Editor’s note: Thomas Terraz is a L.LM. candidate in the European Law programme at Utrecht University and a former intern of the Asser International Sports Law Centre

1.     Sport Nationalism is Politics

Despite all efforts, the Olympic Games has been and will be immersed in politics. Attempts to shield the Games from social and political realities are almost sure to miss their mark and potentially risk being disproportionate. Moreover, history has laid bare the shortcomings of the attempts to create a sanitized and impenetrable bubble around the Games. The first blog of this series examined the idea of the Games as a sanitized space and dived into the history of political neutrality within the Olympic Movement to unravel the irony that while the IOC aims to keep the Olympic Games ‘clean’ of any politics within its ‘sacred enclosure’, the IOC and the Games itself are largely enveloped in politics. Politics seep into the cracks of this ‘sanitized’ space through: (1) public protests (and their suppression by authoritarian regimes hosting the Games), (2) athletes who use their public image to take a political stand, (3) the IOC who takes decisions on recognizing national Olympic Committees (NOCs) and awarding the Games to countries,[1] and (4) states that use the Games for geo-political posturing.[2] With this background in mind, the aim now is to illustrate the disparity between the IOC’s stance on political neutrality when it concerns athlete protest versus sport nationalism, which also is a form of politics.

As was mentioned in part one of this series, the very first explicit mention of politics in the Olympic Charter was in its 1946 version and aimed to combat ‘the nationalization of sports for political aims’ by preventing ‘a national exultation of success achieved rather than the realization of the common and harmonious objective which is the essential Olympic law’ (emphasis added). This sentiment was further echoed some years later by Avery Brundage (IOC President (1952-1972)) when he declared: ‘The Games are not, and must not become, a contest between nations, which would be entirely contrary to the spirit of the Olympic Movement and would surely lead to disaster’.[3] Regardless of this vision to prevent sport nationalism engulfing the Games and its codification in the Olympic Charter, the current reality paints quite a different picture. One simply has to look at the mass obsession with medal tables during the Olympic Games and its amplification not only by the media but even by members of the Olympic Movement.[4] This is further exacerbated when the achievements of athletes are used for domestic political gain[5] or when they are used to glorify a nation’s prowess on the global stage or to stir nationalism within a populace[6]. Sport nationalism is politics. Arguably, even the worship of national imagery during the Games from the opening ceremony to the medal ceremonies cannot be depoliticized.[7] In many ways, the IOC has turned a blind eye to the politics rooted in these expressions of sport nationalism and instead has focused its energy to sterilize its Olympic spaces and stifle political expression from athletes. One of the ways the IOC has ignored sport nationalism is through its tacit acceptance of medal tables although they are expressly banned by the Olympic Charter.

At this point, the rules restricting athletes’ political protest and those concerning sport nationalism, particularly in terms of medal tables, will be scrutinized in order to highlight the enforcement gap between the two.

2.     The Legal Framework

a.     Athlete Led Political Protest

The groundwork for political neutrality is set out in the Fundamental Principles of Olympism (point 5) and Rule 2 (5) of the Olympic Charter. As was illuminated in the first blog, this is presented by the Olympic Charter to ensure the autonomy of sport. One of the specific ways in which the Olympic Charter tries to secure this ideal is through Rule 50 which bans political protest at Olympic sites.[8] Last year, the IOC Athletes’ Commission released its Guidelines on Rule 50 which underscored the far-reaching prohibitions Rule 50 entails. Athletes are not allowed to display any sort of ‘political messaging’ or make any ‘gestures of a political nature’. This includes no ‘signs or armbands’, no ‘hand gestures or kneeling’. Even ‘refusal to follow the Ceremonies protocol’ is considered a violation of Rule 50. Rubbing salt in the wound is the fact that the geographic scope of this ban extends to ‘all Olympic venues’, thus even covering the Olympic Village. Athletes may only disperse their political speech during ‘press conferences and interviews’, ‘team meetings’ and through ‘digital or traditional media, or on other platforms’. The Guidelines, however, underline that this exception only applies to ‘expressing views’, making a distinction from ‘protests and demonstrations’, which includes the actions described above. Arguably, drawing such a line may be blurry in practice. In other words, at what point does an athlete’s expression of a view become political protest? This question is particularly relevant given the broad interpretation the Guidelines have taken on what constitutes political protest. In the end, while the Guidelines claim that this is only to ensure that everyone ‘can enjoy the experience of the Olympic Games without any divisive disruption’, such a broad interpretation of Rule 50 arguably goes beyond the attempt to prevent any ‘disruption’ to athletes’ achievements.

The consequences for athletes who do not follow these rules can be very serious. Bye-Law 1 to Rule 50 states that if such ‘propaganda’ appears on an athlete’s clothing or equipment (e.g. an armband or hidden t-shirt), they may be disqualified. The Guidelines, on the other hand, remain rather vague. Instead, each case is to be decided by the athlete’s ‘National Olympic Committee, International Federation and the IOC’ and ‘disciplinary action’ will be decided on an individual basis. Nevertheless, given simply the looming threat of a disqualification, it is likely that the vast majority of athletes will simply fall into line.[9]

b.    Sport Nationalism and Medal Tables

The clearest example of the wilful disregard of the Olympic Movement to combat sport nationalism is its tacit acceptance of Olympic medal tables despite an explicit ban in the Olympic Charter. The foundations of this ban can be found in Rule 6 of the Olympic Charter which stipulates that the ‘Olympic Games are competitions between athletes in individual or team events and not between countries’ (emphasis added). Rule 57 then specifically addresses medal tables, stating that the ‘IOC and the OCOG shall not draw up any global ranking per country’. Finally, Rule 27 (6) highlights how NOCs bear a special responsibility to ‘preserve their autonomy and resist all pressures of any kind, including but not limited to political, legal, religious or economic pressures which may prevent them from complying with the Olympic Charter’. With this framing, while the IOC and OCOG are not allowed to create a medal table, the NOCs have essentially been left off the hook. In practice, NOCs have not hesitated to boast of their performances on medal tables. For instance, the United States Olympic Committee jumped at the opportunity to celebrate how it had topped the medal chart for the ‘6th straight games’ at Rio 2016.[10] In the meantime, political leaders and the media continue to gush over the achievements of their countries through their standing in the medal table.[11] While hosting Olympic athletes at the White House, Obama emphasized how Team USA had ‘won the most medals by far’ at the Rio Games.[12] Additionally, national governments are aware of their standings in medal tables and have used them to shape their sport policies, including funding for elite sport.[13] NOCs play a role here as well. For example, the Dutch NOC*NSF, in its overview of its elite sport strategy and finance, has set its goal to be a top 10 nation in elite sport, which involves ‘striving for more medals’.[14] Indeed, the determination of whether a nation is in the top 10 presupposes the creation of some sort of ‘global ranking per country’. Lastly, concerning the media, the IOC’s editorial guidelines for Olympic properties at Rio 2016 even clearly states that it has ‘no objection’ to medal tables in published material.[15]

