991 in the CPSU (CPL), the Internationalist Front of Workers of the Latvian SSR, the United Council of Labour Collectives, the Organisation of War and Labour Veterans or the Latvian Public Rescue Committee, or in their regional committees; ...” Section 11

“The following documents must be appended to the list of candidates:

...

(3) a signed declaration by each candidate on the list confirming that he or she meets the requirements of section 4 of this Act and that he or she is not concerned by section 5(1)-(6) of the present Act; ...” Section 13

“...

(2) Once registered, the candidate lists are definitive, and the Central Electoral Commission may make only the following corrections:

(a) the candidate is not a citizen enjoying full civic rights (sections 4 and 5 above);

...

(3) ... [A] candidate shall be removed from the list on the basis of a statement from the relevant authority or of a court decision. The fact that the candidate:

...

Article 233-1

“A request for a statement of restriction on electoral rights may be submitted by the prosecutor ...

The request must be submitted to the court in whose territorial jurisdiction is situated the home of the person in respect of whom the attestation of a restriction on electoral rights is requested.

The request may be submitted where an electoral commission has registered a list of candidates which includes ... a citizen in respect of whom there is evidence that, subsequent to 13 January 1991, he or she actively participated in the CPSU (in the CPL) ... A request concerning a person included in the list of candidates may also be submitted once the elections have taken place.

The request must be accompanied by a statement from the electoral commission confirming that the person in question has stood as a candidate in elections and that the list in question has been registered, as well as by evidence confirming the allegations made in the request.”

Article 233-3

“After examining the request, the court shall give its judgment:

(1) finding that, after 13 January 1991, the person concerned did actively participate in the CPSU (in the CPL) ...;

(2) declaring the request ill-founded and dismissing it ...”

D. Proposals to repeal the disputed restrictions

E. The Constitutional Court’s judgment of 30 August 2000

In that judgment, adopted by four votes to three, the Constitutional Court first reiterated the general principles laid down in the settled case-law of the Convention institutions in applying Article 14 of the Convention and Article 3 of Protocol No. 1. It further held:

“4. The argument that the provisions complained of, forbidding certain Latvian citizens from standing as candidates or being elected to Parliament and municipal councils, discriminate against them on the basis of their political allegiance is without foundation ... The impugned provisions do not provide for a difference in treatment on the basis of an individual’s political convictions (opinions) but for a restriction on electoral rights for having acted against the re-established democratic order after 13 January 1991 ...

Accordingly, Parliament limited the restrictions to the degree of each individual’s personal responsibility [individuālās atbildības pakāpe] in carrying out those organisations’ objectives and programmes, and the restriction on the right to be elected to Parliament or to a municipal council ... is related to the specific individual’s activities in the respective ... associations.

In itself, formal membership of the above-mentioned organisations cannot serve as a basis for preventing an individual from standing as candidate or being elected to Parliament ...

Consequently, the impugned provisions are directed only against those who attempted, subsequent to 13 January 1991 and in the presence of the army of occupation, to re-establish the former regime through active participation [ar aktīvu darbību]; on the other hand, they do not affect persons who have differing political convictions (opinions). The tendency of certain courts to concentrate solely on the finding of the fact of formal membership and not to evaluate the person’s behaviour is inconsistent with the objectives sought by Parliament in enacting the provision in issue ...

Consequently, the aim of the restrictions on passive electoral rights is to protect the democratic State order, national security and territorial integrity of Latvia. The impugned provisions are not directed against pluralism of ideas in Latvia or against a person’s political opinions, but against those who, through their active participation, have attempted to overthrow the democratic State order ... The exercise of human rights may not be directed against democracy as such ...

The substance and effectiveness of law is demonstrated in its ethical nature [ētiskums]. A democratic society has a legitimate interest in requiring loyalty to democracy from its political representatives. In establishing restrictions, the candidates’ honour and reputation is not challenged, in the sense of personal legal benefit [personisks tiesisks labums]; what is challenged is the worthiness of the persons in question to represent the people in Parliament or in the relevant municipal council. These restrictions concern persons who were permanent agents of the occupying power’s repressive regime, or who, after 13 January 1991, participated in the organisations mentioned in the impugned provisions and actively fought against the re-established Latvian Constitution and State ...

The argument ... that democratic State order must be protected against individuals who are not ethically qualified to become representatives of a democratic State at political or administrative level ... is well-founded ...

... The removal from the list of a candidate who was involved in the above-mentioned organisations is not an arbitrary administrative decision; it is based on an individual judgment by a court. In accordance with the law, evaluation of individual responsibility comes under the jurisdiction of the courts ...

