By Elena Izyumenko
A case currently before the Court of Justice of the European Union (CJEU) – IKEA v. Vlaams Belang (C-298/23) – could become a landmark for freedom of political expression in Europe (understood here as the right to openly share and debate political opinions without fear of censorship or punishment). The case asks a deceptively simple question: Can a political party lawfully parody a famous commercial brand in order to make a political point?
The Background: IKEA Meets Politics
The dispute began in Belgium, where the right-wing party Vlaams Belang launched a campaign called “The IKEA Plan”. The name was an acronym for “Immigratie Kan Echt Anders” – “Immigration Really Can Be Different”. The party presented its immigration proposals in the visual style of IKEA’s well-known instruction manuals, using IKEA’s name, logo and its distinctive blue-and-yellow colours.
IKEA sued, arguing that the use of its name and house style infringed its famous trademark and damaged its reputation. The Belgian court paused the case and asked the CJEU to clarify whether such a use might be justified as being for “due cause” – an EU trademark law concept referring to a legitimate reason for a third party to use a well-known trademark without authorisation, even if the use otherwise takes unfair advantage of, or is detrimental to, the distinctive character or repute of that trademark.
This referral therefore shifts the focus from the technical confines of trademark law to a broader constitutional inquiry: When does freedom of political expression protect speech that borrows elements of a private company’s brand?
From Trademark Dispute to Freedom of Expression
More specifically, the Belgian court asks the CJEU whether freedom of expression, as guaranteed by Article 10 of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR), can qualify as a “due cause” for the use of a trademark and, if so, which balancing factors should be taken into account.
This approach would mean that the CJEU interprets trademark law in light of freedom of expression rather than treating the two as opposing forces. In other words, freedom of expression would not serve as an external “defence” to trademark infringement, but rather as an interpretative tool within trademark law’s own concept of “due cause”.
The case was heard in June 2025, and the Advocate General’s opinion is expected on 13 November.
Commerciality and Competitive Motives
The first factor proposed by the Belgian referring court concerns whether the use of the mark is commercial. In ECtHR jurisprudence, commercial expression—speech aimed at promoting sales or advancing economic interests—enjoys a lower level of protection (see Mouvement raëlien suisse v. Switzerland [GC], §61). By contrast, where the purpose is not economic but contributes to public debate, Article 10 protection is stronger (VgT Verein gegen Tierfabriken v. Switzerland, §57).
In IKEA v. Vlaams Belang, the campaign was part of an electoral strategy, not a commercial one. The party was not selling products or competing with IKEA. The use of the IKEA sign served a rhetorical and parodic function within a political message. Under ECtHR standards, this lack of commercial motive should therefore place the expression within the core of Article 10 protection.
The Belgian court also asks whether Vlaams Belang’s actions could have a “competitive motive”. Yet political actors do not compete in markets. They compete in the marketplace of ideas, which the ECtHR has described as a central arena for democratic deliberation.
Public Interest in Expression and Its Social Relevance
The ECtHR has repeatedly held that there is “little scope” under Article 10(2) for restricting political speech or debate on matters of public interest (Perinçek v. Switzerland [GC], §197). Immigration policy clearly falls within this protected sphere (Unabhängige Initiative Informationsvielfalt v. Austria, §43).
Here, the expression originates from a political party—arguably the most paradigmatic actor in political discourse—and addresses a major issue of public concern. The campaign’s parodic format adds an artistic dimension, which the ECtHR recognises as “a value in itself” (Jelševar and Others v. Slovenia, §37). Taken together, these elements place Vlaams Belang’s parody at the highest level of protection under Article 10: political, artistic, and contributing directly to public debate on migration policies.
The Relationship Between Commerciality and Public Debate
Strasbourg case-law also shows that even when expression has a commercial element, its protection increases if it contributes meaningfully to public debate (VgT Verein gegen Tierfabriken v. Switzerland, §§70-71).
Thus, even if one were to consider Vlaams Belang’s campaign “commercial” in some sense—for instance, because it indirectly sought funding for its political activities—it would still merit strong protection, as it engages with political issues of general concern.
The Trademark’s Reputation and the Power of Corporate Symbols
Trademark law generally offers broader protection to marks with a strong reputation. Yet under freedom-of-expression principles, the reverse may apply: the more powerful or visible the entity, the wider the margin for public critique.
As the ECtHR noted in Markt intern Verlag GmbH and Klaus Beermann v. Germany (§35), companies operating in a market economy expose themselves to public scrutiny. Corporate reputation, being economic rather than moral, enjoys a lesser degree of protection (Uj v. Hungary, §22).