The Olympic Charter requires the IOC ‘to oppose any political ... abuse of sport and athletes’.[16] All the above examples are illustrations of using sport and athletes’ achievements for political purposes.[17] Given this picture, it could be argued that the IOC has increasingly taken a rather laid back approach to medal tables and does not seem to mind how other actors – both within and outside the Olympic Movement – use them to stimulate a country versus country narrative around the Olympic Games.[18] In essence, medal tables paint those countries at the top as the winners and those at the bottom as the losers, further elevating nationalist politics: the myth of the nations of the innately strong and those of the weak. The IOC, as the ‘supreme authority’ of the Olympic Movement, could adopt a stronger tone to push back against the omnipresent nature of medal tables within the Games as it stands in complete opposition to its fundamental principles.[19] Indeed, part of the IOC’s mission is to ‘to take action to strengthen the unity of the Olympic Movement, to protect its independence, to maintain and promote its political neutrality and to preserve the autonomy of sport’ (emphasis added).[20] But there is no unity in the Olympic Movement concerning medal tables, only disarray, ranging from tacit acceptance to zealous celebrations of a nation’s ranking.

3.     Unveiling the Hypocrisy

In view of this, there seems to be a disparity in the Olympic Movement’s approach to politics when it comes from athletes, where there is the potential for severe sanctions, compared to sport nationalism arising from medal tables, where it seems to have all but accepted their existence. Looking beyond simply medal tables, so much of the Olympic Games emphasizes a competition between countries, further stimulating sport nationalism: (1) an opening ceremony where athletes march into an arena behind their nation’s flag and where the host puts on ‘cultural performances’ that ‘dramatize national myths, experiences, and values’[21]; (2) national anthems that are religiously played during each medal ceremony while national flags are hoisted up; (3) the way in which many team sports are played between countries. More credence is given to this view when one also observes how the media – and sometimes even NOCs -  help push a country versus country narrative, which can potentially overshadow athletes’ individual accomplishments.^[22] The constant flood of national imagery during the Games casts doubt on the idea that the Olympic Games is not a competition between countries, creating greater friction between the ideas of ‘universalism and nationalism’.[23] It should also be recalled, as was pointed out in the first blog, that states use sport nationalism to help push foreign and internal political agendas.  Some have argued that in this way sport can be ‘regarded as compensation, a sense of nostalgia or as a cure against the erosion of national identity’, even becoming ‘an alternative to war’.[24] Others have taken another view that instead of acting as a sort of pressure release, the Games ‘may provide opportunities for extending and exacerbating nationalist-inspired conflicts’, further entrenching nationalism.[25]

However, this blog is not arguing that the IOC should take heavy handed action to discourage the media from tallying up medals or to reel in a NOC’s pride in the performance of its athletes or to rid the Olympic Games of all signs of national imagery. On the contrary, it seems that the idea to minimize sport nationalism through the inclusion of Rule 6 and 57 of the Olympic Charter should be characterized as an expression of a lofty ideal that personifies international unity – i.e. something to be aspired to but not some concrete goal to be realized through rigorous enforcement. Again, it is completely legitimate for the Olympic Movement to strive for this ideal and to also defend its political neutrality. Yet, given how the IOC has all but accepted this form of politics (sport nationalism), it is puzzling why it has not taken a more tolerant approach to political expression from athletes, including protests/demonstrations, especially when considering how medal tables arguably pose a far greater threat to the fundamental principles of the Olympic Movement.[26] Perhaps given how sports can help stir national pride within a populace, it is possible that this phenomenon may encourage more viewership hours. Consequently, presenting the Games as a country versus country competition may be more lucrative. On the other hand, potentially unpredictable athlete protests may risk dividing audiences and may also put Olympic sponsors on edge. But assuming this is the case, is this reason enough to ban such expression altogether?

Regardless, in the same way sport nationalism will likely never be completely erased, athletes’ political expression will continue to be part of the Olympic fabric. Fundamentally, it all boils down to whether it is truly possible to disentangle politics and sport? If so, is it realistic or even desirable? One could maybe argue that this unbundling is necessary to promote international unity and to ensure the universality, neutrality and autonomy of sport. However, how far should the Olympic Movement go to achieve this result and is such a consequentialist approach appropriate considering the pressures it places on athletes – i.e. do the ends justify the means? I would argue that this process of sanitization is burdened with too many moral concerns and is an enforcement minefield in practice. While outside the scope of this blog, it should be noted that it is not difficult to imagine an athlete challenging the concerned provisions on the basis of human rights and/or EU law.

All things considered, the IOC chooses the kind of politics it is willing to tolerate within its sphere of influence. The national structures within the Olympic Movement, the influence of national governments, and the seducing narratives of nationalism create significant headwinds in favor of the politics of sport nationalism. Therefore, the IOC, an entity that embodies the transnational, has a responsibility to be a counterbalance in this system.[27] In doing so, the IOC - the leader of the Olympic Movement – should defend, or at least tolerate, the free expression of its ‘people’, the athletes. This is not a radical proposition. It is worth remembering that athletes form an integral part of the Olympic Movement.^[28] Simply respecting the free expression of athletes does not automatically sacrifice the political neutrality of the Olympic Movement.

4.     Conclusion

Over the past year, the IOC has faced increasing public pressure, particularly from athlete stakeholders (see here, here and here) to reverse its course concerning Rule 50 of the Olympic Charter. As a result, it announced that the IOC Athletes Commission would conduct a consultation process concerning Rule 50. The IOC Athletes Commission just recently finished its consultation and its ‘recommendations will be presented to the IOC Executive Board by the end of April 2021’. Meanwhile, NOCs have also individually taken certain steps to allow more athlete activism, such as the US Olympic and Paralympic Committee (USOPC) which has committed to not sanction athletes who ‘peacefully and respectfully’ protest ‘in support of racial and social justice for all human beings’. In this regard, the USOPC declared that ‘human rights are not political, calls for equity and equality must not be confused with divisive demonstrations’. While perhaps attractive at first glance, the USOPC is only moving the goalposts by playing semantics with ‘politics’ by narrowing its definition to eliminate ‘human rights’[29] from its ambit. In doing so, the USOPC does not explain why human rights are not political issues. The reality is that the scope and implications of human rights remain hotly contested issues everywhere in the world, they can hardly be depoliticized. Nevertheless, the softening of the USOPC’s position and its acknowledgement of some its past mistakes is a good start.[30]

In view of today’s strong social currents, the IOC may be forced to abandon its dream of a pure and apolitical Olympic Games. Politics has and will continue to ooze into the sanitized spaces of the Olympic Games. Allowing athletes to raise their voice during the Games would allow them to share their political views with the world, instead of confining them to remaining passive laborers in the Olympic economy subject to the power politics of states.

