2008-12-07
British government gets lucky with Chagos case
from the Mauritius Times
The legal profession in Britain (and countries like Mauritius which remains within its sphere of influence due to colonial ties) is extremely hierarchical as anyone who has experience of the system will know.
Some people find the rituals of the courtroom which dramatize the legal tradition very off-putting. I know I do. But I remind myself that it doesn't matter if people are required to dress up in strange clothes and wigs and sit in higher places or on bigger chairs if the final outcome is a just one.
In any case, the legal system is widely perceived to benefit injured or innocent parties. Judgements which are found wanting in the lower courts or where there is a need for clarification can be taken to higher ones. The idea is that the prolonged scrutiny involved in a case which ascends the legal ladder will deliver a fair and reliable judgement.
That's the theory. Alas, it doesn't always work out like that in practice.
Since 2000, seven senior British judges unanimously found in favour of the Chagos islanders�right of return to their homeland and variously found the UK government's case "irrational", "repugnant", "unlawful" and "an abuse of power".
In the case heard before the Court of Appeal in 2007, the government was refused permission to appeal but was still able to directly petition the House of Lords even though the judges stated that the government would bear all further legal costs irrespective of the outcome. It was a clear signal of the legal displeasure of this branch of the UK judiciary towards the executive.
I remember talking to a barrister friend of mine who works in the Ministry of Justice in London about the government's strategy at the time the petition was announced last year. "Surely, the government doesn't think it can win this time," I said. "It's had such a mauling in the lower courts wouldn't it be better to accept defeat and try and make the best of it?" "It's always worth the government going to the House of Lords," he smiled. "You never know what can happen. The government might get lucky."
My friend was right -- the government did get lucky. On October 22, by a majority verdict of 3 to 2 the law lords found against the right of return of the Chagos islanders who had been forced out of their homeland by the British between 1968 and 1973 to make way for the US military base on Diego Garcia.
I don't think anyone involved on the islanders�side expected this result. My guess is that even the people at the Foreign & Commonwealth Office including the Foreign Secretary, David Miliband, were surprised at the outcome.
It has led to a flurry of legal commentary. A few days ago academic expert, Marcel Berlins, writing in The Guardian argued that the law lords should have their workload cut and only hear appeals "raising points of law of general public importance". In cases of constitutional significance like the one concerning the Chagos islanders it would be much better if all the twelve law lords were present, he suggested.
The point is that the selection of only five law lords to hear a case increases the chance of an unfair verdict. Another panel of five could quite easily come up with a different judgement.
I suppose the existing arrangements wouldn't matter so much if there were a further right of redress in the UK but the House of Lords is the highest court in the land.
Of course, the British law lords might resist any attempt to reform their organisation believing that because of their legal seniority and accumulated wisdom they are impartial and objective. This is certainly the view of South African-born Lord Hoffmann, the second most senior law lord, whose judgement was so critical in finding against the Chagos islanders�right of return.
In 1998 a law lords�ruling concerning the immunity from prosecution of the former Chilean dictator General Pinochet had to be set aside because Lord Hoffmann, one of those involved in the case, had not declared that he had worked as an unpaid director of Amnesty International Charity Ltd nor that his wife worked for the organisation. Afterwards, he proclaimed: "The fact is I'm not biased. I am a lawyer. I do things as a judge. The fact that my wife works as a secretary for Amnesty International is, as far as I'm concerned, neither here nor there."
Neither here nor there, Lord Hoffmann? That's absurd. The simple fact is that we are all biased and no amount of learning -- legal or otherwise -- can undo it.
We should, therefore, recognise this and create the necessary institutional arrangements which serve to control and minimise the undesirable consequences of individual (and group) prejudice which can be found even among those with the finest legal minds.
An increase in the number of law lords hearing major cases wouldn't eliminate bias altogether but it would undoubtedly produce fairer verdicts. Such a reform would ensure that neither citizens nor governments would be obliged to rely on their luck. And it's a fair bet that the Chagos islanders would not now be obliged to take their case to the European Court of Human Rights in Strasbourg.