However, this strand of ECtHR case-law offers only limited support to Vlaams Belang. The party’s campaign does not criticise IKEA or its business practices directly but merely borrows the company’s logo and visual style for rhetorical effect. On a narrow reading, this means that the ECtHR’s more permissive approach toward critical speech targeting powerful corporations—including the use of their trademarks as symbols of critique—would apply only marginally, if at all. Under this line of reasoning, the expression would enjoy a lower degree of protection, since it does not fall within the paradigm of “public scrutiny” over corporate conduct.
Alternatively, the CJEU could adopt a broader understanding—one already visible in certain national judgments—that recognises that corporate symbols may represent wider social or cultural phenomena beyond the companies themselves. On this view, the use of such imagery within public discourse should be tolerated even when it is not aimed at the enterprise directly. This broader, speech-protective interpretation finds support in domestic case-law that has sought to balance trademark rights and freedom of expression, such as the German Lila Postkarte case (§§33–35), concerning the humorous reference to Milka’s purple cow on postcards, and the Dutch Nadia Plesner judgment (§94), which addressed the depiction of a Louis Vuitton bag in a painting criticising consumerism and the lack of public attention to the humanitarian crisis in Darfur.
IKEA’s brand is globally recognised and carries considerable social and cultural meaning. Borrowing such imagery for political commentary—even if it does not explicitly critique IKEA itself—should, insofar as the use is not misleading the public, fall within the limits of permissible expression. Otherwise, trademark rights risk becoming shields against legitimate public discourse.
Extent, Proportionality, and the Necessity of Use
The Belgian court also asks how the extent of use—its visibility, intensity, and dissemination—affects the balance.
In ECtHR jurisprudence, a broad dissemination can increase the burden of justification on the speaker (Féret v. Belgium, §76), but parody and artistic expression often require recognisability. The ECtHR in Vereinigung Bildender Künstler v. Austria (§33) accepted that exaggeration and mimicry are intrinsic to the language of art and satire.
In the present case, the recognisability of IKEA’s logo was essential to the parody’s effect. A more abstract or diluted reference would likely have blunted the irony and diminished its effectiveness as political commentary.
Conversely, where the use of a protected sign goes beyond what is necessary for expressive purposes, restrictions under intellectual property law become easier to justify. The former European Commission of Human Rights adopted such reasoning in the early “Camel” case, holding that use of the Camel trademark in an anti-smoking campaign was unnecessary to criticise smoking in general (Österreichische Schutzgemeinschaft für Nichtraucher and Robert Rockenbauer v. Austria (dec.)). By analogy, one might argue that Vlaams Belang could have made its point on immigration policy without invoking IKEA’s imagery.
Yet this restrictive view now appears outdated. Subsequent jurisprudence, the Convention’s “living instrument” doctrine, and national developments favour broader protection for parody. In 2006, for example, the French Supreme Court upheld the use of the Camel brand in a satirical anti-smoking campaign, recognising that Article 10 protects parody’s expressive value over the trademark’s reputational interests (Comité national contre les maladies respiratoires et la tuberculose (CNMTR) v. Société JT). This evolution points to a more speech-protective understanding of necessity and proportionality in parodic uses of trademarks contributing to public debate.
The Trademark’s Functions and the Role of Disclaimers
Trademarks serve two key purposes: identifying the origin of goods and promoting them through advertising. Expression that confuses the public or misleads about endorsement may legitimately be restricted. However, when speakers take care to prevent such confusion—such as Vlaams Belang’s disclaimer stating that its campaign was not affiliated with IKEA—this factor weighs in favour of the speaker’s protection.
Similarly, the “originality” of the parody—which the Belgian referring court suggests as one of the possible balancing factors in this case—should not matter as an independent criterion. Article 10 protects all forms of expression, whether or not they are artistically original. What matters is the expression’s communicative and social contribution, not its creative novelty.
Offensiveness and the Boundaries of Democratic Tolerance
Finally, IKEA’s objection to being associated with a far-right party raises the question of offensiveness. Yet, as the ECtHR held in Handyside v. the United Kingdom (§49), freedom of expression applies not only to ideas that are welcome or neutral, but also to those that “offend, shock or disturb”.
This principle is central to democratic pluralism. Allowing corporations to suppress political or satirical expression merely because it is offensive would undermine the very tolerance Article 10 was designed to protect. Just as states cannot dictate the boundaries of permissible opinion, private economic actors should not be able to use intellectual property rights to do so.
