How to Get Your Money Back from Illegal Online Casinos
Three Landmark E.U. Cases Against Maltese Operators
Three opinions issued by the European Union’s Advocate General in 2025 may decide the fate of twenty thousand lawsuits and hundreds of millions—perhaps billions—of euros owed to gamblers. For years, Maltese online casinos operated illegally in Germany and Austria, ignoring local prohibitions. When courts began issuing mass rulings ordering the return of players’ deposits, Malta passed a law blocking the enforcement of those judgments. Now the European Court of Justice must decide: Can one member state unilaterally block the European system of justice to protect an industry that generates enormous revenue for its treasury?
The Billion-Euro Game: How Malta Became the Paradise of Online Gambling
Over the past decade, Malta has built its position as Europe’s undisputed online-gambling capital. Hundreds of casino and sports-betting operators—from giants like Mr. Green, Bet365, and Lottoland to smaller platforms—have registered companies in Valletta, obtaining licenses from the Malta Gaming Authority. A Maltese license was relatively cheap, supervision was lenient, taxes were competitive, and operators believed that, under the E.U. principle of freedom to provide services, they could offer their games throughout Europe without additional local licenses—licenses that, in many Union states, would have been impossible to obtain in the first place.
The problem was that most member states—particularly Germany, Austria, the Netherlands, and Poland—never agreed with this interpretation. These countries maintained their own restrictive licensing systems for gambling, arguing that it’s a sensitive area requiring strict regulation to protect consumers from addiction, fraud, and money laundering. From their perspective, Maltese operators were acting illegally, ignoring national prohibitions and offering games without the required concessions.
For millions of European players, this legislative war was invisible. They saw professional-looking Web sites in their own languages, with television advertisements and sponsorships of their favorite sports teams. They opened accounts, deposited money, played. Only when they lost significant sums and sought legal advice did they learn the shocking truth: they had been participating in activity prohibited by their country’s law. And that’s when the real problems began—but also when the chance to get their money back appeared.
In recent years, German and Austrian courts have begun issuing mass rulings that, because operators were acting without local licenses, gambling contracts were void and players could demand the return of their lost money. Thousands of consumers won cases, obtaining enforceable judgments awarding hundreds of millions of euros from Maltese companies. But when it came to enforcement, the operators simply didn’t pay. In June, 2023, Malta responded in an unprecedented way—it passed a law (Bill No. 55) that introduced Article 56A to the Gaming Act, effectively blocking the execution of foreign judgments in Malta. Operators’ assets in bank accounts in Valletta became untouchable, inaccessible to judicial enforcement pursued by aggrieved consumers with judgments from other Union states.
It was this crisis—thousands of aggrieved consumers with enforceable judgments that they couldn’t collect—that led to three landmark cases before the European Court of Justice. In all three, the Advocate General, Nicholas Emiliou, presented opinions that may force Malta to capitulate and open the way for players across Europe to recover billions of euros.
Three Cases That Could Change Everything
The first case, C-440/23, involves an interesting procedural strategy by one aggrieved player and his lawyer. Between June, 2019, and July, 2021, a consumer from Erfurt, Germany, played on the Lottoland.com platform, which offered “secondary lotteries”—bets on the results of drawings organized by official state lotteries. He lost significant sums. The Maltese companies operating Lottoland—European Lotto and Betting Ltd. and Deutsche Lotto- und Sportwetten Ltd.—held an M.G.A. license but didn’t have a German one, which, under German law, they needed. The player hired a lawyer who, in November, 2022, bought out his claim and made a provocative decision: instead of suing in Germany, he filed suit directly in a Maltese court in January, 2023.
Rather than winning in Germany and then struggling with enforcement in Malta—where Article 56A, blocking the execution of foreign judgments, was just taking effect—the lawyer struck at the heart of the system. He forced the Maltese court to confront a fundamental question: Do you have the right to apply German law, declare the contract void, and order a refund?
The defendant companies responded with two defensive strategies. First: a Maltese court has no jurisdiction to examine whether German gambling regulations comply with Union law—that exceeds the competence of one state’s courts regarding another state’s law. Second: even if it had such jurisdiction, the claim constitutes an abuse of rights—the player voluntarily participated in the games, consciously took risks, and is now trying to exploit a technical violation of law to avoid the consequences of his own decisions.
