Introduction
The European Court of Human Right’s decision in the Otegi case dropped like a bomb in the midst of the Catalan secession crisis.Footnote 1 That crisis, which began in 2006, represents the most serious threat to the Spanish constitutional order since the end of Franco’s dictatorship.Footnote 2 The challenge involves a combination of political action from the streets –crowds of demonstrators, labour strikes, and two unconstitutional ‘participatory processes’ or ‘referendums’ asserting Catalonia’s independence from SpainFootnote 3 – and institutional action by the Catalan regional government, which has encouraged the movement and enacted legislation aimed at breaching constitutional legality.Footnote 4 The economic crisis that unfolded parallel to the political impasse has compounded the drama of these difficult years for the Spanish constitutional order.Footnote 5
The constitutional response to this turmoil has predominantly been judicial. Although central government intervention aimed at limiting the autonomy of Catalan institutions has been decisive in managing the crisis,Footnote 6 the central government has mainly relied on the Constitutional Court and regular courts to check the secessionist challenge.Footnote 7 The Constitutional Court will even have the final word concerning the application of Article 155 of the Spanish Constitution; there are two pending constitutional challenges before it that explore the provision’s reach.Footnote 8 In one way or another, the judiciary has played or will play the main role in protecting the constitutional order. The prominence of the courts is recognised not only by the central government, which initially activated the judicial mechanisms but also by secessionist leaders who have implicitly accepted it by strategically playing the judicial game, using all available tools to defend their position, especially in criminal proceedings.
The Otegi case gains in importance in this context, even though it is related to a different secession narrative. If the integrity of the constitutional order relies on the Spanish judiciary, the integrity of the judiciary itself is a crucial principle that must be preserved. A lack of trust in the Spanish judiciary would inevitably lead to an undermining of the legitimacy of the constitutional order and the anti-secession measures imposed by the courts. Impartiality as an element of the constitutional right to fair trial becomes the precise premise upon which the entire edifice of judicial protection of the constitutional order against secessionist challenges is built. Moreover, the ultimate acceptance of and compliance with judicial decisions taken in the context of the Catalan secession crisis will depend, even in case of disagreement, on the credibility – to which impartiality is key – of the Spanish judiciary. In other words, the acceptance of the constitutional order will ultimately be gauged through the perception of impartiality underlying the actions of the judiciary.
The analysis in this case note begins with an overview summarising the ruling in the Otegi case. It then explores two recent disturbing trends that cast a shadow over the integrity of the judicial process, one in which Otegi plays a role and another involving certain questionable freedom of expression decisions which jeopardise the perception of impartiality underlying the judicial response to the Catalan secession crisis. The article closes with an argument reiterating the need to preserve the credibility of the judiciary at all cost in times of crisis.
The Otegi case
On 16 September 2011, the Audiencia Nacional sentenced Arnaldo Otegi Mondragón and Rafael Diez Usabiaga to ten years’ imprisonment for being members and the leaders of a terrorist organisation (Euskadi Ta Askatasuna, ‘ETA’). Another three applicants to the European Court of Human Rights were sentenced to eight years’ imprisonment for being members of ETA. In addition, all the applicants were banned from taking part in elections for the duration of their respective prison sentences. On 7 May 2012, the Supreme Court, on appeal, reduced the sentences to six years and six months for Arnaldo Otegi Mondragón and Rafael Diez Usabiaga and to six years for the other three applicants. The disqualification from taking part in elections was confirmed and, therefore, not reduced. Finally, several individual constitutional appeals (recursos de amparo) were lodged by the applicants, all of which were rejected.
Prior to this set of convictions, on 2 March 2010, Arnaldo Otegi Mondragón had been sentenced to two years’ imprisonment for the encouragement of terrorism (enaltecimiento del terrorismo) by the Fourth Section of the Audiencia Nacional. During the oral hearings, the President of the Fourth Section of the Audiencia Nacional asked the applicant whether he was prepared to condemn ETA. The applicant chose to remain silent and the judge replied that she ‘already knew that he was not going to give an answer to that question’. The applicant felt that this statement was a breach of the sentencing judge’s impartiality; it was on this basis that he lodged his cassation appeal. On 2 February 2011, the Supreme Court ruled in favour of the applicant, finding that the sentencing judge had been biased. Subsequently, on 22 July 2011, the Fourth Section of the Audiencia Nacional, after a recent reconfiguration, acquitted Otegi Mondragón.