However, Parliament, by periodically examining the political situation in the State and the necessity and merits of the restrictions, should decide to establish a time-limit on these restrictions ... since such limitations on passive electoral rights may exist only for a specific period.”

F. The European Parliament Elections Act

THE LAW

I. THE GOVERNMENT’S PRELIMINARY OBJECTION

II. ALLEGED VIOLATION OF ARTICLE 3 OF PROTOCOL No. 1

“The High Contracting Parties undertake to hold free elections at reasonable intervals by secret ballot, under conditions which will ensure the free expression of the opinion of the people in the choice of the legislature.”

A. The Chamber’s judgment

B. The parties’ submissions

C. The Court’s assessment

(a) Democracy and its protection in the Convention system

“The Court considers that a State cannot be required to wait, before intervening, until a political party has seized power and begun to take concrete steps to implement a policy incompatible with the standards of the Convention and democracy, even though the danger of that policy for democracy is sufficiently established and imminent. The Court accepts that where the presence of such a danger has been established by the national courts, after detailed scrutiny subjected to rigorous European supervision, a State may ‘reasonably forestall the execution of such a policy, which is incompatible with the Convention’s provisions, before an attempt is made to implement it through concrete steps that might prejudice civil peace and the country’s democratic regime’. ...”

(b) The Court’s test under Article 3 of Protocol No. 1

(c) The Court’s conclusion as to the principles to be applied under Article 3 of Protocol No. 1

(a) Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 is akin to other Convention provisions protecting various forms of civic and political rights such as, for example, Article 10 which secures the right to freedom of expression or Article 11 which guarantees the right to freedom of association including the individual’s right to political association with others by way of party membership. There is undoubtedly a link between all of these provisions, namely the need to guarantee respect for pluralism of opinion in a democratic society through the exercise of civic and political freedoms. In addition, the Convention and the Protocols must be seen as a whole. However, where an interference with Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 is in issue the Court should not automatically adhere to the same criteria as those applied with regard to the interference permitted by the second paragraphs of Articles 8 to 11 of the Convention, and it should not necessarily base its conclusions under Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 on the principles derived from the application of Articles 8 to 11 of the Convention. Because of the relevance of Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 to the institutional order of the State, this provision is cast in very different terms from Articles 8 to 11 of the Convention. Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 is phrased in collective and general terms, although it has been interpreted by the Court as also implying specific individual rights. The standards to be applied for establishing compliance with Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 must therefore be considered to be less stringent than those applied under Articles 8 to 11 of the Convention.

(b) The concept of “implied limitations” under Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 is of major importance for the determination of the relevance of the aims pursued by the restrictions on the rights guaranteed by this provision. Given that Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 is not limited by a specific list of “legitimate aims” such as those enumerated in Articles 8 to 11 of the Convention, the Contracting States are therefore free to rely on an aim not contained in that list to justify a restriction, provided that the compatibility of that aim with the principle of the rule of law and the general objectives of the Convention is proved in the particular circumstances of a case.

(c) The “implied limitations” concept under Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 also means that the Court does not apply the traditional tests of “necessity” or “pressing social need” which are used in the context of Articles 8 to 11 of the Convention. In examining compliance with Article 3 of Protocol No. 1, the Court has focused mainly on two criteria: whether there has been arbitrariness or a lack of proportionality, and whether the restriction has interfered with the free expression of the opinion of the people. In this connection, the wide margin of appreciation enjoyed by the Contracting States has always been underlined. In addition, the Court has stressed the need to assess any electoral legislation in the light of the political evolution of the country concerned, with the result that features unacceptable in the context of one system may be justified in the context of another (see, inter alia, Mathieu-Mohin and Clerfayt and Podkolzina, both cited above).

(d) The need for individualisation of a legislative measure alleged by an individual to be in breach of the Convention, and the degree of that individualisation where it is required by the Convention, depend on the circumstances of each particular case, namely the nature, type, duration and consequences of the impugned statutory restriction. For a restrictive measure to comply with Article 3 of Protocol No. 1, a lesser degree of individualisation may be sufficient, in contrast to situations concerning an alleged breach of Articles 8 to 11 of the Convention.

(e) As regards the right to stand as a candidate for election, that is, the so-called “passive” aspect of the rights guaranteed by Article 3 of Protocol No. 1, the Court has been even more cautious in its assessment of restrictions in that context than when it has been called upon to examine restrictions on the right to vote, the so-called “active” element of the rights under Article 3 of Protocol No. 1. In Melnychenko (cited above, § 57), the Court observed that stricter requirements may be imposed on eligibility to stand for election to Parliament than is the case for eligibility to vote. In fact, while the test relating to the “active” aspect of Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 has usually included a wider assessment of the proportionality of the statutory provisions disqualifying a person or a certain group of persons from the right to vote, the Court’s test in relation to the “passive” aspect of the above provision has been limited largely to a check on the absence of arbitrariness in the domestic procedures leading to disqualification of an individual from standing as a candidate (see, in particular, paragraphs 106‑08 above).