The second case, C-198/24, tells the classic story of hundreds of similar instances. A consumer from Vienna lost sixty-two thousand eight hundred and seventy-eight euros on the Mr. Green Limited platform between January, 2017, and April, 2019. The company had a Maltese license but no Austrian license. The player won his case in Austrian courts, obtaining an enforceable judgment in April, 2022, awarding the full amount. Mr. Green paid not a cent. When the player tried to enforce the judgment, it turned out that Malta had just adopted Bill No. 55, blocking enforcement. So the player filed for a European account-preservation order (E.A.P.O.), trying to freeze Mr. Green’s assets in other E.U. countries before the company could hide them all in Malta.
The third case, C-77/24, adds a new dimension to the problem. Between November, 2019, and April, 2020, a consumer from Vienna lost eighteen thousand five hundred and forty-seven euros and sixty-seven cents on the Drückglück.com platform, operated by the Maltese company Titanium Brace Marketing Limited. All of Titanium’s equipment and servers were in Malta, and its directors resided there as well. This company, too, had a Maltese license but no Austrian one. When Titanium went bankrupt, the player faced a dilemma: there’s no point in suing an insolvent company. Instead, he sued its former directors personally, arguing that, as managing persons, they bore civil liability for offering illegal games in Austria in violation of the Austrian gambling act, which is a “protective statute” (Schutzgesetze) under Paragraphs 1301 and 1311 of the Austrian civil code.
This case raised fundamental questions that go beyond classic disputes between players and gambling companies. First: Does such a claim even fall within the scope of the Rome II Regulation on the law applicable to non-contractual obligations, or is it excluded as an “obligation arising from company law”? Second: If it does fall within the scope, which law applies—Austrian or Maltese? Where did the “damage” occur, under Article 4(1) of the Rome II Regulation, when a player from Austria participated via the Internet in games offered by a Maltese company with Maltese servers?
The Great Maltese Wall: When an Enforceable Judgment Becomes Worthless Paper
To understand why thousands of players with enforceable judgments can’t get their money back, one must look at Bill No. 55—the Maltese law that, in June, 2023, introduced a new Article 56A to the Gaming Act. This short but highly significant provision states that Maltese courts will refuse to recognize and execute foreign rulings if they “are in conflict with or undermine the legality of providing gaming services in or from Malta.” In practice, this means that even enforceable judgments from German, Austrian, or Dutch courts—which determine that Maltese operators’ activity was illegal in their countries and order the return of money to players—cannot be executed in Malta.
This unprecedented move provoked a wave of controversy. The European Commission, in June, 2024, initiated formal infringement proceedings against Malta, arguing that Article 56A “undermines mutual trust in the administration of justice,” which constitutes the foundation of the European Union. But for thousands of consumers all these complicated legal considerations come down to one issue: they have enforceable court judgments but can’t enforce them. Their money remains in the hands of companies that German and Austrian courts have declared to be operating illegally.
The Scale of the Phenomenon: Twenty Thousand Cases and Big Money
These three cases before the Court are not isolated incidents. They’re the tip of an enormous iceberg. In Germany alone, more than twenty thousand active lawsuits are currently under way in which consumers are demanding the return of money lost to operators with Maltese licenses. In Austria, the number reaches several thousand. The total amounts of claims exceed hundreds of millions, if not billions, of euros.
An entire litigation-funding industry has emerged. Firms like AdvoFin and Allright.de offer players financing for proceedings in exchange for a commission on recovered amounts. According to AdvoFin’s data, the firm has already won more than seventy-five million euros in Austrian settlements and judgments. According to a Financial Times report from March, 2023, about thirty-four million euros in payouts have been withheld by casino operators despite court rulings, exceeding the two-week deadline specified by the court. Mr. Green is on the list of principal “debtors,” with approximately twelve and a half million euros in non-complied judgments.
This massive wave of litigation has deep causes. For years, Maltese operators aggressively promoted their services in German and Austrian markets, despite lacking local licenses. They advertised in German, sponsored German sports teams, offered payments in euros and methods popular in German-speaking countries. From a consumer’s perspective, nothing suggested illegality—everything looked professional and credible. Only when they lost significant amounts and sought legal advice did they learn that they had been participating in prohibited activity.