IKEA might attempt to argue that the matter goes beyond mere offensiveness, touching upon expression contrary to the values of a democratic society within the meaning of Article 17 ECHR (abuse of rights), or falling within the Convention’s discrimination provisions in Article 14 and Protocol No. 12. Yet it is doubtful that such an argument could plausibly succeed in this context. A debate on immigration policy—however sharply framed—does not, in itself, amount to racist or hate speech, and the ECtHR’s traditional reluctance to interfere with the Member States’ regulation of migration issues only reinforces this statement (see, e.g., Guide on case-law of the Convention – Immigration, § 2).
The CJEU’s 2014 Deckmyn judgment, addressing the conflict between (this time) copyright protection and freedom of political expression—which, incidentally, also involved the Vlaams Belang party as a defendant—could offer some guidance here. The case concerned the distribution by Vlaams Belang at the City of Ghent’s 2011 New Year reception of a calendar parodying the cover of one of the well-known Belgian Suske en Wiske comics. The parody replaced the original protagonist, who was depicted throwing coins to bystanders, with the Mayor of Ghent, while the bystanders were replaced by people wearing veils and people of colour—an image that the copyright holders (the publisher and the family of the comic’s creator) alleged conveyed a discriminatory message. The CJEU held that parody constitutes a legitimate limitation on copyright but emphasised that it cannot serve to convey racist or discriminatory messages, leaving it, however, to the national court to determine whether the parody at issue was indeed discriminatory or racist (§§29–32). It appears, however, that the national proceedings did not culminate in a judicial determination on the merits.
Similarly, in IKEA v. Vlaams Belang, unless the campaign’s imagery or message crossed the line into hate or discriminatory speech, its provocative character remains within the bounds of Article 10 ECHR protection as part of legitimate political discourse in a democratic society.
Conclusion
The IKEA v. Vlaams Belang case compels the CJEU to reconcile two fundamental EU values: intellectual property protection and freedom of expression. The approach of reading “due cause” through the lens of freedom of expression, as interpreted by the ECtHR, offers a principled and balanced way forward.
While IKEA’s proprietary and reputational interests deserve respect, the campaign at issue represents political and parodic speech at the very core of Article 10 protection (unless, of course, the national court qualifies it as discriminatory or even racist): expression by a political actor on a matter of public concern, conveyed through humour and artistic reference. Denying “due cause” in such circumstances would risk turning economic rights into instruments of ideological control, allowing powerful private actors to dictate the boundaries of democratic discourse.
Admittedly, one might argue—as trademark practitioners likely would—that restricting the use of a brand in this context is not about ideological control but about protecting a company’s autonomy and its freedom not to be associated with political causes it disapproves of. This reasoning echoes elements of the compelled speech doctrine, which argues that freedom of expression also includes the freedom not to speak or to refrain from being forced to convey messages one does not endorse. Yet, while this doctrine is robustly developed in U.S. First Amendment jurisprudence, it remains only marginally recognised in Europe, and in the case-law of the ECtHR in particular. The Convention protects the right to voice even unwelcome or unsettling opinions—even when expressed through the use of well-known trademarks—and private economic power should not serve as a gatekeeper of public discourse.
Recognising freedom of political expression as part of the “due cause” analysis would thus reaffirm that intellectual property rights, like all rights, must operate within the broader constitutional framework of pluralism, tolerance, and open debate that defines the European legal order.
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For a more detailed, in-depth analysis of the relationship between intellectual property and human rights (including the interface between trademark protection and freedom of expression) in the case-law of both the CJEU and the ECtHR, see E. Izyumenko and C. Geiger, Human Rights and Intellectual Property before the European Courts: A Case Commentary on the Court of Justice of the European Union and the European Court of Human Rights (Elgar Commentaries in European Law, Edward Elgar Publishing, forthcoming December 2025), which is already available for pre-order here.
Bio:
Dr. Elena Izyumenko is an Assistant Professor of Intellectual Property Law at the University of Amsterdam’s Institute for Information Law (IViR). Her research focuses on EU copyright and trademark law, with particular emphasis on their implications for the public interest and for human and fundamental rights. Before joining IViR, she worked as a case-processing lawyer at the European Court of Human Rights and as a legal researcher at the Centre for International Intellectual Property Studies (CEIPI) at the University of Strasbourg in France. She is also a Certified Tutor for the Council of Europe’s Programme for Human Rights Education for Legal Professionals and a Senior Member of the Netherlands Network for Human Rights Research.