III. ALLEGED VIOLATION OF ARTICLES 10 AND 11 OF THE CONVENTION

Article 10

“1. Everyone has the right to freedom of expression. This right shall include freedom to hold opinions and to receive and impart information and ideas without interference by public authority and regardless of frontiers. ...

Article 11

“1. Everyone has the right to freedom of peaceful assembly and to freedom of association ...

A. The Chamber’s judgment

B. The parties’ submissions

C. The Court’s assessment

FOR THESE REASONS, THE COURT

Done in English and in French, and delivered at a public hearing in the Human Rights Building, Strasbourg, on 16 March 2006.

Lawrence Early Luzius Wildhaber

Deputy Registrar President

In accordance with Article 45 § 2 of the Convention and Rule 74 § 2 of the Rules of Court, the following separate opinions are annexed to this judgment:

(a) partly dissenting opinion of Judge Wildhaber;

(b) partly dissenting opinion of Judges Spielmann and Jaeger;

(c) dissenting opinion of Judge Rozakis;

(d) dissenting opinion of Judge Zupančič;

(e) joint dissenting opinion of Judges Mijović and Gyulumyan. L.W.

T.L.E.

PARTLY DISSENTING OPINION OF JUDGE WILDHABER

I agree with the majority that this case concerns a complaint by the applicant under Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 about her disqualification from standing for election to the national parliament. If I dissented from the finding that it was not necessary to examine separately the applicant’s complaint under Article 11 of the Convention, it was merely to emphasise that the applicant is not and has not been prevented from joining a party of her choice. Nor do the facts underlying her complaint that she was prevented from standing as a candidate in municipal elections give rise to an interference under Article 11.

PARTLY DISSENTING OPINION OF

JUDGES SPIELMANN AND JAEGER

(Translation)

We consider that the applicant’s disqualification from standing for election to Parliament and to municipal councils as a result of her active participation in the CPL, a ban maintained more than a decade after the events of which that party was accused, ought to have been examined by the Court from the perspective of its compatibility with Article 11 of the Convention.

An examination of the compatibility of that disqualification was required not only with regard to Article 3 of Protocol No. 1, but also with regard to Article 11.

Thus, given that her membership of the CPL and her leading position within that party were among the elements used to justify the disqualification, we consider that the scope of the protection (Schutzbereich) offered by Article 11 has been brought into play.

The Court has noted this fundamental distinction more specifically in paragraph 115 (a) of the judgment, where it states:

“... where an interference with Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 is in issue the Court should not automatically adhere to the same criteria as those applied with regard to the interference permitted by the second paragraphs of Articles 8 to 11 of the Convention, and it should not necessarily base its conclusions under Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 on the principles derived from the application of Articles 8 to 11 of the Convention. Because of the relevance of Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 to the institutional order of the State, this provision is cast in very different terms from Articles 8 to 11 of the Convention. Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 is phrased in collective and general terms, although it has been interpreted by the Court as also implying specific individual rights. The standards to be applied for establishing compliance with Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 must therefore be considered to be less stringent than those applied under Articles 8 to 11 of the Convention.”

DISSENTING OPINION OF JUDGE ROZAKIS

While I concur with a number of the majority’s considerations in this case – including their finding that no separate issue arises in so far as Articles 10 and 11 are concerned – I am unable to agree with some of their conclusions which, in my view, are of central importance in this case, and justify my departure from the majority’s decision to find that there had been no violation of Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 in the circumstances. I would also like, from the outset, to point out that I can in many respects readily follow the thread of thinking of Judge Zupančič as reflected in his own dissent; still, his approach is basically a principled one and I would like to concentrate here primarily on certain considerations of a more, I would say, technical nature than his own broadly theoretical approach.

Let me start by what I consider an indispensable preliminary clarification, which may be justified by the somewhat dubious position of the majority with regard to the nature of the rights under Article 3 of Protocol No. 1. In paragraph 115 of the judgment the Court considers that “Article 3 ... is phrased in collective and general terms, although it has been interpreted by the Court as also implying specific individual rights”. This sentence, although it ultimately does not have a radical impact on the Court’s further pronouncements (the sentence which follows in the same paragraph shows that this finding simply affects the standards to be applied for establishing compliance with Article 3, and does not constitute a complete negation of the Article’s substance as containing an individual right), is an obscure generalisation which contradicts not only the drafting history of the Protocol and the previous case-law of the Court, but also the letter of the present judgment itself, paragraph 102 of which states in less dubious, but still open-ended, terms that “the Court has established that this provision also implies individual rights, including the right to vote and to stand for election”.