The jurisprudence of German and Austrian courts has become very favorable to consumers in recent years. These courts consistently reject operators’ arguments that German online-gambling bans are disproportionate and violate Union law. They recognize that these restrictions serve justified goals of protecting consumers from addiction, fraud, and money laundering. As a result, refund lawsuits are overwhelmingly successful.
Maltese operators, however, show extraordinary determination in avoiding payment of awarded amounts. Their defensive strategy has several dimensions: challenging the jurisdiction of German and Austrian courts, arguing the incompatibility of German regulations with E.U. law, invoking the Maltese license as sufficient legitimacy to operate throughout the E.U., and, finally—when all else fails—using the protective shield of Article 56A to block enforcement of judgments in Malta.
Regulatory Capture: When the Regulator Serves the Industry, Not Consumers
To understand why Malta so decisively defends its gambling operators, even at the cost of conflict with the European Commission, one must look at the significance of the gambling industry to the Maltese economy. In 2023, the i-gaming sector generated one billion three hundred and forty million euros in gross value added (G.V.A.), representing approximately six and seven-tenths per cent of direct contribution to Maltese G.D.P. (taking into account indirect effects, this amounted to about seven per cent of G.V.A.). It directly employed fourteen thousand three hundred and fifty-seven people, and with all indirect effects about sixteen thousand to eighteen thousand people—in a country of just over half a million inhabitants, this is indeed a significant number. In 2023, the Malta Gaming Authority collected a total of eighty million six hundred thousand euros in fees (compliance contribution, license fees, levies) from licensed operators.
This economic dependence, however, creates conditions for a phenomenon called regulatory capture—the appropriation of control over a regulator by the industry it’s supposed to supervise. In an extensive report published by investigative journalists at Investigate Europe in March, 2025, numerous pieces of evidence were cited that the Malta Gaming Authority actually serves the interests of operators, not consumer protection. Enforcement is minimal: in 2024, the M.G.A. issued only thirty-five warnings and twenty-five financial penalties totalling three hundred and six thousand two hundred and fifty euros for three hundred and fifteen licensed operators. The highest fine in M.G.A. history was two million three hundred and forty thousand euros (imposed in 2020 on Blackrock Media Limited for operating without a license). By comparison, Britain’s Gambling Commission imposed a fine of nineteen million two hundred thousand pounds on William Hill in March, 2023, for failure to comply with anti-money-laundering regulations and consumer protection.
Worse still are the corruption connections. The former C.E.O. of the Malta Gaming Authority, Heathcliff Farrugia, was convicted in May, 2024, of passing confidential business information to Yorgen Fenech—owner of Portomaso Casino and Tumas Group, who is the main suspect in ordering the murder of investigative journalist Daphne Caruana Galizia in 2017. Specifically, Farrugia disclosed to Fenech information about future compliance inspections and promised to delay the publication of compliance-review reports. Galizia had published investigations into corruption in Malta’s gambling industry and its connections to organized crime.
In 2021, Italian anti-Mafia prosecutors, as part of Operation Double Game, revealed ties to the Italian Mafia: the RaiseBet24.com site, which was linked to Malta (though it didn’t hold an M.G.A. license), was being used to launder money for the Sicilian Cosa Nostra. The investigation involved three hundred and thirty-six people, twenty-three suspects were arrested, and confiscated amounts were estimated at about sixty-two million euros in illegal bets.
This combination of economic dependence, weak enforcement, corruption scandals, and structural conflicts of interest creates a picture of a system that actually serves to protect the industry, not consumers. Bill 55 and Article 56A of the Gaming Act are the logical culmination of this process: when foreign courts began issuing mass rulings against Maltese operators, the Maltese legislature responded with a legislative shield making enforcement of those judgments impossible. Economic interest outweighed the principles of rule of law and mutual trust.
The Advocate General’s Groundbreaking Opinions: Malta Cannot Hide
The opinions of Advocate General Emiliou in all three cases share one message, expressed in cautious, legalistic language but crystalline in its essence: Malta cannot unilaterally exclude itself from the European system of justice, even if doing so protects its most profitable industry.