2008-12-06
Robert Fisk’s World: Whenever I'm in Tajikistan, my mobile phone says I'm in Dubai
Forgetting the whole of Afghanistan, part of Pakistan – or a hunk of Iran, depending on your flight path – my mobile actually believed that I was among the gleaming towers of Dubai when I was in one of Stalin's poorest Muslim former republics. It reminded me of how, back in the mid-1970s, a foreign editor on The Times used to keep a spinning globe on his desk as a sign of his global importance and would place the tip of his thumb on the scene of a catastrophe in order to dispatch his nearest reporter to the location. Thus he once sent my predecessor in Lebanon by road to a northern Turkish earthquake on the grounds that – despite a Syrian border crossing for which a visa took a week to negotiate – Beirut was only half a thumb from Trabzon. Ping. Welcome to Turkey.
I suspect this is pretty much how the Bush administration regarded Muslim south-west Asia. One bunch of Muslims in Dushanbe was pretty much the same as another in Kabul or the Emirates. After all, Dushanbe boasts a French air force squadron flying close air support to the Brits in Afghanistan's Helmand province while Dubai welcomes the Royal Navy, the French air force and successive US secretaries of state. Those pesky Muslims are just about covered by a finger and thumb. Why bother with the detail?
An oddly similar parallel has emerged since the election of Obama. During the campaign, President Ahmadinejad of Iran announced that the "Israeli regime" would be destroyed. That's actually what he said in Farsi – not "Israel", though the distinction might appear to be splitting hairs. Immediately, Mrs Hillary Clinton announced that if Tehran attacked Israel, she would "flatten Iran". And now she is to be secretary of state, the Iranians are understandably a little bit angry. Was the new pussycat in the State Department going to take over from the previous pussycat by threatening violence against Iran when Obama supposedly wants "dialogue"?
And a kind of inverted hypocrisy immediately followed. Mrs Clinton, American "officials" let on, should not be taken too seriously because this was an election campaign. Indeed, Obama – putting distance between the mutual recriminations of both Democrat candidates a few months ago – this week blithely dismissed their own election speeches. What he meant was that they both told lies to get votes. Yet the crackpot president of Iran's threat was still to be taken with the greatest seriousness. Not difficult to get the message, is it? The future secretary of state should not be believed when she threatens Iran – but Iran must be taken seriously when it threatens Israel.
I guess we ordinary folk are going to go on sipping at the same creepy narrative under Obama's regime. Take the easy way we have already accepted the story of the "highly disciplined", "professional" and "military" way in which Mumbai's T-shirted butchers slaughtered their way through hotels and railway station last week. Were they from Pakistan's Kashmir or trained in the camps of Afghanistan? Well, I wonder. I recall how, when Algeria's obscene civil war began between Pouvoir and "Islamists" in the early 1980, we were regaled by the authorities with stories of "terrorists wearing police uniforms" cutting the throats of civilians. This went on for months before Dumbo Fisk realised – and later confirmed by interviewing members of the Algerian security forces – that the men in police uniforms were policemen. Ergo Baghdad where journalists regaled the world with stories of attacks on civilians and foreigners by men "wearing police uniforms". Since there were no ready-to-wear police uniforms in Bakuba warehouses, they were policemen working for the insurgents.
And I rather suspect that the "highly disciplined" and "professional" killers of Mumbai come from the same stable. The Pakistani Inter Service Intelligence? Quite possibly. The Pakistani army – many of whose men have been mysteriously captured and equally mysteriously vanished in the tribal territories? Maybe. Or the Indian security services, whose inter-religious makeup is never discussed, but against whom there is substantial evidence of massacres in Kashmir? These days, all such acts of cruelty should be referred to by what the police used to call an '"open mind".
Just look how we've forgotten the CIA's secret prisons. In Afghanistan, a Fisk source who has never – ever – been wrong, tells me that there are at least 20 of these torture centres still active in the country, six in Zabol province alone. But we don't care about Afghans. Yet I was struck by a tiny – irrelevant, you might say – incident at Herat airport a couple of weeks ago when two Afghans invited me for lunch beside the runway. Our small Kandahar-Kabul aircraft was refuelling while I shared their bread and tea and boiled egg, leaving my web of eggshells on the burned grass. Imagine my embarrassment when I stood up and turned to find them gently collecting each piece of eggshell and placing them in a plastic bag. Keep Afghanistan clean. Will we? Ping. Welcome to Afghanistan.