I consider that, regardless of whether Article 3 of Protocol No. 1 is “phrased in collective and general terms”, it is clear that this Article does not simply imply an individual right but actually provides for one. The drafters’ aim was to enrich the Convention with a political right not differing from the other individual human rights contained in the original Convention. The Convention lays down, without exception, individual rights whose bearers are indiscriminately entitled to invoke them in their relations vis-à-vis the States Parties and the Convention institutions. Hence, regardless of other possible functions, Article 3 does confer a specific individual right, which does not differ qualitatively from any other right provided for by the Convention. This conclusion is in agreement with the locus classicus of our case-law, the judgment in Mathieu-Mohin and Clerfayt v. Belgium (2 March 1987, §§ 49-50, Series A no. 113), in which the Court stated, inter alia:

“49. Such a restrictive interpretation [that Article 3 does not give rise to an individual right] does not stand up to scrutiny. According to its Preamble, Protocol No. 1 ensures ‘the collective enforcement of certain rights and freedoms other than those already included in Section I of the Convention’; furthermore, Article 5 of the Protocol provides: ‘as between the High Contracting Parties the provisions of Articles 1, 2, 3 and 4 ... shall be regarded as additional Articles to the Convention’, all of whose provisions – including Article 25 – ‘shall apply accordingly’. Moreover, the Preamble to Protocol No. 4 refers, inter alia, to the ‘rights and freedoms’ protected in ‘Articles 1 to 3’ of Protocol No. 1.

Nor do the travaux préparatoires of Protocol No. 1 disclose any intention of excluding the operation of the right of individual petition as regards Article 3, whereas for a long time the idea was canvassed – only to be finally abandoned – of withholding the subject from the Court’s jurisdiction. The travaux préparatoires also frequently refer to ‘political freedom’, ‘political rights’, ‘the political rights and liberties of the individual’, ‘the right to free elections’ and ‘the right of election’.

Coming now to the findings of the majority which are pertinent to the concrete case before us, my main observation concerns the nature of a parliamentarian’s functions in a democratic society. The Court correctly points out, in paragraph 117 of the judgment, that “the criterion of political loyalty which may be applied to public servants is of little, if any relevance, to the circumstances of the instant case, which deals with the very different matter of the eligibility of individuals to stand for Parliament. The criterion of ‘political neutrality’ cannot be applied to members of parliament in the same way as it pertains to other State officials, given that the former cannot be ‘politically neutral’ by definition.”

Indeed, the role of a parliamentarian is totally different from all the other roles played by those involved in public matters, including the members of the executive when they exercise their administrative function. In a representative democracy parliamentarians represent, by definition, the opinions and the positions of their electorate – that is, those who have voted for them. They replace them in expressing opinions and positions within and outside Parliament, and, theoretically, act instead of them in a system which, by definition, is not a direct democracy. It is obvious that in this system of representative democracy not everyone can claim to validly represent others. There are at least two safeguards which secure the direct accountability of parliamentarians in faithfully expressing their electorate’s broad wishes: firstly, the safety valve of the democratic election (candidates are elected on the basis of their personality, ideas and opinions as revealed to the public before the elections), and, secondly, the safety valve of post-electoral scrutiny: if an elected representative does not stand up to the expectations of his or her electorate, he or she will probably lose their confidence, and, in the end, his or her seat in Parliament.

The election of parliamentarians to express their electorate’s expectations lies at the core of a representative democracy, whatever their opinions are, and however displeasing these latter are to other strata of society. In a system of sound democratic governance the criterion of eligibility cannot be determined by whether a politician expresses ideas which seem to be acceptable to the mainstream of the political spectrum, or loyal to the established ideologies of the State and society, but by the real representativeness of his or her ideas vis-à-vis even a very small segment of society. Accordingly, if a politician is prevented from representing part of society’s ideas, it is not only he or she who suffers; it is also the electorate which suffers, it is democracy which suffers.

For these reasons prohibitions on eligibility to stand for election should be very exceptional and very carefully circumscribed. One can, of course, understand that a State may introduce eligibility conditions of a technical nature, such as those referred to in the Convention’s jurisprudence and considered in some cases already examined by the Strasbourg institutions (see paragraphs 103 et seq. of the judgment). One can also understand that in certain very exceptional circumstances, the very protection of the primary value of democracy may call for a prohibition on the exercise of the rights contained in Article 3 of Protocol No. 1. But in such circumstances, the State cannot of course escape the scrutiny of the Convention institutions, which should carefully delineate the limits of the State’s liberty to restrain the passive right of a politician or a political party to be elected.