In case C-440/23 (FB v. Lottoland), the Advocate General addressed two key objections from the Maltese companies. The first concerned jurisdiction: Does a Maltese court even have the right to examine the compatibility of German gambling regulations with Union law? Advocate General Emiliou decisively rejected this argument. He explained that when a Maltese court is obliged to apply German law based on Union conflict-of-laws rules (the Rome I Regulation), it also has an obligation to examine whether that law is compatible with Union law. It cannot blindly apply law that conflicts with fundamental Treaty freedoms. Maltese courts must therefore assess whether German gambling regulation is compatible with Article 56 of the T.F.E.U. on freedom to provide services.
The Advocate General stipulated, however, that Maltese courts should exercise restraint. Germany has broad discretion in regulating gambling—an area in which member states have very different approaches due to moral, religious, and cultural differences. Therefore, a Maltese court should refrain from applying German law only when its incompatibility with E.U. law is obvious. In case of doubt, it should refer the matter to the Court with a preliminary question.
The second objection concerned abuse of rights: Isn’t a player who voluntarily participated in games, consciously took risks, and is now trying to recover stakes by invoking a technical violation of law abusing his rights? Advocate General Emiliou found this argument misguided. He explained that the principle prohibiting abuse of Union law applies only when a party invokes E.U. law in an abusive manner. Meanwhile, the player derives his claim from national law—German provisions on invalidity of contracts and unjust enrichment, not from E.U. law. What’s more, it’s actually the operator—not the player—who invokes E.U. law (Article 56 T.F.E.U. on freedom to provide services) as a defense. If anyone should be accused of abusing Union law, it’s the operator, who for years knowingly violated German law and is now trying to hide behind the shield of fundamental Treaty freedoms.
In case C-198/24 (TQ v. Mr. Green), the Advocate General addressed the question: Can Article 56A of the Maltese Gaming Act, which blocks enforcement of foreign judgments in Malta, justify issuing a European account-preservation order? The player, who won his case in Austrian courts, couldn’t execute the judgment in Malta precisely because of Article 56A. So he filed for an E.A.P.O.—a European order allowing him to “freeze” the debtor’s bank accounts throughout the E.U. The Austrian court had to assess whether the condition of periculum in mora was met—whether there’s a real risk that, without such an order, later pursuit of the claim would be impossible or significantly impeded.
Mr. Green argued that no such risk existed—the company wasn’t taking actions aimed at hiding assets. Advocate General Emiliou disagreed. He explained that Article 56A creates an objective obstacle to enforcing the judgment in Malta. Since Malta makes it impossible to execute the judgment on its territory, it’s rational to assume that the operator will seek to transfer all its assets precisely there—where they’re protected from enforcement. This isn’t a question of the operator’s subjective intent to defraud the creditor. It’s an objective incentive created by Maltese law. Under these circumstances, there’s a “real risk” that the operator’s assets will become inaccessible, justifying issuance of an E.A.P.O.
The Advocate General added a warning that sounded like a cold shower for the Maltese industry: by adopting Article 56A, Malta actually increased—not decreased—the legal risk for its operators. It was meant to protect them from enforcement of judgments in Malta, but it ended up facilitating the issuance of preservation orders on their assets throughout the rest of the European Union. A paradox of shortsighted policy.
In case C-77/24 (Wunner), the Advocate General had to resolve two fundamental issues concerning the personal liability of directors of Maltese gambling companies. First: Does such a claim even fall within the scope of the Rome II Regulation, or is it excluded as an “obligation arising from company law”? Second: If it does, which law applies—Austrian or Maltese?
Advocate General Emiliou responded decisively: directors’ liability for offering illegal gambling games doesn’t arise from “company law” but from violation of a prohibition imposed by law independently of their appointment—the prohibition on publicly offering games of chance in Austria without a concession. Such a prohibition isn’t related to day-to-day management or functioning of the company. It’s imposed for other reasons, especially protection of consumer interests. Therefore, such a “non-contractual obligation” falls within the scope of the Rome II Regulation, and the law applicable to it should be determined by the rules established therein.