[1] Although the current IOC President, Thomas Bach, would likely dispute this point. Bach recently argued: ‘Neither awarding the Games, nor participating, are a political judgment regarding the host country.’ See Thomas Bach, ‘The Olympics are about diversity and unity, not politics and profit. Boycotts don't work’ (The Guardian, 24 October 2020).

[2] This is by no means an exhaustive list.

[3] Philip Barker, ‘The forbidden Olympic table’ (Inside the Games, 24 January 2020).

[4] See how the Washington Post gleefully counts the number of US gold medals and celebrates the fact that the U.S. has ‘more than double any other country’s count’. See Team GB’s (British Olympic Association) fervent count of its medals at Rio 2016. See also Team USA’s (U.S. Olympic and Paralympic Committee) glorification of its record-breaking medal count at the Rio 2016.

[5] For example when athletes are used during photo ops for political leaders around the world. See United States (Trump and Obama), Russia (here and here), and The Netherlands among many others.

[6] Ivo van Hilvoorde, Agnees Elling and Ruud Stokvis, ‘How to influence national pride? The Olympic medal index as a unifying narrative’ [2010] 45 International Review for the Sociology of Sport 87.

[7] Jackie Hogan, ‘Staging The Nation: Gendered and Ethnicized Disources of National Identity in Olympic Opening Ceremonies’ [2003] 27 Journal of Sport and Social Issues 100.

[8] Rule 50: ‘No kind of demonstration or political, religious or racial propaganda is permitted in any Olympic sites, venues or other areas.’

[9] Indeed, athletes have been banned for life in the past for political actions. For instance, Vince Matthews and Wayne Collett who were banned for life after a podium protest at the 1972 Munich Olympics. Recently, there have been calls to undo their life bans.

[10] See also Team GB’s tracking of its own ‘record-breaking’ medal performance at the Rio Games.

[11] For some examples of the media obsession around the Olympic Games’ medal tables see: ‘Tokyo Olympics 2020 medal table: How does it work, which country usually wins and what are Britain's hopes?’ (The Telegraph, 26 January 2021); ‘Rio Olympics 2016: Team GB’s record breakers return home from Rio’ (BBC, 23 August 2016). ‘2020 Olympics: USA forecast to top medals table with GB and Australia fifth’ (The Guardian, 23 July 2019); Lazaro Gamio, Kim Soffen and Chiqui Esteban, ‘1,000 Times Gold’ (The Washington Post).

[12] Some have even suggested that the US performance at the 2012 London Olympics could have contributed to a boost in Obama’s polling for the presidential election that year. See John Cassidy, ‘Did the Olympics Boost Obama?’ (The New Yorker, 10 August 2012).

[13] See Germany’s concern of its place in medal rankings to justify restructuring its funding for elite sport. This is also acknowledged by van Hilvoorde, Elling and Stokvis (n 6).

[14] Original: ‘We streven naar meer medailles, in meer disciplines, met meer impact.’

[15] The Pyeongchang editorial guidelines (page 14) do not discourage their use.

[16] Rule 2 (11) Olympic Charter.

[17] See also other examples of the abuse of sport and athletes for political purposes by ‘states that use the Games for geo-political posturing’ in the first blog of this series.

[18] On the narratives around medal tables and the Games see van Hilvoorde, Elling and Stokvis (n 6).

[19] Rule 1 (1) Olympic Charter. Principles such as political neutrality and the autonomy and universality of sport.

[20] Rule 2 (5) Olympic Charter.

[21] Hogan (n 7).

[22] The media may also help stir nationalism by depicting the athletes of its home-nation as ‘succeeding because of their intellect, commitment, and consonance’ while foreign athletes fail due to insufficient ‘strength and skill’. See James Angelini, Andrew Billings and Paul MacArthur, ‘The Nationalistic Revolution Will Be Televised: The 2010 Vancouver Olympic Games on NBC’ [2012] 5 International Journal of Sport Communication 193. Also – Andrew Billings and others, Nationalistic Notions of the Superpowers: Comparative Analyses of the American and Chinese Telecasts in the 2008 Beijing Olympiad [2011] 55 Journal of Broadcasting & Electronic Media 251. Again, on narratives surrounding the Games and medal tables see van Hilvoorde, Elling and Stokvis (n 6).

[23] See Hogan (n 7). See also John Hargreaves, ‘Olympism and Nationalism: Some Preliminary Consideration’ [1992] 27 International Review for the Sociology of Sport 119.

[24] van Hilvoorde, Elling and Stokvis (n 6). See also George Orwell’s description of nationalism and sport in ‘The Sporting Spirit’.

[25] Hargreaves (n 23). It is interesting to note Hargreaves mentions how the Olympic Movement in of itself could perhaps be a sort of counterweight to such a ‘international relation model’. However, given how the Olympic Movement seems to have in many respects abandoned its fight against sport nationalism in the decades since, this caveat has arguably lost much of its weight.

[26] IOC President Thomas Bach even recognizes the trends of ‘rising nationalism’.

[27] This relates to Hargreaves’ point of the Olympic Movement acting to a certain extent autonomously and not simply ‘instruments of foreign policy’ of states. See Hargreaves (n 23).

[28] Rule 1 (1) Olympic Charter: ‘Under the supreme authority and leadership of the International Olympic Committee, the Olympic Movement encompasses organisations, athletes and other persons who agree to be guided by the Olympic Charter. The goal of the Olympic Movement is to contribute to building a peaceful and better world by educating youth through sport practised in accordance with Olympism and its values.’ (emphasis added)

[29] It is possible that the USOPC primarily is referring to ‘racial and social justice’.

[30] The USOPC also recognized its past errors in taking positions against athletes in previous instances.

Star Lawyer Jean-Louis Dupont is almost a monopolist as far as high profile EU law and football cases are concerned. This year, besides a mediatised challenge against UEFA’s FFP regulations, he is going after FIFA’s TPO ban on behalf of the Spanish and Portuguese leagues in front of the EU Commission, but also before the Brussels First Instance Court defending the infamous Malta-based football investment firm Doyen Sport. FIFA and UEFA’s archenemy, probably electrified by the 20 years of the Bosman ruling, is emphatically trying to reproduce his world-famous legal prowess. Despite a first spark at a success in the FFP case against UEFA with the Court of first instance of Brussels sending a preliminary reference to the Court of Justice of the EU (CJEU), this has proven to be a mirage as the CJEU refused, as foretold, to answer the questions of the Brussels Court, while the provisory measures ordered by the judge have been suspended due to UEFA’s appeal. But, there was still hope, the case against FIFA’s TPO ban, also involving UEFA and the Belgium federation, was pending in front of the same Brussels Court of First Instance, which had proven to be very willing to block UEFA’s FFP regulations. Yet, the final ruling is another disappointment for Dupont (and good news for FIFA). The Court refused to give way to Doyen’s demands for provisional measures and a preliminary reference. The likelihood of a timely Bosman bis repetita is fading away. Fortunately, we got hold of the judgment of the Brussels court and it is certainly of interest to all those eagerly awaiting to know whether FIFA’s TPO ban will be deemed compatible or not with EU law.