In this respect, the judgment of this Court in the case of Refah Partisi (the Welfare Party) and Others v. Turkey ([GC], nos. 41340/98, 41342/98, 41343/98 and 41344/98, ECHR 2003-II) is extremely illustrative of the way in which the Strasbourg institution has dealt with the very difficult and delicate matter of the prohibition of a political party from participating in national elections. Indeed, in Refah Partisi we were confronted with a situation in which a political party propagating undemocratic ideas directly threatening the fragile political infrastructure of Turkey had had a strong possibility of seizing power by using the democratic electoral procedures provided by the system. The danger was “real and present”, to use the famous dictum of the United States Supreme Court. And our Court correctly considered that, in such exceptional circumstances, a “State cannot be required to wait, before intervening, until a political party has seized power and begun to take concrete steps to implement a policy incompatible with the standards of the Convention and democracy, even though the danger of that policy for democracy is sufficiently established and imminent” (ibid., § 102).

The question is whether we are confronted in the present case with a situation bearing (even remote) similarities with that in Refah Partisi, which would justify treating the case in the same way. My answer is categorically negative, for the following reasons.

First, the applicant was not allowed to take part in the elections, not because of the imminent threat that she posed to the democratic governance of Latvia at the time when the 1995 Act came into force, but because of her past attitude, and mainly her participation in the 1991 events. Leaving aside the argument of the belated emergence of the 1995 Act, and the gap between the events and its enactment, there was no indication in 1995 that the subversive tendencies of her political milieu which had been present in 1991 were still the same in 1995, or that she herself in 1995 would propagate ideas similar to the ones which had been at the forefront of the 1991 events.

But even if we accept – and this is my second observation – that in the circumstances of Latvia’s transition to democracy and its efforts to be disentangled from its recent past, such a harsh measure could have been justified during the first difficult years of adapting to the new regime and for the sake of democratic consolidation, the restrictions have nevertheless not been abolished to date, and this despite the fact that in the meantime Latvia has become a member State of NATO and, more importantly, of the European Union. We are now eleven years away from the date of the Act prohibiting the applicant from standing for election, fifteen years from the events which led to the belated promulgation of the Act, five years from the Constitutional Court’s decision, and almost two years from the election of the applicant to the European Parliament.

Last, but not least, the situation of a single candidate for a seat in Parliament differs radically from the situation of a whole political party aspiring to become the government of a country. It is undoubtedly clear from the facts of the case that the applicant was not only an isolated candidate representing ideas shared by only part of the pro-Russian electorate, but also that she belonged to an ideological current which was, in any event, a minority strand within the political spectrum of Latvia. In these circumstances, it is difficult to contend that the election of the applicant to the Latvian parliament would have had adverse effects on the democratic stability of the country.

For all these reasons, I consider that the applicant – together with, implicitly, her followers – was unduly deprived of her rights under Article 3 of Protocol No. 1, and that, consequently, there has been a violation of this Article.

DISSENTING OPINION OF JUDGE ZUPANČIČ

I regret that I cannot join the majority opinion in this case. Clearly, the majority decision hinges on accurate assessment of the real threat posed by the applicant’s political activities at the material time. Yet these activities, even at the time critical for Latvian independence, were not subversive or even secretive. If at any time Mrs Ždanoka truly represented a danger[1] to the emerging Latvian sovereignty, this was a corollary of her real prospects of being elected.

Consequently, the issue in this as in all similar cases concerns the relationship between democracy and the rule of law.

However, from a historical viewpoint, when the Latvian constitutional order was still in statu nascendi, one could not have simply said – not even in terms of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact and international law! – that Mrs Ždanoka’s and others’ concurrent political activities opposing Latvian independence, the disintegration of the Soviet Union and so on were per se politically illegitimate or even illegal. Even international law does not have the power to wipe away a historical period of some fifty years. Consequently, if the applicant’s activity were to be a priori declared illegitimate or illegal, much of what had been happening in the Soviet Union ought to have been a posteriori declared illegitimate or illegal. Ex factis ius oritur; history may have the power to make that judgment, but not the law. The law’s attention span is limited by the established State power. History, on the other hand, is written by the victor; Mrs Ždanoka found herself on the wrong side of that history.

The majority’s opinion thus derives from a rather narrow time perspective. Since timing is at the heart of this decision, I beg to differ.

Ždanoka v. Latvia is a case in which the historical and ideological significance of transition from Soviet communism as a failed socio-political experiment back to capitalism, democracy and the rule of law is inescapably the central issue. I say “inescapably”, because the case concerns the political rights of the sizeable Russian-speaking minority.