As for applicable law, the Advocate General explained that “damage,” within the meaning of Article 4(1) of the Rome II Regulation—which designates as applicable law the law of the state in which the damage occurs—occurred in the place where the consumer actually participated in illegal gambling. It doesn’t matter where Titanium’s servers were located (in Malta), or where players’ funds were kept (a bank account in Malta), or from where the player made transfers. What matters is that the Maltese company directed its activity to Austria—the Web site had a German name (www.drueckglueck.com), used the German language, was advertised in Austria. Under these circumstances, one should adopt the fiction that the games took place in Austria, as the country from which the player placed bets, having his habitual residence there.
This ruling has fundamental significance: Austrian law is applicable to assessing directors’ liability. A Maltese company conducting gambling games that directs its activity to a specific member state can reasonably expect that law of that state will apply to torts related to that activity. This fulfills the goal of legal certainty and predictability that the Rome II Regulation seeks to achieve.
What Can an Aggrieved Consumer Do? Legal Paths and Their Limitations
For a consumer who has lost significant sums to an operator with a Maltese license, the situation is complex and full of pitfalls. There’s no simple, guaranteed path to recovering money. There are, however, various strategies, each with its advantages and disadvantages.
The most common and—so far—most effective path is a lawsuit in the home court (German, Austrian, and who knows—perhaps Polish as well). The consumer files suit in the court of his place of residence, using consumer-protection provisions from the Brussels I bis Regulation, which give consumers the right to sue entrepreneurs in their own local courts. The law applicable to the contract will be the law of the consumer’s state, provided the operator “directed its activity” to that state—an easy requirement to meet: advertisements in the local language, local payment methods, local currency, or sponsorship of local sporting events are sufficient proof.
The problem appears at the enforcement stage. A Maltese operator can simply ignore the judgment. Theoretically, the consumer can enforce the judgment in Malta, using judgment-recognition mechanisms. Practically, however, Article 56A of the Gaming Act erects a barrier difficult to breach. Maltese first-instance courts consistently refuse to execute such judgments, invoking conflict with Maltese public policy. The possibility of enforcement in other E.U. states where the operator may have assets remains, but this requires additional proceedings, additional costs, and often ends in failure because operators effectively transfer their main assets to Malta.
The second strategy is a European account-preservation order (E.A.P.O.). A consumer who has already obtained an enforceable judgment can apply to his country’s court for issuance of a European preservation order. As Advocate General Emiliou indicated in case C-198/24, the very existence of Article 56A of the Gaming Act may be grounds justifying the “urgent need” for such a measure. Since Malta makes enforcement of judgments on its territory impossible, it’s rational to assume that the operator will accumulate all its assets precisely there, avoiding jurisdictions where judgments can be executed.
After the order is issued by the national court, it’s automatically enforceable in the member state where the operator’s bank accounts are located—for example, in Ireland, Cyprus, or Luxembourg. The bank receives an order to freeze a specified amount. The operator isn’t informed about this before the order is executed—the element of surprise is crucial to the effectiveness of this measure.
The problem is that an E.A.P.O. is a securing measure, not an enforcement measure. It freezes assets but doesn’t automatically transfer them to the consumer. Ultimately, the consumer must enforce the judgment in the normal manner. Moreover, operators quickly learn to circumvent such orders—they keep funds in corporate structures outside accounts directly assigned to the company licensed by the M.G.A., use intermediary entities in payment processing, employ cryptocurrencies.
The third, most avant-garde strategy is a lawsuit in Malta with a challenge to Article 56A—exactly as FB did in case C-440/23. Instead of obtaining a judgment in his country and trying to execute it in Malta, the consumer files suit directly in a Maltese court. It’s a paradoxical move—Malta is the most unfriendly forum for such claims. But it has its legal logic.
Under the Brussels I bis Regulation, courts of the member state where the defendant has its seat have general jurisdiction. Under the Rome I Regulation, the law applicable to a consumer contract is the law of the consumer’s place of residence. A Maltese court must therefore apply German or Austrian law, including the prohibition on Internet gambling without a license and provisions on invalidity of contracts. Theoretically, a Maltese court should rule the same as a German court—the contract is void, the operator must return the money. Practically, however, Maltese courts show enormous reluctance to rule against “their” operators.