I.               Facts and Procedure

The case was introduced in March 2015 by Doyen Sports Investments Limited, the Maltese investment fund specialised in football and an obscure Belgium football club, the RFC Seresien/Seraing United, against the Belgium federation (URBSFA), FIFA and UEFA. For its part, FIFPro decided to voluntarily intervene in the debates.

Seraing United plays in the Proximus League, the Belgium Second Division, and signed a specific collaboration contract with Doyen Sports on 30 January 2015. This collaboration contract foresees that Doyen and Seraing United will collaborate to select at least two players in each summer transfer window to be recruited by Seraing via a TPI (Third-Party Investment). In return, Doyen will contribute 300 000€ for the 2015/2016 season to Seraing’s budget and own 30% of rights of the players it has picked. For example, during this summer’s transfer window Seraing and Doyen have concluded a TPI contract to finance the recruitment of Ferraz Pereira. It is this contract that led to the present dispute. Indeed, as Seraing indicated in its filing for registration that Ferraz Perreira was recruited via a TPI contract, the URBSFA decided to block the registration of the player in the FIFA TMS system. The procedure regarding the release of an International Transfer Certificate is still on-going in front of FIFA’s internal bodies.

The claimants demanded that the judge blocked any attempt of FIFA, UEFA and the Belgium federation to implement the TPO ban (in the form of FIFA Circular 1464) and, if necessary, to send a preliminary reference to the CJEU.

II.             Jurisdiction of the Brussels Court

The first key question, as in the FFP case, was whether the Brussels Court had jurisdiction over the matter. This was unproblematic as far as the demands against the Belgium federation are concerned, as it is seated in Belgium and a potential arbitration clause does not hinder the demand of provisory measures to the national judge under Belgium law.

As far as UEFA and FIFA are concerned, however, the question is more complex. The Brussels Court quickly side-lined the objection based on a putative CAS arbitration clause, but it went into greater details concerning its international jurisdiction on the basis of the Lugano Convention. Under article 6 par. 1 of the Lugano Convention a defendant can be sued in the court of a place where one of the defendants is domiciled if “the claims are so closely connected that it is expedient to hear and determine them together to avoid the risk of irreconcilable judgments resulting from separate proceedings”. In the FFP case, it is this close connection between the claims raised against UEFA and the Belgium Federation that could not be decisively proven and that led the Court to declare itself incompetent to deal with the matter. In the present case, the Court clearly distinguishes between FIFA and UEFA.

Concerning the claims raised against FIFA, the Court considers that:

“The relations between FIFA and the URBSFA are characterized by the fact that FIFA is the association adopting the international regulations which national federations, members of FIFA, including the URBSFA, have the duty to respect and enforce against their own members, i.e. the football clubs.” (para.42 of the judgment)

It deduces from this consideration that the URBSFA will have to implement FIFA’s TPO ban. However, this close connection exists only insofar as the claims raised are connected with provisory measures to be applied on the Belgian territory. In the eyes of the Court, FIFA’s objections to its jurisdiction based on article 22.2 of the Lugano Convention are not relevant, insofar that the case does not involve primarily a question of company or association law. The Court, contrary to the FFP case against UEFA, concludes that it has jurisdiction to deal with the claims raised against FIFA. This is a first, clear, legal victory for Jean-Louis Dupont. Yet this does not apply to UEFA as it did not adopt the regulations challenged, nor is the Belgium federation implementing its rules when enforcing the TPO ban. Thus, a close link in the sense of article 6 par. 1 of the Lugano Convention is missing[1]. Neither is article 31 of the Lugano Convention suitable to ground the Court’s jurisdiction against UEFA[2]. Hence, the Court declares itself incompetent to deal with the claims raised against UEFA.

The Court’s recognition that it has jurisdiction to deal with the claims directed against FIFA’s TPO ban insofar as FIFA’s rules have to be implemented by the URBSFA on the Belgium territory meant that this time Dupont could hope for a viable preliminary reference. Yet, as we will see, this did not lead to the award of the provisory measures hoped by the claimants.

III.           The conditions for awarding provisory measures under Belgium law

Under Belgium law two main conditions need to be fulfilled to lead to the granting of provisory measures: there need to be urgency and “appearance of right” (condition de l’apparence), which is analogous to the likelihood to prevail. There is urgency when it is feared that harm of certain intensity, or the likelihood of a serious inconvenience, make an immediate decision preferable. In the present case, the Court considers that Doyen is necessarily negatively affected by the TPO ban, as it is unable to exercise its economic activity[3]. The ban prejudices also Seraing United, which is deprived of an opportunity to finance its activities in a difficult context (URBSFA’s new regulations restricting the conditions to be considered a professional club). Thus, the Court finds that the urgency of the matter is given.

However, and this is the crux of the case, the judge refuses to consider that there is an appearance of right. In other words, he denied that the claimants are likely to prevail on the substance of the application of EU competition law. This is the most important part of the judgment, as it is the first time that a judicial authority adopts a legally binding (though provisional) opinion on the potential compatibility of the TPO ban with EU competition law (the much-cited Spanish’s Competition Authority opinion is advisory and does not cover the application of EU competition law). The claimants argued that the TPO ban is contrary to EU competition law (Article 101 and 102 TFEU) and to the EU free movement rights (Article 63, 56 and 45 TFEU). While, FIFPro, to which the Court recognized the privilege of expressing the collective opinion of professional players, FIFA and UEFA considered that it is compatible with EU law. 

The Court, first, refers to the Piau ruling of the CJEU to affirm that FIFA has a dominant position on the market for the services of players’ agents[4]. This is not surprising. In fact the judge insists that the key legal question is whether there is an abuse of this dominant position. In this regard it considers that both abuses of dominant position under article 102 TFEU and restrictions on free competition under article 101 par. 1 TFEU must be analysed with due consideration to the specific sector in which FIFA is active and to the legitimate objectives it claims to pursue.[5] Subsequently, the judgment lists a number of factors highlighted by FIFA and FIFPro underlying the legitimate objectives of the ban:

·      These practices are mainly the deed of investment firms

·      From which we do not know the shareholders

·      Which conclude contracts with different clubs, potentially directly competing against each other on the field

·      These contracts are opaque as they are not registered

·      They can be easily transferred

·      The third-party investors are interested in the players’ quick transfers, in short sequences, as they will then reap their benefits

·      This is contradictory with the objective of contractual stability during the players contract with their club

·      If the transfer is not effectuated before the end of the employment contract (knowing that at this time the player recovers his full contractual freedom), the clubs are due to pay compensation […].[6]

The Court concludes that it is likely that third-party investors/owners will be in a conflict of interest, with equally important risks of manipulations and match-fixing arising, all of this in a totally opaque environment. Thus, though the TPI/TPO practice is apparently of financial nature, it is deemed to have important sporting consequences. Moreover, the Court remarks that the ban on the influence of third parties on clubs introduced by FIFA a few years ago via article 18 bis of the FIFA RSTP has proven ineffective. This hints at the necessity of a total ban. Additionally, it referred to the legitimate objectives of the ban invoked by FIFPro as representative of the point of view of the players.