The 16 September 2011 decision of the Audiencia Nacional was delivered by the same panel of judges that had convicted Arnaldo Otegi Mondragón on 2 March 2010, leading Otegi Mondragón to question the partiality of the judicial panel based on its past judicial conduct and the 2 February 2011 finding of partiality by the Supreme Court. On 7 May 2012, the Supreme Court – in a 3 to 2 decision – however, refused the applicants’ appeal claiming a violation of the right to a fair trial, ruling that the panel’s past conduct was not egregious enough to support a charge of lack of impartiality. The Constitutional Court also rejected, by split decision, the various individual constitutional appeals filed by the applicants. Neither court observed a breach of impartiality because the factual differences between the two cases were too great: the first case dealt with the encouragement of terrorism while the more recent one was related to membership in or leadership of a terrorist organisation.
The European Court of Human Rights addressed the case with its traditional approach to impartiality as laid out in Article 6.1 of the Convention.Footnote 9 Accordingly, impartiality was understood to mean the absence of prejudice or bias and could be tested either subjectively or objectively. From a subjective perspective, a judge should never allow personal prejudice or bias to influence the outcome in a given case.Footnote 10 From an objective perspective, the Court should focus on ensuring that no legitimate doubt exists – from the perspective of an external observer – about the judge’s impartiality.Footnote 11 The latter (objective) test is concerned with appearances conveyed in the context of a trial whereas the former (subjective) test scrutinises, for evidence of partiality, the behaviour of the judge in question. In other words, the objective test is focussed on the overall context and facts of the trial whereas the subjective test scrutinises the conduct of the judge. However, as the Court has frequently stressed, there is no watertight barrier between the two tests: both perspectives might be compromised in the same case.Footnote 12 In any event, as the Court also notes, in most cases, the Strasbourg’s scrutiny focuses on the objective test.Footnote 13
The Court examined the case by means of the objective impartiality test, thus disregarding the claims of personal bias on the part of the sentencing judges.Footnote 14 Through the lens of the objective test, the Court found that the right to a fair trial had been violated since it considered the applicants’ concerns about the impartiality of the sentencing court to be objectively justified. The same panel of judges had previously tried Arnaldo Otegi Mondragón, and the Supreme Court declared the decision in that trial to be in breach of the principle of impartiality. Although the subsequent trial examined the applicants’ convictions on different criminal charges, the key for the European court was the fact that both trials shared an identical context, that is, ETA and terrorism.Footnote 15 In the previous case, the sentencing judge had demonstrated prejudice, later confirmed by the Spanish Supreme Court, in attributing to the applicant affinity with the terrorist organisation ETA. The subsequent trial, heard by the same sentencing judge, also principally involved ETA and terrorism and, therefore, the common thread running through both cases raised legitimate doubts, at least to an external observer, about the impartiality of the sentencing court.
The Court also addressed three additional factors.Footnote 16 First, while it is true that the lack of impartiality in the previous trial applied only to Arnaldo Otegi Mondragón, the four other applicants were also subsequently tried for the same charges as Otegi and, therefore, the ETA terrorism context also applied in their cases, thus objectively justifying those applicants’ fear of partiality. Second, doubts about the impartiality of a sole judge – based on her declarations during the previous trial – also cast doubt on the impartiality of the two remaining judges on the Audiencia Nacional panel. Here, the Court agreed with the Supreme Court’s criteria in the previous trial: retrial by a recomposed judicial panel had been required. Third and lastly, the fact that the judge whose behaviour had led to the partiality declaration that overturned the first trial did not act as judge rapporteur at the subsequent trial did little to assuage doubts about partiality. For the Court, it was impossible to ascertain the actual level of influence this judge had had on the decision taken by the Audiencia Nacional panel and, therefore, doubts about impartiality remained intact at the subsequent trial.
Against this backdrop, the European Court of Human Rights declared, unanimously, that the applicants’ right to a fair trial under Article 6.1 of the Convention had been violated because of a lack of impartiality on the part of the sentencing court. The Court decided, by six votes to one, that the mere declaration of the violation constituted sufficient just satisfaction and dismissed, also by six votes to one, the applicants’ demand for just satisfaction.Footnote 17 The Court recalled that, in cases of violation of Article 6.1 of the Convention, the most appropriate form of redress is, in principle, a retrial or a reopening of the case at the request of the interested party, directly referring to that possibility in accordance with Spanish legislation.Footnote 18 The applicants could thus have requested that such a line of action be opened at the domestic level.Footnote 19
Judicial crisis: a two-front battle with the Catalan secessionist threat
The first front: the integrity of the judicial process
As regards respect for judicial impartiality, the Otegi case should be contextualised as part of the Spanish judiciary’s quite decent track record as a subject of scrutiny by the European Court of Human Rights. Indeed, since Spain’s ratification of the Convention in 1979, the country has been condemned nine times – including Otegi – for breaches of judicial impartiality. Two of those cases concerned the impartiality of military courts,Footnote 20 two others involved Audiencias Provinciales (Provincial Courts),Footnote 21 two the Audiencia Nacional,Footnote 22 one the Tribunal Superior de Justicia de Comunidad Autónoma (Regional High Court)Footnote 23 and, finally, only a single case decided by the Supreme Court.Footnote 24 The Constitutional Court has never been scrutinised for a breach of impartiality. The data could possibly be construed as misleading or, even more likely, incomplete since not all cases that suffer from a potential breach of impartiality make it to the European Court. Although raw data might not perhaps reveal the entire truth, it can nonetheless back up the affirmation that, in the eyes of Strasbourg and on the basis of the cases that have reached it, judicial impartiality has not really been a structural problem for Spain.