But this very path creates an opportunity to fundamentally challenge the entire system. As Advocate General Emiliou explained in case C-440/23, Maltese courts have not only the right but the obligation to examine the compatibility of German law with Union law, if necessary to resolve the case. Crucially, a judgment by a Maltese court would be enforceable in Malta without obstacles arising from Article 56A of the Gaming Act. This provision blocks recognition and execution of foreign judgments but doesn’t apply to judgments of Maltese courts. Paradoxically, then, a consumer may have a better chance of actually recovering money by suing in Malta than by winning in Germany and trying to enforce the judgment in Malta.
Of course, this strategy has enormous drawbacks. It requires engaging a Maltese lawyer, conducting proceedings in a foreign legal system and language, bearing significantly higher costs. There’s no guarantee of success—existing precedents are rather unfavorable. But for those who want to create a precedent, it’s an option worth considering, especially in the context of the Advocate General’s opinion, which clearly indicates to Maltese courts how they should proceed.
Abuse of Rights or Just Claim? The Ethical Dilemma of the Case
Maltese operators and the Maltese government consistently raise an argument that, at first glance, sounds convincing: consumers’ claims for return of lost money constitute an abuse of rights. The player voluntarily participated in games, was aware of the risk, enjoyed winnings (if any), and now, having lost, is trying to recover stakes by invoking a technical violation of law. This isn’t good-faith conduct—it’s an attempt to exploit a legal loophole to avoid consequences of one’s own decisions.
This argument has a certain moral force. Indeed, in many cases players weren’t victims in the traditional sense. They actively sought out gambling platforms, registering knowingly, often repeatedly depositing and withdrawing funds. Some won for a time before ultimately suffering a net loss. Should such people be able to invoke the illegality of activity in which they themselves voluntarily participated?
Advocate General Emiliou considered this objection and rejected it decisively. He explained that the principle prohibiting abuse of Union law applies only when a party invokes E.U. law in an abusive manner. Meanwhile, the consumer derives his claim from national law—German or Austrian provisions on invalidity of contracts and unjust enrichment, not from E.U. law. The fact that he benefits from Union procedural rules doesn’t change the material character of the claim.
What’s more, it’s the operator, not the consumer, who invokes E.U. law (Article 56 T.F.E.U.—freedom to provide services) as a defense against the claim. If anyone should be accused of abusing Union law, it’s the operator, who for years knowingly violated German or Austrian law and is now trying to hide behind the shield of fundamental Treaty freedoms.
There is, however, a deeper ethical question: Should a consumer who actively and knowingly participated in illegal gambling be morally entitled to demand a refund? German law provides an answer to this in the form of Paragraph 817 of the B.G.B., which refuses return of performance to a person who knowingly committed a crime. The problem is that German courts usually refuse to apply this provision, recognizing that players were misled by operators regarding the legality of games—Web sites looked professional, had Maltese licenses, used the German language, and suggested the legality of operations. Under such circumstances, it’s difficult to speak of “knowingly” committing a crime by the consumer.
This may be the most satisfying answer to the ethical dilemma of the case: the asymmetry of information and power between a professional operator and a consumer is so great that even if the consumer formally “knew” about the risk, the operator knowingly created an appearance of legality, investing millions in marketing, sponsorship, and building a credible image. In such an arrangement, responsibility rests primarily with the operator, not the consumer.
What Next? Three Possible Scenarios
Scenario One: Malta Wins
If the Court ruled that Article 56A of the Gaming Act doesn’t violate Union law, the consequences for consumers would be catastrophic. Article 56A would remain in force, making enforcement of judgments in Malta impossible. Operators would gain de-facto immunity—they could keep all assets in Maltese accounts, knowing they’re safe there from any enforcement of foreign judgments. Consumers would have to search for assets in other member states, but operators have already learned this and effectively structure their finances so that assets remain in Malta or in even more exotic jurisdictions. Enforceable judgments from German and Austrian courts would become worthless paper—a moral victory without a real chance of recovering money.
This scenario would likely trigger a domino effect. Other member states, seeing that Malta successfully protects its industry from enforcement of judgments, might introduce similar provisions in their jurisdictions. Erosion of mutual trust and recognition of judgments—the foundation of the European judicial area—would advance, leading to the legal fragmentation of the E.U.