In fine, the Court concluded that the likelihood that FIFA’s TPO ban would fail the tests of proportionality and necessity is not proven “with the force necessary” to warrant awarding provisional measures and, subsequently, rejects the demands of the claimants.

Conclusion: EU law is no magic bullet against FIFA’s regulations

Jean-Louis Dupont lost a new battle, but as far as FIFA’s TPO ban is concerned it is only the beginning of a long legal war. He still has a case to defend in the main proceedings and the opening of an investigation of the EU Commission to hope for (as well as a potential appeal to the CJEU in case the complaint on behalf of Doyen and the Iberian leagues is rejected). Nevertheless, this decision is no good omen for the future of his case. It is a worthy reminder that EU law is no magic bullets against the regulations of Sports Governing Bodies (SGBs), and FIFA in particular. The Meca-Medina/Wouters inherency test prevailing in competition cases and the similar proportionality test applied in the context of free movement rights ensure that the legitimate objectives of the regulatory practices of the SGBs are duly taken into account in the judicial or administrative review process. In fact, despite the recurrent complaints voiced by SGBs against EU law’s deregulatory bias and insensitivity to sports’ specificity, in reality the case law of the CJEU and the decisional practice of the Commission has been rather (too?) accommodating with sport’s specificities, regulatory needs and ideals. What EU law imposes is a duty to properly justify private regulations that find no sufficient legitimacy, to say the least, in the democratic nature of their legislative process[7]. Yet, especially when the diverse set of stakeholders active in a specific sporting field converge in favour of a particular policy orientation, as is the case with the TPO ban, which is supported by ECA and FIFPro, there is a strong presumption that the regulations concerned will be deemed proportionate and in the general interest. The implicit presumption of legitimacy and necessity of FIFA’s TPO ban can only be rebutted with extremely thorough arguments from the part of the claimants and will probably require that they convincingly demonstrate the easy availability of a less restrictive alternative system to deal with the perceived risks resulting from the widespread recourse to TPO/TPI agreements. As the Belgium Court aptly put it, the EU free movement rights are not absolute; if necessary they can, and will, be restricted in the name of the general interest[8].

[1] Ordinance, Brussels Court of First Instance, n°15/67/C, 24.07.2015, para.53-54

[2] Ibid, para. 55-57

[3] Ibid, para. 87.

[4] Ibid, para.94

[5]« L’existence d’un éventuel abus de position dominante (article 102 TUE) mais également celle d’une éventuelle restriction de la concurrence (article 101.1 TUE) sont notamment analysées au regard du secteur spécifique dans lequel la Fifa est active et des objectifs légitimes qui sous-tendent l’interdictiom nouvelle des TPI/TPO », Ibid, para.95.

[6] My translation of the bullet points included at para.95 of the decision.

[7] On this important role of EU law, see B. Van Rompuy, ‘The Role of EU Competition Law in Tackling Abuse of Regulatory Power by Sports Associations’, Maastricht Journal of European and Comparative Law, Vol.22, Issue 2, 2015 pp.179-208.

[8] « Ces droits ne sont pas absolus, mais peuvent connaître des limites nécessitées par l’intérêt général ». Para.99 of the decision.

On 24 and 25 October, the Asser Institute will host an advanced professional training co-organised by Ben Van Rompuy and Antoine Duval focused on 'EU competition law and transnational sports governance'. The training is building on their experience acting as legal advisors for the complaint submitted to the European Commission (EC) by two Dutch speed-skaters, Mark Tuitert and Niels Kerstholt, against the International Skating Union (ISU), leading to the first negative decision rendered by the EC against an international sports governing body (SGB).  

The training will consist of: 

• An in-depth introduction to the specific application of EU competition law to transnational sports governance

• Specific sessions on the different (national, European and transnational) processes (both judicial and administrative) through which EU competition law claims can be raised against international SGBs

• A concrete case study during which the group will be divided into teams representing different sides of a competition law claim involving an SGB

• A round-table with  leading experts in EU competition law and sports for an interactive discussion on future developments in this area

[More information and registration HERE]

Why this professional training? 

Transnational sports governance is not neutral, its exercise comes with considerable economic effects and consequences, which can be controversial. In recent years we have witnessed an uptick of challenges on the basis of EU competition law against the governance decisions of international SGBs. In 2017, the European Commission for the first time adopted a decision finding a sporting rule (the ISU’s Eligibility Rules prohibiting skaters from participating in third-party events) in violation of EU competition law. Since then, we have seen a string of decisions by national competition authorities and high-profile private actions being launched against, for instance, UEFA and FIFA by the European Super League Company, football club Royal Antwerp F.C. or football agents. In short, EU competition law has become the main legal avenue through which regulations and decisions of international SGBs are being contested– both from outside the Olympic family and within. It is therefore crucial that sports stakeholders become proficient in the language of EU competition law, in understanding the specificities of its application to transnational sports governance, and in grasping the intricacies of the legal processes that can be used to do so. 

Is this training for you? 

This training is primarily aimed at professionals involved in the field of sports governance, such as legal counsels of SGBs, practicing lawyers active in the sports sector, public servants involved in the enforcement of competition law in the sporting context, and representatives of athletes, clubs and other sports stakeholders.  The advanced training will be both interactive, focusing on open exchanges between experts and participants, and participative, with the preparation of a case study in smaller groups.  

[More information and registration HERE]

Speakers include:

• Prof. Stephen Weatherill
• Prof. An Vermeersch
• Mark E. Orth
• Dr. Ben Van Rompuy
• Dr. Antoine Duval

[More information and registration HERE]

Programme

Day 1 - Tuesday, 24 October

12:30 – 13:00 - Registration

13:00 – 13:30 - Welcome and introduction - Antoine Duval & Ben Van Rompuy

13:30 – 15:00 - How EU competition law applies to transnational sports governance: Key doctrines and cases  - Antoine Duval & Ben Van Rompuy

15:00 – 15:30 Coffee Break

15:30 – 16:30 - Bringing a competition law case against SGBs before the European Commission: Lessons from the ISU case  - Ben Van Rompuy & Antoine Duval

16:30 – 17:30 - Bringing a competition law case against SGBs in national courts: The German experience -  Mark E. Orth

17:30 – 18:00 - Bringing a competition law case against SGBs before the CAS: Opportunities and challenges -  Antoine Duval

19:00 - Dinner

Day 2 - Wednesday, 25 October

9:00 – 12:00 - Case study on FIFA’s Football Agent Regulations and EU competition law - Antoine Duval, Ben Van Rompuy, Mark E. Orth