To the Latvians the continuation of communist rule was synonymous with the continuation of Russian occupation. To the Russian-speaking minority, representing some 30%[2] of the population, the imminent self-determination of Latvians foreshadowed the certain loss of privileged status and a possibility of discrimination. To the Latvian majority, as was made clear in the case of Slivenko v. Latvia ([GC], no. 48321/99, ECHR 2003-X), the granting of particular human rights to the large Russian-speaking minority, a consequence of the fifty years of Russian occupation, was and is absurd[3]. It smacks of the inverse logic of Article 17 of the Convention[4]. Suddenly, the former occupiers whose very existence on Latvian territory had originated in illegal occupation, claimed to be victims of human rights violations. Had the very rule of law and democracy for which the Latvians had fought and which for decades had been denied them by the communist rulers of the Soviet Union now become the weapon to be turned against the Latvians themselves? The historical paradox they faced is an existentially absurd one, reflecting an internal clivage to which there can be no immediate solution.

Nevertheless, the travesty of former oppressors subsequently appealing to and profiting from democracy and the rule of law is not specific to Latvia or even only to all three Baltic countries. Specific cases reaching this Court make this evident[5]. In central and eastern Europe we now find many aging individuals who have blood on their hands. Some of them have become vociferous proponents of human rights. If anybody should propose retribution towards, for example, all those who in the not so distant past avidly collaborated with the secret police, they raise their voices with the accustomed arrogance derived from their past and established authoritarian position. They barefacedly claim the very human rights which they spent their life denying to others, nay, often cold-bloodedly violating them in the most brutal fashion.

This Court must take a clear position on this matter.

The logic underlying Article 17 is clear. The legal weapon of claiming human rights must not be perverted. It must not be used to serve those who would in turn violate human rights themselves. The genius of Karl Popper formulated this clearly. He maintained that democracy is for everybody except for those who would destroy it. We are to be tolerant of everything except acts of intolerance.

Two questions derive from this general principle. Firstly, are those who were intolerant in the past subsequently entitled to tolerance? This is a question of Biblical proportions. Should the talionic[6] tooth-for-tooth retributive logic of the Old Testament apply, or should human rights be universal not just in space but also in time? In turn, does this mean turning the other cheek to those who slapped us?

Secondly, what kind of (simultaneous) intolerance should be directed at those who are themselves intolerant? Does the Constitutional Court of Austria, for example, have the right and indeed the duty to proscribe the activities of Mr Haider’s proto-Nazi party that feeds on “Urangst” and ethnic intolerance against Slovenians in Carinthia? How clear and present should be the danger established by the famous Brandenburg v. Ohio test recently adopted by Turkish domestic legislation?[7]

These used to be “political questions”. Thanks to the colossal progress of constitutional law in the second half of the twentieth century it is now clear that they go to the essence of the rule of law.

In international law, the Nuremberg trial is a historic representation of how the rule of law responds to barbarity, of how the power of legal logic ex post facto prevails over the Hobbesian logic of power. In Streletz, Kessler and Krenz (cited above) it became clear, on narrower grounds, that the systemic practice of impunity, despite the purely formal existence of precise punitive norms to the contrary, cannot afterwards be grounds for the affirmative defence based on an excusable mistake of law. Once the rule of law is re-established, the positive norm, even if previously dormant, will apply. Ever since 1764 when Cesare Beccaria wrote his decisive “Dei delitti e delle pene” the retrospective validity of the punitive rule of law has been an integral part of the principle of legality. Later it was reformulated by Anselm Feuerbach into the famous formula “nullum crimen, nulla poena sine lege praevia”. The doctrine is now reiterated in the first paragraph of Article 7 of the European Convention on Human Rights[8]. Thus, the temporal scope of the rule of law – at least in its negative, punitive aspect – is subject to strict restraints. Streletz, Kessler and Krenz, however, also proves that this doctrine cannot be reduced, as it mostly is in our own case-law, to the simple notion of advance notice. It proves that the punitive norm, even if dormant and subject to selective but systemic denial, that is, the generalised practice of impunity, and thus liable to make the actors reasonably assume it will not be applied, is, years afterwards, still in positive existence. At least in so far as the circles of law and morality overlap, in other words, the selective non-application of a penal norm (the systemic practice of selective impunity) is no bar to subsequent prosecution. I maintain here what I said in my concurring opinion in Streletz, Kessler and Krenz – that it is not a case of the retroactive application of criminal law but of an inexcusable mistake of law.

In the present case, however, we do have to deal with the positive element of retrospectivity. Here we are concerned with positive rights (the right to be elected) and not with negative-punitive norms. Restrictions as to the temporal scope of the application of the norm, such as derive from the principle of legality, do not apply. For example, the extensive interpretation of the presumption of innocence precludes discrimination against former collaborators (lustration) unless, of course, their criminal liability has been finally established. It is relevant that Mrs Ždanoka has never been convicted of anything.