The Otegi case has cast a shadow over this good track record and moreover at the worst possible moment, in the midst of the Catalan secession crisis. In response to actions of the Spanish judiciary, secessionist leaders point to the European Court’s judgment to cast doubt over the entire judicial system, especially the ongoing criminal cases against some of the leaders.Footnote 25 A decisive legal defence invoked by most of those accused of crimes is the allegation of bias on the part of the Spanish judiciary – i.e. particular hostility towards aspirations for independence and the leaders who profess it – both at the preliminary investigatory phase and subsequently at trial.Footnote 26 During the pre-trial phase, Judges Carmen Lamela Díaz and Pablo Llarena Conde were accused of partiality; in addition to several disqualification petitions being lodged against both judges by the legal defence teams, Llarena Conde was even sued for bias before a court in Belgium.Footnote 27 In the trial phase, the President of the Supreme Court panel hearing the case was also accused of partiality.Footnote 28 Despite the fact that the raw data does not indicate generalised bias within the Spanish judiciary, the secessionist movement is building its case and Otegi has been a central pillar of that endeavour.
A similar line of action has arisen regarding the independence of the Spanish judiciary. The Spanish judiciary has often been accused of a lack of independence, that is, of letting itself be unduly influenced, in breach of the separation of powers principle, by the Spanish government against the Catalan secessionist movement.Footnote 29 Once again, past litigation at the European Court of Human Rights fails to support any conjecture that this might be a structural feature; Spain has since 1979 not once been found to be in violation due to a lack of judicial independence – nor for political interference with jurisdictional matters. Nonetheless, the chronic politicisation of the Consejo General del Poder Judicial (General Council of the Judiciary) and the negative consequences of the political capture of its prerogative to make highest-level appointments to the Spanish judiciary have been taken up with alacrity by the secessionist movement to delegitimise the judicial process against it.Footnote 30 In the context of fighting corruption, the Group of States Against Corruption (GRECO) has pointed out the need to evaluate the legislative framework of the General Council of the Judiciary and its effect on real and perceived independence.Footnote 31 The latest Eurobarometer poll results have similarly been used to argue that the Spanish judiciary lacks independence. The most recent data show that 55% of the participants in the Eurobarometer survey perceived the independence of the Spanish judiciary to be ‘fairly bad’ or ‘very bad’.Footnote 32 Alongside the accusations of partiality, the other main argument used by the secessionists to attack the integrity of the Spanish judiciary is its alleged lack of independence.
Lastly, two European Court of Human Rights cases decided in 2018 have added even more significance to the state of integrity of the Spanish judicial process, again in relation to ETA and terrorism. In the Arrózpide case, involving the review of criminal convictions for three members of ETA, the European Court upheld Spain in the claims raised under Articles 7 and 5.1 of the European Convention but declared that Article 6.1 had been violated because individual constitutional complaints (recursos de amparo) filed before the Spanish Constitutional Court had been incorrectly dismissed.Footnote 33 In that decision, the management of the admissibility phase of recursos de amparo by the Constitutional Court was found to have been unduly compromised.Footnote 34 However, the Portu Juanenea case is even more relevant, with Spain condemned for the ill-treatment of two ETA convicts.Footnote 35 The decision of the Court declared that Article 3 of the Convention had been violated both on substantive and procedural grounds, meaning that the ill-treatment had indeed occurred and that the Spanish judiciary had failed to fully investigate the claim.Footnote 36 These cases which, like Otegi, involve ETA and terrorism, are highly pertinent to the Catalan secessionist movement; they contribute to the perception of a crack in the veneer of the integrity of the Spanish judicial system.