12:00 – 13:00 Lunch

13:00 – 15:00 - Case study on FIFA’s Football Agent Regulations and EU competition law - Antoine Duval, Ben Van Rompuy, Mark E. Orth, An Vermeersch and Stephen Weatherill

15:00 – 15:30 - Coffee Break

15:30 – 17:00 - Closing discussion on the future of EU competition law and transnational sports governance - Antoine Duval, Ben Van Rompuy, Mark E. Orth, An Vermeersch, and Stephen Weatherill  

Introduction
On 25 March 2015, the Labour Court of Mainz issued its decision in proceedings brought by a German footballer, Heinz Müller, against his (now former) club 1. FSV Mainz 05 (Mainz 05). The Court sided with the player and ruled that Müller should have been employed by Mainz 05 for an indefinite period following his 2009 three year contract with the club which was subsequently extended in 2011 to run until mid-2014. The judgment was based on national law implementing Directive 1999/70 on fixed-term work[1] (Directive) with the latter being introduced pursuant to art. 155(2) TFEU (ex art. 139(2) TEC). On the basis of this article, European social partners’ may request a framework agreement which they conclude to be implemented on the European Union (EU, Union) level by a Council decision on a proposal from the Commission. One of the objectives of the framework agreement,[2] and therefore of the Directive, was to establish a system to prevent abuse arising from the use of successive fixed-term employment contracts or relationships[3] which lies at the heart of the discussed problem.[4] Two clauses enshrined in the framework agreement are of particular relevance to the issue of fixed-term contracts in football, namely, clause 2 which governs the Directive’s scope of application, and clause 5 which concerns measures to prevent abuse. The main questions in this regard are therefore whether fixed-term contracts in football may escape the application of the Directive based on clause 2, or be compatible with it pursuant to clause 5. The present blog post presenting the general European framework for fixed-term contract, will be followed by an in depth case note on the decision in the Müller case.

I. Employment contracts in football and the scope of application of the Directive (clause 2)
The second paragraph of clause 2 names specific types of employment relationships which the Member States, after consultation with social partners, and/or social partners may exclude from the scope of application of the Directive. Clause 2(2) does not contain any explicit provisions which would allow for the possibility of football players’ contracts to be excluded from the scope of the Directive. Also, the wording of the provision indicates that the list of the employment relationships covered by the exception is exhaustive,[5] which in turn precludes the possibility of interpreting the clause in a manner which would accommodate contracts between football clubs and their players.

Clause 2(1), on the other hand, provides that the Directive ‘applies to fixed-term workers who have an employment contract or employment relationship as defined in law, collective agreements or practice in each Member State’. As a result, the definition of ‘worker’ for the purpose of the Directive has no autonomous meaning, but is subject to the national laws of the Member States.[6] Therefore, the manner in which the framework agreement has been drafted opens the possibility for the Member States to exclude some categories of workers from the scope of application of the Directive. It follows, that based on the pure wording of clause 2(1) national authorities could theoretically deprive, inter alia, football players of the protection granted under the Directive by merely classifying them as e.g. service providers.

Despite the autonomy granted to national authorities in this regard, clause 2(1) may not be understood as providing the Member States with unlimited discretion. Recital 17 of the Directive’s preamble clearly states that the Member States are to define some of the terms included in the framework agreement ‘provided that the definitions in question respect [its content].’ Moreover, art. 2 of the Directive stipulates that ‘the Member states are […] required to take any necessary measures to enable them […] to guarantee the results imposed by [the] Directive.’[7] The flexibility granted to national authorities is further limited by the need to ensure the effective implementation of EU-derived rights. The Court of Justice of the European Union’s (CJEU, Court) rulings set the limits to the Member States’ discretion in the implementation of clause 2(1). In this regard, the CJEU ruled in Del Cerro[8] that the Directive is applicable to ‘all workers providing remunerated services in the context of a fixed-term employment relationship linking them to their employer.’[9] The Court also stated that ‘in reserving to Member States the ability to remove at will certain categories of persons from the protection offered by [the Directive] and the [framework agreement], the effectiveness of those Community instruments would be in jeopardy as would their uniform application in the Member States.’[10] Also, in the opinion of Advocate General (AG) Maduro the concept of ‘worker’ for the purpose of the Directive must be interpreted in a way which complies with its objectives.[11]  According to the AG, the Member States should not be allowed to rely on the ‘formal’ or ‘special’ nature of the rules applicable to certain employment relationships in order to exclude them from the scope of application of the Directive.[12] Consequently, excluding a specific group from the benefit of protection afforded by the Directive can only be accepted if the competent national court decides that the nature of the employment relationship concerned is ‘substantially different from that between employees falling, according to national law, within the category of workers’.[13]

A similar reasoning to the one used in Del Cerro has been applied in Sibilio[14] where the Court, relying on recital 17 and the need to preserve the Directive’s effectiveness, ruled that in the light of the objectives pursued by the framework agreement the formal classification by the national legislature cannot rule out that a person must be recognized as a ‘worker’ if such a formality is merely notional, and thus conceals the real employment relationship.[15] Therefore, in determining what constitutes an employment contract or employment relationship under national law or practice, and thus when determining the scope of application of the Directive, the definition of these concepts may not result in an arbitrary exclusion of a category of persons from the protection offered by the Directive.[16] The CJEU leaves it for the national courts to conclude whether a person falls within the definition of a ‘worker’ based on the characteristics of the work conducted and the circumstances in which it is carried out.[17] Moreover, in Fiamingo[18] and Mascolo[19] the CJEU later confirmed that no particular sector is excluded from the scope of application of the Directive.[20]

Even though the issue of who is to be considered as a ‘worker’ pursuant to the Directive does not fall within the competence of the EU, and thus, the definition established for the purpose of the internal market provisions may not be directly applied in the context of the Directive, the autonomous Union concept of ‘worker’ and the case-law of the CJEU provide guidelines and support for the national courts of the Member State. In this regard, the CJEU stated in Lawrie-Blum[21] that ‘the essential feature of an employment relationship […] is that for a certain period of time a person performs services for and under the direction of another person in return for which he receives remuneration.’[22] The Court elaborated on the matter in Trojani[23] where it ruled that ‘any person who pursues activities which are real and genuine, to the exclusion of activities on such a small scale as to be regarded as purely marginal and ancillary, must be regarded as a worker’.[24] It cannot be denied that footballers meet the criteria set out in the case-law. The activity they pursue is genuine, they conduct their work under supervision of others, namely clubs and coaches, and receive, often hefty, remuneration.[25] It is also important to add here that already in Bosman[26] the CJEU provided, first, that the existence of, or the intention to create, an employment relationship is the only requirement necessary for the purposes of the application of EU provisions concerning the free movement of workers, and second, that football players could be regarded as workers for the purpose of (now) art. 45 TFEU.[27] This particular finding has been directly confirmed in Olympique Lyonnais.[28] It is not precluded that such considerations should influence national courts in their findings concerning ‘characteristics’ and ‘circumstances’ of the activity exercised by football players should a question in this regard arise. As a result, it seems unlikely that contracts between footballers and their clubs could fall outside the scope of the Directive.