Furthermore, people cannot be prevented from actively participating in the democratic process simply because they are likely to be elected. The alleged political subversiveness of Mrs Ždanoka does not derive from any illegal activity on her part established by a Latvian criminal court. Moreover, she would be politically irrelevant were it not for the real odds, past, present or future, that she would be elected. By whom? By members of the Russian-speaking minority?[9] When she was permitted to stand (successfully) for election to the European Parliament this was tolerated because her political impact in the European Parliament is diluted and does not threaten the autonomist rule in Latvia. The fact, incidentally, that she was elected proves the real odds mentioned above.

In other words, I do not believe for a moment that the Latvian authorities would have prevented Mrs Ždanoka from standing in national elections in Latvia were it only for her communist past. Neither is the true reason her present unwillingness to recant and repudiate her communist views. The domestic Latvian point of view concerns no more (and no less) than Mrs Ždanoka’s future political dangerousness. This has to do with the demographic fact that thirty per cent of the existing Latvian population speaks Russian. Presumably, this puts in jeopardy the pro-autonomy rule of the autochthonous majority in whose name the separation of Latvia (and the other two Baltic States) from the Soviet Union was carried out in the first place.

Now that we have reached the stage where we can, without legalistic smokescreens, call a spade a spade, we can finally address the real question. The large Russian-speaking minority in Latvia is a demographic by-product of the long-term illegal occupation by the Soviet Union. Does the historical fact that the occupation was illegal – and it is probably not an accident that the majority opinion emphasises the early illegality of the Molotov-Ribbentrop pact – imply that the residence of the Russian-speaking population in Latvia is itself illegal?[10]

In different terms the same issue arose in Slivenko (cited above). The critical distinction when an individual’s human right is at stake is precisely between an individual’s personal situation on the one hand, and the larger historical and collective situation of the group to which he or she happens to belong on the other[11]. In principle, human rights are strictly individual rights. Historical and collective aspects of the situation are beyond the scope of our jurisdiction.

Yet the majority opinion, like the domestic decisions concerning Mrs Ždanoka, rightly treats her situation as representative not merely of her private predicament. Obviously, the right to stand for election – for this reason considered in a separate Protocol – affects the individual (Mrs Ždanoka) and the collectivity (the Russian-speaking minority) he or she has the ambition to represent politically. The majority opinion, however, implicitly amalgamates the two aspects. The consequence of this mingling of issues is explicit endorsement of the denial of the right to stand for election. The reason for this denial was that Mrs Ždanoka had a real chance of being elected[12]. So much for democracy.

Admittedly, this result is a consequence of the narrow scope of our jurisdiction. Yet, are we here to correct the historical wrongs? Are we to say that 30% of the Latvian population is there illegally? Even if these people were regarded as aliens, their collective expulsion would be explicitly forbidden by Article 4 of Protocol No. 4[13]. The prohibition of the collective expulsion of aliens indicates a clear legal answer to this question, if indeed there is a need for one. This answer is tolerance in the passage of time.

The dilemma is not specific to the Baltic States. In fact the whole of European history, not to speak of its horrific colonial cruelties, is replete with the recurrent “movement of nations” – usually by means of wars and violent takeovers. Needless to say, in terms of international law – in so far as its criteria applied at all – most of these takeovers were utterly “illegal”. It is for the historians to assess the end results of this mixing of populations, determining who in any particular case were the victors and who the vanquished.

The issue, however, has always been the preservation of national identity versus assimilation. In terms of international law, Woodrow Wilson’s formula concerning “self-determination of nations” implies, as he had been warned by his advisers at the time, a wide-ranging particularisation and ethnic intolerance[14].

Parallel to this process of particularisation, however, we have today an intense global process of universalisation. It goes under the name of “globalisation”. Some legal theorists, among them Roberto Mangabeira Unger of Harvard, even maintain that the current intense reversion to “the preservation of national identity”, or the pandemonium of nationalism, is a regressive and over-compensatory reaction not to interstate conquests but to the process of globalisation. This is happening through commercial ties and through the means of global communications that insistently and gradually obliterate residual value hierarchies, ethnic attributes, and distinctive cultural productivity. In international-law circles there is talk of legal and cultural imperialism[15].

The two processes (of particularisation and universalisation) run in parallel and dialectically condition one another. The process of particularisation implies, as if the breakdown into a number of pocket States in Europe were not enough, regression to ever smaller units of ethnic defensiveness.