The second front: freedom of expression, hate speech/hate crimes
The Catalan secessionist movement has always conceived of independence as a political idea that enjoys the protection of the right to free speech.Footnote 37 Couched in those terms, the claim seems incontestable. Although opponents of the independence movement, as well as the judicial response to it, have claimed that the basis for prosecution and conviction involved actions – behaviours, facts and instruments – and not ideas, the secessionists have insisted that they are victims of political and judicial persecution of their beliefs in breach of their fundamental right of freedom of expression.Footnote 38 Thus, in the secessionist imagination, the Spanish judiciary plays the role of the oppressor of a legitimate goal – independence – an instrument of an opposing political faction, thus making it both biased and lacking in independence, without respect for freedom of expression.
This allegation, of course, must be proven by the Catalan secessionist movement; even then, the European Court of Human Rights could still intervene. However, at this moment it is fair to alert the Spanish judiciary to the image it is projecting. Two cases, in particular, reveal the excessive protection bestowed upon Spanish institutions – namely the monarchy – against legitimate political critics. Arnaldo Otegi Mondragón was condemned in 2005 to one year’s imprisonment for accusing the king of being the head torturer in the Basque Country’s political struggle for independence. In that case, although the Tribunal Superior de Justicia del País Vasco (the Basque Country High Court of Justice) ruled in favour of Otegi and qualified his declarations as legitimate criticism, the Supreme Court overturned the decision and convicted Otegi. The Constitutional Court upheld the Supreme Court decision and rejected the individual constitutional appeal. In 2011, the European Court of Human Rights took up the case, declaring that freedom of expression had been violated and thus condemning Spain.Footnote 39 In a similar vein, in 2008 Enric Stern Taulats and Jaume Roura Capellera were convicted by the Audiencia Nacional and ordered to pay a fine for doing harm to the king. During a demonstration for Catalan independence, the two men had burned a portrait of the king and queen. In 2018, the European Court of Human Rights declared, once again, that the freedom to express legitimate political criticism had been violated.Footnote 40
The most relevant aspect of these two cases is that the Spanish judiciary, and especially the Constitutional Court in Stern Taulats, had qualified the two cases as instances of hate speech/hate crime and applied this categorisation to defend an exception to the freedom of expression.Footnote 41 In both of its judgments in these cases, the European Court of Human Rights rejected the application of that category, leaving no doubt that the declarations and actions of the applicants, although perhaps provocative, could not be qualified as hate speech or a hate crime.Footnote 42 In Stern Taulats, the European Court stated that political criticism, even provocative criticism, could not be included in the hate speech/hate crimes exception which is clearly directed at speech and behaviours that defend or justify hate on racist, xenophobic, anti-Semitic or other discriminatory grounds.Footnote 43 In short, the Spanish courts had erroneously conceptualised the hate speech/hate crimes category and maintained a position incompatible with Article 10 of the Convention. As the Stern Taulats decision was directly connected to a Catalan secessionist demonstration and decided as recently as 2018, it, in particular, damages the reputation of Spanish courts in terms of their respect for freedom of expression.
A case similar to Otegi and Stern Taulats is currently pending in Strasbourg: Tasio Erkizia.Footnote 44 Spanish courts sentenced Tasio Erkizia to one year’s imprisonment for encouraging terrorism (enaltecimiento del terrorismo) during a memorial ceremony for a former head of ETA.Footnote 45 Erkizia had exhorted his listeners to seek ‘the best and optimal way to damage the State and to lead the Basque country to a new democratic scenario’ and the Constitutional Court once again categorised his statements as hate speech/hate crime.Footnote 46 The European Court of Human rights might thus condemn Spain once again for violating the freedom of expression by incorrectly applying the category of hate speech/hate crime.Footnote 47 Another condemnation will weaken the image of the Spanish judiciary even further. In addition, another front is emerging within the realm of freedom of expression and the challenges that Spanish courts are facing in connection with the demonstrations held before the Catalan regional parliament in 2011. The Supreme Court sentenced Olga Alvarez Juan to three years’ imprisonment for crimes against institutions of State, and her case is now on the Strasbourg docket.Footnote 48
It seems, therefore, that the Spanish courts, having chosen to dig in, are toeing a line whose compatibility with Strasbourg case law is dubious. Several other cases at the national level have also been qualified as hate speech or a hate crime. Especially troubling are those included in the so-called Operación Araña, which involves the prosecution, by the Spanish police and courts, of alleged acts that amount to defending terrorism on social media.Footnote 49 Some of those cases have resulted in criminal convictions while others ultimately ended in acquittal or were simply dropped after investigation. In any case, there are well-founded reasons to believe that this behaviour is also incompatible with Strasbourg case law, thus adding more fuel to the fire of Catalan secessionist imagination, especially since not a few of the cases that have been qualified as hate speech/hate crime are directly related to the Catalan struggle. In this regard, although several cases have been launched by the Public Prosecution Office, most were ultimately shut down and dismissed by the courts for a lack of evidence of hate speech or a hate crime.Footnote 50
A change in the position held by the Spanish judiciary is thus urgently needed, especially at the highest level – not only the Constitutional and Supreme Courts, but also the Audiencia Nacional – in terms of its conception of hate speech/hate crime and the scope of freedom of expression. The European Court of Human Rights has already pointed out mistakes in that regard and more convictions could follow. At the same time, the cases analysed here show that there are various alignments within the Spanish judiciary. Some courts, especially lower courts, have shown sensitivity vis-á-vis Strasbourg case law. General allegations implying that the Spanish judiciary consistently disregards freedom of expression might perhaps seem ill-founded but the recent tack taken by the Spanish courts in regard to their categorisation of hate speech/hate crime, especially in light of the declarations of violations by the European Court of Human Rights, could prove especially counterproductive at this moment of constitutional crisis.