It must be said clearly, however: this scenario is highly improbable. Advocate General Emiliou’s opinions in all three cases are unequivocal and well grounded in Union law. The Court historically follows the Advocate General’s opinions in most cases. Moreover, the European Commission in June, 2024, initiated formal infringement proceedings against Malta, arguing that Article 56A “undermines mutual trust in the administration of justice.” It would be extremely surprising if the Court ignored such a clear position from both the Advocate General and the Commission.
Scenario Two: Consumers Win
This is the most likely outcome. The Court rules that Article 56A of the Gaming Act violates the principle of mutual trust between member states and the mechanisms for recognition and execution of judgments established in the Brussels I bis Regulation. Malta receives an order to repeal this provision within a specified period, probably six to twelve months. After that period, enforceable German and Austrian judgments become fully enforceable in Malta without any obstacles.
The consequences for operators would be immediate and dramatic. Within weeks of the Court’s ruling becoming final, Malta would be flooded with hundreds, if not thousands, of applications for enforcement of judgments. Maltese courts and bailiffs—who for years didn’t have to deal with such cases—would suddenly face an avalanche of enforcement proceedings. Operators’ bank accounts would begin to be massively seized. The amounts would be gigantic: AdvoFin alone, one of the litigation-funding firms, has about thirty-four million euros to enforce in Austria alone. In total, across Europe, it could involve five hundred million to a billion euros in already enforceable judgments awaiting enforcement.
Many smaller operators wouldn’t survive such a blow. They would go bankrupt within months, if not weeks. Larger companies, especially those listed on stock exchanges (like Lottoland or Tipico), would face a serious liquidity crisis. Their valuations would plummet. Some would likely try to negotiate collective settlements.
The remaining entities would seek escape. Some might try to move their headquarters to Curaçao, Gibraltar (which after Brexit is no longer bound by the Brussels I bis Regulation), or Cyprus—though Cyprus, as an E.U. member state, would offer only limited protection. Others might undertake restructuring, transferring assets to subsidiaries in exotic jurisdictions, leaving in Malta only asset-less “shells.”
From consumers’ perspective, this would be a historic breakthrough. After years of frustration, during which they held enforceable judgments but couldn’t enforce them, they would finally receive a real chance to recover their money. Litigation-funding firms would see return on investment, which would additionally fuel the market—more players would decide to pursue their rights, knowing that enforcement is possible.
In the long term, this scenario would mean a fundamental change in the business model of the online-gambling industry in Europe. Operators would have to take local licensing requirements seriously. A Maltese license alone would no longer suffice—they would have to actually obtain concessions in each state where they offer services, or give up those markets entirely. Those operators who already comply with the law today—obtaining German, Polish, Dutch licenses—would gain an enormous competitive advantage. “Cowboys” operating only with a Maltese license would have to either adapt or disappear from the market.
Malta as a gambling hub in Europe would lose much of its attractiveness. While it would still offer competitive taxes and a friendly regulatory environment, the key “advantage”—immunity from enforcement of foreign judgments—would disappear. The number of new licenses would probably decline, and some existing operators might move elsewhere.
Scenario Three: Procedural Compromise
There’s also a middle variant, though it seems least likely from the perspective of the Court’s existing practice. In this scenario, the Court rules that Article 56A in its current form does indeed violate Union law but simultaneously recognizes Malta’s special situation—a small state whose economy depends twelve per cent on the gambling industry. Instead of immediate invalidation of the provision, the Court could apply so-called temporal limitation of the ruling’s effects, giving Malta a longer transitional period (for example, eighteen to twenty-four months) to adapt the system.
During this time, Malta would have to introduce comprehensive reforms: strengthen supervision by the Malta Gaming Authority, introduce effective enforcement, establish a mechanism for coöperation with courts of other member states regarding enforcement of judgments, possibly create a compensation fund for players. Only after expiration of the transitional period and verification of the reforms’ effectiveness would Article 56A be finally repealed.
This scenario would have certain advantages. Operators would receive time to put their affairs in order, pay off the most important obligations, possibly insure against risk. Malta could gradually adapt its economy, avoiding sudden shock. Consumers would begin recovering money gradually but in a predictable manner—first through settlement mechanisms and a compensation fund, later through normal enforcement.