II. Employment contracts in football and measures to prevent abuse (clause 5)
Due to the fact that the social partners considered that contracts for an indefinite period are the general form of employment,[29] the Directive sets out specific measures which serve to secure one of the Directive’s main goals, i.e. prevention of abuse arising from the use of successive fixed-term employment contracts. In this regard, and pursuant to clause 5, the Member States after consultation with social partners, and/or the social partners, are obliged to establish at least one of the measures provided, i.e., i) objective reasons justifying renewal of fixed-term contracts or relationships; ii) the maximum total duration of successive fixed-term employment contracts or relationships; iii) the number of renewals of such contracts or relationships. This particular obligation exists when there are no equivalent legal measures already in place in the national legal orders. Moreover, in establishing the measures the national authorities are to take into account the needs of specific sectors and/or categories of workers. Since the objective reasons justification is the only measure which could facilitate the maintenance of the current status quo relating to fixed-term contracts in football, it is necessary to focus on this particular provisions.

A. Interpretation of ‘objective reasons’ justification in the CJEU’s case-law
The CJEU has had a chance to rule on the interpretation of clause 5 ‘objective reasons’ on a number of occasions. Consequently, for the purpose of relying on the justification the employer not only needs to be eligible to invoke ‘objective reasons’ defence as provided for under national law, but also the national implementing measure needs to comply with the conditions established in the Court’s case-law. In this regard, the CJEU ruled in Adeneler[30] that the concept of ‘objective reasons’ refers to ‘precise and concrete circumstances characterising a given activity, which are therefore capable in that particular context of justifying the use of successive fixed-term employment contracts.’[31] The Court further elaborated on the matter by providing that ‘[those] circumstances may result, in particular, from the specific nature of the tasks for the performance of which such contracts have been concluded and from the inherent characteristics of those tasks […].’[32] As a result, national provisions may not be of a purely formal nature, but must justify recourse to successive fixed-term contracts ‘by the presence of objective factors relating to the particular features of the activity concerned and to the conditions under which it is carried out […].’[33] Thus, ‘a national provision which merely authorises recourse to successive fixed-term employment contracts in a general and abstract manner […]’[34] does not fulfil the criteria. In this regard, the Court added that ‘recourse to fixed-term employment contracts solely on the basis of a general provision of statute or secondary legislation, unlinked to what the activity in question specifically comprises, does not permit objective and transparent criteria to be identified in order to verify whether the renewal of such contracts actually responds to a genuine need, is appropriate for achieving the objective pursued and is necessary for that purpose’.[35] Moreover, the CJEU also indicated that national laws which allow for the use of successive fixed-term contracts in the context of employers’ needs which are not of a limited duration, and thus temporary, but de facto ‘fixed and permanent’ will not be compatible with the Directive.[36] The above-mentioned findings of the Court have been confirmed in a number of judgments such as Angelidaki[37]. This case concerned individuals who claimed that their fixed-term contracts with the local authorities, which the latter decided not to extended or renew upon their expiry, should have been recognized as contracts of indefinite period as the work performed was of a ‘fixed and permanent’ nature. Reliance on the criteria provided by the CJEU in Adeneler is also evident in Mascolo in which the Court addressed the issue of compatibility with the Directive of Italian national law on the basis of which teachers recruited in schools administered by public authorities and working as temporary replacement staff were employed under successive fixed-term contracts. A similar issue to the one in Mascolo emerged in Kücük[38] which concerned a clerk in the court office who was employed on a number of successive fixed-term contracts as a replacement for several permanent employees due to temporary leave having been granted to the clerks employed for an indefinite duration. Here again the CJEU referred to the established case-law and clarified that temporary needs of employers also cover the need for replacing employees on leave even in situations where the tasks assigned to fixed-term worker are part of the undertaking’s usual activities.[39] This was the result of the need for replacement staff being of a temporary nature.[40] As the social partners themselves indicated that ‘fixed-term contracts are a feature of employment in certain sectors, occupations and activities which can suit both employers and workers’[41] it is thus necessary to evaluate whether objective reasons for the justification of fixed-term contracts in football might be identified.

B. Existence of ‘objective reasons’ justifying fixed-term contracts in football
With regard to the above, it can be argued that the specific circumstances inherent to the exercise of football as a profession are susceptible to justify the successive use of fixed-term employment contracts. In that respect, uncertainty as to players’ performance has always been an inseparable element of not only football but sports in general. No matter what level of performance a player displays over a particular span of time, it can never be excluded, rather it can be expected with certainty, that a (significant) drop in performance will take place. This concerns especially ‘older’ players, i.e. those in their thirties. It is common knowledge that after reaching a certain age athletes’ physical condition deteriorates, thus making it impossible for them to maintain a steady level of performance, and thus, to contribute to the combined efforts of the team they represent. Furthermore, FIFA transfer rules limit players’ possibility of terminating contracts. Art. 14 of the 2015 Regulations on the Status and Transfer of Players allows for termination to take place where a just cause exists. In this respect, introduction of contracts for indefinite period could open the possibility for players to rely on statutory termination periods in order to dissolve contracts, and thus, to become free agents. Consequently, football clubs, and especially those which focus on youth development, could be deprived of a substantial part of their income from transfer fees. This in turn could, first, limit the incentives for training young players, and second, would make it even easier for the richer clubs to acquire talents with negative consequences on competitive balance in football. Moreover, provision 43.02 of the Regulations of the UEFA Champions League 2015-18 Cycle provides that clubs may only register 25 players for the purpose of playing in the competition. Forcing clubs to sign players on indefinite contracts, combined with a limit placed on the amount of footballers that can be registered, will make it even more challenging for youngsters to enter the first team. Furthermore, as it is usually more difficult for the employer to terminate a contract, football clubs could be (indirectly) forced to keep those footballers who no longer fit the team’s tactics or club’s policy (e.g. focus on youth). In this respect, establishing contracts for an indefinite period as the industry’s standard could again negatively influence the chances of young players signing a contract. Furthermore, clubs need to be able to adjust their squads and establish stable teams in order to effectively compete on both national and international levels, and to retain, attract and satisfy their supporters. In our view, fixed-term contracts, by their very nature, are therefore better suited to address the specific characteristics of football as a sport, and as an industry.