Conclusion
Without really understanding how things got to this point, and with some voices even decrying the current situation as wholly undesirable,Footnote 51 Spanish courts find themselves shouldering the brunt of the task of defusing the current constitutional territorial crisis. The response to the Catalan secession crisis, one of the most formidable attacks ever to be launched against the Spanish constitutional edifice erected in 1978, has been predominantly judicial in nature. This has put the Spanish judiciary in the spotlight. Thus, in the end, the credibility of the Spanish constitutional system will hinge on the response of the judiciary. In short, Spain is facing a severe constitutional crisis that affects the core values of its constitutional legitimacy – democracy, rule of law, human rights, separation of powers and territorial distribution of powers – and the judiciary is being called upon to solve it. The judiciary will surely be blamed if it responds poorly and, if that happens, a judicial crisis will only serve to compound the ongoing constitutional crisis. To put it even more curtly, a perfect storm is brewing.
Since its very inception in 1978-79, the Spanish constitutional order has matured under the watchful eyes of the European system and its human rights convention control. The judiciary, including the Constitutional and Supreme courts, is accustomed to being under the permanent supervision of international courts. Not that there haven’t been a few errors and admitted shortfalls along the way, but Spanish courts have compiled a decent track record in terms of compliance that, in the view of the Court in Strasbourg, does not indicate serious structural problems. Its track record should be seen as a hearty endorsement of taking recourse to the Spanish judiciary for addressing the current constitutional crisis. The Spanish judiciary, however, has recently been hounded by two worrisome attitudes. On the one hand, the integrity of the judicial process has been questioned in relation to the separatist struggle in the Basque Country. The Otegi case casts doubt on the impartiality of Spanish courts, a key component of their credibility and legitimacy. On the other hand, a problematic application of the hate speech/hate crimes category by the Spanish courts has raised doubts about their respect for freedom of expression. The Catalan secessionist discourse has taken advantage of both of the Spanish courts’ shortcomings, pouncing to allege structural bias against aspirations of independence and freedom of expression. Allowing the separatists to claim the higher ground in the midst of this severe constitutional crisis would be an inexcusable mistake.
Notwithstanding, there is still time to rectify the line of action. The criminal prosecution of Catalan secessionist leaders is ongoing and any error of impartiality or lack of independence in the pre-trial phase can be corrected during the trial phase.Footnote 52 Impeccable judgment in the trial phase, in full compliance with all the requirements of Article 6 of the Convention, will reinforce the credibility of measures taken by Spanish courts. Moreover, especially in the lower courts, sensitivity to the Strasbourg court’s case law on the proper application of the hate speech/hate crime category has been on the increase. The highest courts should take heed of this appreciation and, especially, of Strasbourg’s convictions in that respect. At the same time, Spain finds itself under the spotlight because of these cases. The courts are thus not only scrutinised by national actors; international eyes are watching as well. Somehow or another, it can be expected that some of the cases will make it to the European Court of Human Rights and that the Spanish judiciary’s actions will then be subjected to Strasbourg’s scrutiny. There are, incidentally, 22 cases related to the Catalan secessionist crisis currently on the Court’s docket.Footnote 53 The Spanish judiciary should take care to maintain its credibility at all cost in this time of crisis; the entire constitutional order depends on it, and keeping its credibility intact will, at the very least, require compliance with the Strasbourg standards for Articles 6 (the right to fair trial) and 10 (freedom of expression).