The problem is that the Court rarely applies such compromise solutions in cases concerning fundamental Union principles, such as mutual trust and execution of judgments. It usually confines itself to declaring a provision’s incompatibility with E.U. law, leaving the member state freedom to choose the method of adaptation. Temporal limitation of a ruling’s effects is reserved for exceptional situations where immediate application of the judgment could cause disproportionately serious systemic consequences.
Moreover, such a scenario carries political risk. It could be read as a reward for Malta for breaking the law—a signal that one can first violate fundamental E.U. principles to protect national economic interests and then negotiate a “soft landing.” This would create a dangerous precedent for other member states in other areas. Therefore, most observers expect that if the Court rules against Malta, it will do so in an unequivocal and categorical manner, without temporal compromises.
Lessons for the Future: What This Saga Tells Us About the European Union
The story of Maltese gambling licenses and mass consumer disputes is a case study of fundamental tensions in the European Union’s construction. On one hand, we have the principle of freedom to provide services—the idea that an entrepreneur legally operating in one member state can offer services throughout the E.U. without additional barriers. On the other hand, we have the sovereignty of member states in sensitive areas such as gambling, where cultural, moral, and social differences between countries are enormous.
For years, Malta has tried to transform its Maltese license into a James Bond-style “license to kill,” legitimizing throughout the E.U. activity that’s morally and legally controversial. Germany, Austria, and other states categorically reject this interpretation, arguing that gambling is an area in which each state has the right to apply its own restrictive regulations arising from its specific social circumstances. The European Court of Justice has never resolved this fundamental question definitively and probably never will—because it’s essentially a political question, not a legal one.
Each country has a different approach to gambling: Great Britain conducts liberal but strictly supervised regulation; France has a system of state monopolies with limited exceptions; Germany long had a prohibition with exceptions; Poland created a licensed domestic market; Scandinavian countries have their own, varied models. This diversity is irreconcilable with the idea of one Maltese “passport” valid everywhere. The solution could be full harmonization of gambling regulations at the E.U. level—but that’s politically unrealistic and probably undesirable.
Meanwhile, in this regulatory gray zone, consumers suffer. They’re bombarded with advertisements for professional-looking platforms that suggest legality and credibility. They play, they lose, and then learn that they participated in activity illegal under their country’s law. They try to recover money through court—and they win, but can’t enforce judgments because the operator hid behind the Maltese legislative shield.
This is not a sustainable situation. Cases C-440/23, C-198/24, and C-77/24, and Advocate General Emiliou’s opinions may be a turning point. For the first time, at the highest level of Union jurisdiction, someone has said clearly: Malta cannot unilaterally block execution of judgments from other member states, even if this protects its strategic economic sector. Mutual trust and rule of law are more important than the economic interest of an individual country.
If the Court follows these opinions—and everything suggests it will—this will mean, for thousands of European consumers, a real chance at justice. For Malta, it will be a painful but necessary lesson about the limits of regulatory capture. And for the European Union, it will be a reaffirmation of a fundamental principle: we are a community of law, where court judgments are respected across borders, regardless of how inconvenient they may be for local economic interests.
The question is only how long all this will take—and how many consumers will, in the meantime, join the army of holders of worthless judgments against invincible Maltese gambling behemoths.
Founder and Managing Partner of Skarbiec Law Firm, recognized by Dziennik Gazeta Prawna as one of the best tax advisory firms in Poland (2023, 2024). Legal advisor with 19 years of experience, serving Forbes-listed entrepreneurs and innovative start-ups. One of the most frequently quoted experts on commercial and tax law in the Polish media, regularly publishing in Rzeczpospolita, Gazeta Wyborcza, and Dziennik Gazeta Prawna. Author of the publication “AI Decoding Satoshi Nakamoto. Artificial Intelligence on the Trail of Bitcoin’s Creator” and co-author of the award-winning book “Bezpieczeństwo współczesnej firmy” (Security of a Modern Company). LinkedIn profile: 18 500 followers, 4 million views per year. Awards: 4-time winner of the European Medal, Golden Statuette of the Polish Business Leader, title of “International Tax Planning Law Firm of the Year in Poland.” He specializes in strategic legal consulting, tax planning, and crisis management for business.
