Scope of the Book
In my book, Principles of German Criminal Law, I had said in 2009:
This book is ⌠not a traditional textbook of German criminal law in the way that German academics would understand it. My German colleagues will probably say that I left out too much, emphasised the wrong things and indulged in oversimplification, not to mention the mistakes I may have made. While I do not feel that I should immediately plead guilty to that charge in its entirety, a plea of nolo contendere to the first three may be unavoidable, but I will leave that to the judgment of the reader.1
This still holds true for the present volume on the procedural aspects of German criminal justice. The field of criminal procedure is much wider than that of substantive law because practical issues play a more prominent role, which makes the task of selecting the right subjects within the limited space of a mere introduction more difficult. For example, the entire field of international cooperation in criminal matters, an area of huge practical importance for German prosecutors, judges and defence counsel these days, has been left out. Domestic issues, such as, for example, the role of private prosecutors, have been touched upon only in the context of certain other systemic questions, because they are not necessary to understand the general set up. This book is thus on the one hand about the âGermanâ in âGerman Criminal Procedureâ, and on the other hand it does not presume to cover every concept or institution which in itself may without a doubt be worthy of closer attention.
Above all, it is meant to show how the procedure works in practice, rather than to engage in discussing substrata of legal theory, policy or philosophy; it has a definite ânuts-and-boltsâ character, because I feel from experience, not least from first-hand practice during my time at the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia, that the comparative discussion among many common and international criminal lawyers about âtheâ Continental systems often suffers from a lack of precise knowledge about the actual and sometimes major differences between the many Continental systems. The animal which normally gets the lionâs share of attention from common law procedural commentators, the French juge dâinstruction, for example, has been a non-entity in German law for a long time and the role of the independent public prosecutor takes up a lot of what would fall into the remit of an investigating judge in France. It makes little sense, either, to talk about the threshold for preferring an indictment in different jurisdictions as long as one does not know what its exact function and role are in each system, and more to the point, what an indictment actually looks like. The differences between German and English law, for example, could not be more striking, as may be seen from Annex 1. Similar comments apply to judgment drafting, where the education of law2 students at university and in practical training after having obtained a first university degree or state examination, as well as the fact that German law does not know separate or dissenting opinions below the level of the Federal Constitutional Court (Bundesverfassungsgericht â BVerfG), have a marked influence on diction and style; compare, in this regard, Annexes 2 and 3.
For a common lawyer, the code-based structure of German criminal procedure and the interpretation through the case law of the courts, mainly the BVerfG, Bundesgerichtshof (BGH) and the state supreme courts, the Oberlandesgerichte (OLG), as well as the academic commentary, will unavoidably appear to take on a rather technical character at times, as evidenced, for example, in chapter three of this book, which discusses the rather dry topic of jurisdiction and internal case allocation at some length. Where English courts may be more quickly prepared to rely openly on what they call common sense in order to do justice to the individual case, German courts will tend to enforce the application of the rules across the board based on a more doctrinal understanding of the policy of equal treatment, while not losing sight of the old Latin maxim âsummum ius, summa iniuriaâ. This tension is, I hope, explained in the appropriate places in the substantive chapters below.
The main laws relating to the procedural aspects are the Strafprozessordnung (StPO), the Gerichtsverfassungsgesetz (GVG) and the Strafgesetzbuch (StGB), yet for decades now their interpretation has been influenced by the jurisprudence of the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR); however, for Germany, the extension of parliamentary legislation by the judicial application in practice of higher-order principles of law is not that new. Since the implementation of the Grundgesetz (GG) and its catalogue of fundamental rights and liberties, the BVerfG has kept a close watch over the manner in which the ordinary courts administer the sub-constitutional law. In recent times it has done so by de facto raising the case law of the ECtHR to a quasi-constitutional level through the principle that the GG has to be interpreted in a convention-friendly manner unless by doing so the domestic safeguards would be reduced. In other words, German courts do not need to rely as directly and openly on the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) as UK courts, for example, often do via the Human Rights Act 1998, because domestic German law is interpreted in the light of ECtHR jurisprudence, yet never with the aim of finding the lowest common denominator. Notably the strike-down power the BVerfG has even vis-Ă -vis acts of legislation has meant that the civil liberties of the GG quickly acquired the necessary bite in the face of attempted encroachments from the executive, the legislature and even the lower judiciary. The book therefore does not refer as much to the ECHR directly as a UK treatise on the topic might do. However, sometimes even the BVerfG is taken to task by the ECtHR, as happened over the law in the StGB on incapacitation orders (Sicherungsverwahrung), which had passed muster with the former but was partially declared to be in violation of the ECHR by the latter in a string of cases in 2009 and 2010. In an unprecedented landmark decision of 4 May 2011, the BVerfG â apparently in an attempt not to be outdone by its European sister court â jumped at the opportunity presented by a number of constitutional complaints and declared the entire law on incapacitation orders unconstitutional, giving the Federation and the Länder two years to pass new and compliant legislation, something that the complainants had not even asked for. That new legislation has since been implemented and now forms the basis of the revised discussion below in the chapter on sentencing.
Digitalisation has also reached the German administration of justice and since 1 January 20183 the StPO has had a number of new provisions regulating the use of an electronic case file (§§ 32â32f) which â where already in place â have ramifications into all provisions of the law which refer to court records. Where it was relevant for individual substantive issues, this development was referenced but in terms of a general introduction, the topic is too technical and not of sufficient systemic relevance to dedicate a separate part to it.
Mode of Citation
I repeat what was said in the previous edition:
I have kept to the German way of citation of laws. To keep the text as short and uncluttered as possible I have used the German symbol for âsectionâ, which is â§â. After that, the subdivisions are âsubsectionâ (â(1)â, or â(2) to (7)â), âsentenceâ (â1st sentenceâ), ânumberâ (âNo 1â, or âNos 2 to 5â) and letters (â(a)â), âalternativesâ, etc. This is not necessarily an exclusive hierarchical sequence as, depending on the length of individual provisions, numbers could have several sentences, etc.
Thus, for example, the following citation
⧠211(2) 3rd altâ
would read:
âSection 211, subsection (2), third alternativeâ.
The double ⧧â means âsectionsâ. Unless another law is mentioned directly in the citation, all sections cited are those of the StPO.