The Letter and Its Fatal Folly

The letter in question is a joint declaration by nine EU member states – Denmark, Germany, the Netherlands, Sweden, Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, and the Czech Republic – expressing concern about the European Court of Human Rights' (ECtHR) handling of “interim measures,” particularly in the context of migration and asylum cases. They contend that the Court’s use of these measures has “expanded” in a way that intrudes on national sovereignty and undermines democratic decision-making.

What strikes the reader immediately – indeed, what should strike any clear-eyed observer – is the hubristic temerity of nine democracies, ostensibly defenders of the very rule of law they now chide. In their eagerness to curtail the ECtHR’s reach, they reveal not a principled commitment to constitutional democracy but a nervous fealty to the most uncharitable instincts of populist governments.

A Blunder of High Order

To be sure, interim measures – the Court’s emergency tool to prevent “irreparable harm” before a final ruling – are a powerful instrument. But so is a surgeon’s scalpel, and few would suggest that a scalpel be confiscated because it may occasionally nick the skin. These measures are rare, temporary, and – crucially – subject to scrutiny. In fact, they are the Court’s answer to precisely the kind of catastrophic state error that these nine countries claim to abhor in theory.

What these governments miss – or perhaps willfully ignore – is that the ECtHR exists not to rubber-stamp national sovereignty but to stand as a bulwark when that sovereignty devolves into tyranny or negligence. In other words, to ensure that Europe never again slides into the abyss from which it once emerged bloodied and battered.

The Disservice to Citizens

For the citizens of these nine states, the letter is a betrayal. It signals to the world that their governments prefer procedural expedience over substantive justice – that they see the rule of law as a nuisance when it slows their political ends. The letter’s icy phrasing, heavy with the self-assurance of technocrats, masks a deeply anti-democratic impulse: the idea that the law should only apply when convenient.

It is not the ECtHR’s interim measures that offend the democratic order – it is this letter’s demand to gut them. If states are permitted to decide when and how they comply with international law, then international law ceases to exist. What remains is not democracy, but a cynical masquerade of it.

Playing into the Hands of the Kremlin

Most damning of all, this letter is a gift to the most malign actor in Europe today: Vladimir Putin. By publicly questioning the authority of the ECtHR, these governments lend credence to the Russian narrative that international law is a political cudgel wielded by the West. The Kremlin has long argued that “Western” human rights are a form of neo-colonialism. Here, these nine governments unwittingly echo that sentiment, playing directly into the hands of those who would see the entire European human rights architecture reduced to rubble.

A Sharp Rebuke

One must ask: is the ECtHR perfect? Of course not. No institution is, and the Court itself is no stranger to criticism. But to dismantle one of its core protective functions in the name of “efficiency” is akin to amputating a leg to cure a blister.

The letter’s signatories have misjudged the moment. In an era of rising authoritarianism, the Court’s independence is not an obstacle to democracy – it is democracy’s last redoubt. By weakening the ECtHR, these governments weaken themselves, their citizens, and the fragile democratic consensus that has kept Europe from devouring itself again.

One can only hope that wiser heads prevail. For if they do not, and the ECtHR’s authority is allowed to wither under such cowardly attacks, then the consequences will be felt not only in Strasbourg, but in every country that once believed “never again” was more than a slogan.