C. Possible obstacles to the application of ‘objective reasons’ justification to contracts in football
Nevertheless, even if it is accepted that successive fixed-term contracts between footballers and their clubs may be justified based on objective reasons, it still remains that the justification does not necessarily apply. First, the Member States are free to choose between the clause 5 measures. Consequently, the very possibility of relying on objective reasons depends on the manner in which the Directive has been implemented by the Member States.[42] Second, national implementing measures must comply with the requirements established by the CJEU. Therefore, the Member States that chose to make use of the objective reasons justification are obliged to establish objective factors on the basis of which the application of the justification will be assessed. A general provision of a purely formal nature which does not provide for such objective factors will not be deemed compatible with EU law. In this regard, the criteria or factors established under national law must be capable of being applied to contracts in football. Consequently, national law implementing clause 5 objective reasons needs to be drafted in a manner which allows football contracts to be considered for the purpose of applying the justification, which might be problematic given the fact that the issue has been largely neglected. Third, it has also been established by the CJEU that national laws which allow for the use of successive fixed-term contracts in the context of employers’ needs which are ‘fixed and permanent’ will not be compatible with the Directive. It would go contrary to the objectives pursued by clause 5, i.e. prevention of abuse arising out of successive fixed-term contracts, to allow renewal of such contracts to cover ‘fixed and permanent’ needs of employers.[43] Therefore, if the ‘needs’ of football clubs are considered to be of such a ‘fixed and permanent’ character, and it may be argued that they are, then reliance on the justification would also be endangered.

Concluding remarks
The ruling of the Mainz court questioned, at least in Germany, the current arrangements whereby contracts for a definite period have been established as the industry’s worldwide standard.[44] Consequently, it cannot be excluded that the judgment will once again feed the never-ending discussion on the impact of European law on sport, the debate on the notion of specificity of sport, and more generally, the boundaries between the European Union’s intervention in sport and the autonomy of sports governing bodies. It is safe to assume that considerable controversies will arise in case the decision of the court in Mainz is upheld at higher instances. This, however, will not be the making of the courts, but to a large extent the result of the issue being neglected for years. After all, the Directive was adopted already sixteen years ago and contains no provisions allowing sport to be exempted from its scope. It follows that based on its wording it must also apply to contracts concluded between footballers and clubs. Even though it is possible to justify the successive use of fixed-term contracts on the basis of objective reasons, this depends on the national implementing measures, which do not necessarily provide for such a possibility or are fit to accommodate football contracts.

[1] Council Directive 1999/70/EC concerning the framework agreement on fixed-term work concluded by ETUC, UNICE and CEEP [1999] OJ L 175/43 (Directive)

[2] Annex to the Directive, ETUC-UNICE-CEEP Framework Agreement on Fixed-Term Work (Framework Agreement)

[3] Framework Agreement, recital 14 and clause 1

[4] Clause 1 of the Framework Agreement also mentions a second goal, namely, the improvement of quality of fixed-term work by ensuring the application of the principle of non-discrimination. In this regard, Recital 9 of the Framework Agreement adds that the instrument is to contribute to the improvement of equality of opportunities between men and women

[5] Philippa Watson, EU Social and Employment Law (2^nd edn, Oxford University Press 2014) p 241; see also case C-212/04 Konstantinos Adeneler en anderen tegen Ellinikos Organismos Galaktos (ELOG) [2006] ECR I-6057 (Adeneler), para 57

[6] However, the definition of what constitutes a fixed-term employment has an EU definition. See Directive, clause 3(1)

[7] See also art. 288 TFEU; Adeneler, para 68

[8] Case C-307/05 Yolanda Del Cerro Alonso v Osakidetza-Servicio Vasco de Salud [2007] ECR I-7109 (Del Cerro)

[9] Ibidem, para 28

[10] Ibidem, para 29

[11] Del Cerro, Opinion of AG Maduro, para 14

[12] Ibidem, para 15

[13] Ibidem; see also case C-393/10 Dermod Patrick O’Brien v Ministry of Justice [2012] published in the electronic Reports of cases (O’Brien), para 51

[14] Case C-157/11 Giuseppe Sibilio v Comune di Afragola [2012] published in the electronic Reports of cases (Sibilio)

[15] Ibidem, para 49

[16] Ibidem, para 51; see also O’Brien, para 51

[17] Sibilio, para 52

[18] Joined cases C-362/13 REC, C-363/13 REC and C-407/13 REC Maurizio Fiamingo, Leonardo Zappalà and Francesco Rotondo and Others v Rete Ferroviaria Italiana SpA [2014] not yet published (Fiamingo)

[19] Joined cases C-22/13, C-61/13 to C-63/13 and C-418/13 Raffaella Mascolo, Alba Forni and Immacolata Racca v Ministero dell'Istruzione, dell'Università e della Ricerca, Fortuna Russo v Comune di Napoli and Carla Napolitano and Others v Ministero dell’Istruzione, dell’Università e della Ricerca [2014] not yet published (Mascolo)

[20] Fiamingo, para 38; Mascolo, para 69

[21] Case C-66/85 Deborah Lawrie-Blum v Land Baden-Württemberg [1986] ECR 2121

[22] Ibidem, para 17

[23] Case C-456/02 Michel Trojani v Centre public d'aide sociale de Bruxelles (CPAS) [2004] ECR I-7573

[24] Ibidem, para 15

[25] For a more detailed discussion see Stefaan Van den Bogaert, Practical Regulation of the Mobility of Sportsmen in the EU Post Bosman (Kluwer Law International, The Hague 2005) pp 57-59

[26] Case C-415/93 Union royale belge des sociétés de football association ASBL v Jean-Marc Bosman, Royal club liégeois SA v Jean-Marc Bosman and others and Union des associations européennes de football (UEFA) v Jean-Marc Bosman [1995] ECR I-4921

[27] Ibidem, paras 74, 87, 90

[28] Case C-325/08 Olympique Lyonnais SASP v Olivier Bernard and Newcastle UFC [2010] ECR I-2177 (Olympique Lyonnais), para 29; Olympique Lyonnais, Opinion of AG Sharpston, para 38

[29] Framework Agreement, recital 6; see also Adeneler, para 61

[30] See supra note 5

[31] Ibidem, para 69

[32] Ibidem, para 70

[33] Ibidem, para 72

[34] Ibidem, para 71

[35] Ibidem, para 74

[36] Ibidem, para 88

[37] Joined cases C-378/07 to C-380/07 Kiriaki Angelidaki and Others v Organismos Nomarchiakis Autodioikisis Rethymnis, Charikleia Giannoudi v Dimos Geropotamou and Georgios Karabousanos and Sofoklis Michopoulos v Dimos Geropotamou [2009] ECR I-3071 (Angelidaki)

[38] Case C-586/10 Bianca Kücük v Land Nordrhein-Westfalen [2012] published in the electronic Reports of cases

[39] Ibidem, para 38

[40] Ibidem

[41] Framework Agreement, recital 8

[42] See e.g. Fiamingo, para 61

[43] See e.g. Angelidaki, para 103; Angelidaki, Opinion of AG Kokott, paras 106-107;

[44] In this regard art. 18(2) of 2015 FIFA’s Regulations on the Status and Transfer of Players stipulates that ‘[t]he minimum length of a contract shall be from its effective date until the end of the season, while the maximum length of a contract shall be five years. Contracts of any other length shall only be permitted if consistent with national laws’