Parallel to this, the inevitable universalisation (economically: “globalisation”) makes these defensive postures both more and more irrelevant but also more aggressive. As usual, this aggression is then displaced to the target that is closest and most at hand. In Nachova and Others v. Bulgaria[16] it was the Roma people, in Blečić v. Croatia[17] it was Serbians, in Serbia it was Albanians, in Germany and France it may be immigrant workers and their children, and so on. In many of these realms we detect the unhealthy trend from patriotism on the one hand to nationalism, chauvinism and racism on the other.

This intolerance is the European scourge. Because European history is replete with instances of aggression deriving from regressive nationalism, the European Court of Human Rights must take an unambiguous and unshakable moral stand on this predicament. Inter-ethnic tolerance is a categorical imperative of modernity. From intolerance derive too many violations of human dignity and human rights.

Protocol No.12 will bring discrimination as such into play. There can be absolutely no doubt that discrimination on the basis of the suspect class of national origin is par excellence an issue of constitutional and human rights. In my opinion the future of the European Union, too, depends on such moral leadership and on the ability of united Europe to rise above the petty nationalistic prejudices that have hitherto been the cause of so many wars and of so much human suffering.

Here, above all, the Court will be tested as to its wished-for historical role.

JOINT DISSENTING OPINION OF JUDGES MIJOVIĆ

AND GYULUMYAN

In the present case, which concerns the right to free elections, the majority of the judges have found no violation of Article 3 of Protocol No. 1. Having gone through the facts of this case, we, to our regret, were unable to follow the majority of the judges for the following reasons.

In the present case a Latvian politician was disqualified from standing for election on account of her former membership of the Communist Party of Latvia (CPL), which during the Soviet period was a regional branch of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union.

In March 1990, as a member of that political party, Tatjana Ždanoka went on to become a member of the Supreme Council of the Soviet Socialist Republic of Latvia. After the restoration of Latvia’s independence, on 23 August 1991 the CPL was declared unconstitutional, with a stipulation that persons who had participated in the activities of the CPL after 13 January 1991 would be ineligible to stand for political office.

By a decision of the Central Electoral Commission, the applicant was ruled ineligible to stand as a candidate in the parliamentary elections. Her exclusion was based on her former membership of the Communist Party of Latvia.

She complained that her right to stand for election had been infringed as a result of her disqualification.

Although we are aware that this case concerns very sensitive circumstances, we consider that it was not the Court’s task to take sides in the historical and political controversies, but rather to examine the legality of the applicant’s ineligibility in the context of punitive measures – in other words, to assess whether the lack of a fixed duration for the applicant’s ineligibility was appropriate in view of the (temporary) nature of punitive measures.

The Court reiterated that States Parties to the Convention had a wide margin of appreciation in their internal legal orders in subjecting the right to vote and to stand for election to prescribed conditions, and that is something we completely agree with.

We have no difficulty in accepting the legitimacy of a punitive measure, since we cannot exclude the possibility that the restriction in issue could have been justified and proportionate during the first few years after the restoration of Latvia’s independence. It is commonly accepted that certain restrictions may be necessary in newly established and vulnerable democratic regimes (just as the requirement of proportionality is), and this approach has been developed by the Court in addressing a number of clearly defined questions. Additionally, it has been established that the law of each and every State Party to the Convention should be sufficiently clear to allow individuals to foresee such restrictions and to be aware of the way in which their rights will be limited (see Khan v. the United Kingdom, no. 35394/97, ECHR 2000-V).

On the other hand, we strongly believe that such restrictive measures should be temporary in order to be proportionate. In this case the restriction imposed on the applicant seems permanent in that it is of indefinite duration and will continue until legislation putting an end to it is adopted. More than ten years after its initial concerns, we cannot accept that the Latvian parliament still believes that former CPL members are a threat to democracy. And if this is so, if former members of the CPL were and still are a real threat and danger to democracy, why has the parliament failed to enact legislation providing for their permanent ineligibility?

We consider that the Latvian parliament should have decided to impose a time-limit on these restrictions since such limitations on the right to free elections, as we have already mentioned, should exist only for a specific period, a period of vulnerability for a newly established regime. On that basis, we believe that the ineligibility procedure introduced as a result of the Constitutional Court’s interpretation was not sufficient, since it did not allow the courts to assess whether a person represented a real threat and danger to democracy. On the other hand, the very same Constitutional Court in its judgment of 30 August 2000 urged the legislature to periodically re-examine the need to maintain the disputed measure.

Furthermore, the applicant had never been convicted of a criminal offence, she was not one of the fifteen members of parliament who were removed from their seats and there was no evidence that she herself had committed any acts aimed at undermining the new regime.

Having regard to all the above, we strongly believe that the permanent restrictions on standing for election to the Latvian parliament imposed on the applicant on account of her former membership of the Communist Party of Latvia violated her right to free elections.

mi_m2751/is_n32/ai_14182726/print).

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