Politicians are using the institution as an easy pawn in the nasty pre-election game of hyping crime, as the late judge SeanO'Leary said in an article published last week
SEAN O'Leary was not a man to stand on ceremony. Unlike some of his colleagues, he didn't go in for the paraphernalia associated with the upper echelons of the legal business.
He wasn't one for top hat and tails, or the bowing and scraping that characterises much of the administration of justice. He entered the business late, and didn't come from a privileged background.
In the 1980s he served as director of elections for Fine Gael, and later as a senator. The man had been around, and wouldn't have known the inside of an ivory tower if it landed on top of him.
All of which make his posthumous comments last week on the Supreme Court, and by extension the judiciary as a whole, all the more valuable, particularly in an election year.
O'Leary died on 23 December and left his thoughts in an article which was published in the Irish Times last Wednesday. The underlying theme of his piece was the dangers to the independence of the judiciary. This independence, he felt, was under attack from what he called the "populist media consensus."
O'Leary cited three instances which illustrated his thesis, but he could also have pointed to the broad area of crime. For it is here that the independence of the judiciary is under serious attack for the last number of months and will continue to be so from here on into the general election in the summer.
At the heart of the attack is a grab for votes.
Crime is one of the major issues coming into the election, and with no easy, quick-fix solutions to hand, politicians are attacking the judiciary.
Criticism of court decisions or behaviour by judges is long overdue. But that is not the thrust of the attack on the judiciary. Instead, members of the Oireachtas appear to want to make judges more accountable to their branch of government, at the expense of independence. While this might harvest votes, it would do nothing for the health of a democracy, or the protection of citizens who come into conflict with the law. It would constitute a regime more akin to Pinochet's Chile than a functioning republic.
The issues of so called mandatory minimum sentences for drugs' offences and application of the bail laws have been to the fore in this conflict.
Some politicians are throwing tough-guy shapes, demanding that the judiciary interpret the law as the Oireachtas demands of them.
In the case of the so-called mandatory minimum sentences, this effectively amounts to pressurising the judiciary to undermine the constitution because such a course suits the current political climate, and might harvest votes.
Over Christmas, the Taoiseach had a pop at sentencing in drugs cases. Assistant government whip Billy Kelleher has got his tuppence worth in and the minister for justice has used the judiciary to deflect from his responsibilities in the last few months.
On the opposition side, the attacks have been more subtle. Leading this charge is O'Leary's former party, Fine Gael. One of the party's bigwheeze posters has Enda Kenny looking tough with the Four Courts providing a backdrop, over the legend: "I'll make the criminals pay for their crime."
Enda's pose is designed to give him the air of Wyatt Earp, but he doesn't cut it as a sheriff and looks more like an extra in Father Ted. However, the message being conveyed is clear. The courts are soft on crime, but Enda will sort out those lilylivered judges when he gets into power.
Michael McDowell's attempts to undermine the judiciary's independence have been far more serious. In relation to drugs offences, he has repeatedly said that judges have increased the sentences handed down since he began talking out against the sentencing regime. How sits this with the independence of the judiciary, if judges are to be swayed by public statements of a minister for justice?
In comments made in court before Christmas, McDowell's best buddy, Supreme Court judge Adrian Hardiman, stressed "the duty of judges is to decide individual cases impartially in accordance with the constitution and the law and without regard to expressions of opinion, except from the DPP and the sentenced person."
By Hardiman's yardstick, the judges who have been influenced by McDowell's comments are guilty of a dereliction of duty, and therefore should be removed. Unless, of course, they haven't been influenced, and McDowell is merely attempting to undermine their independence by shooting off at the mouth. Then he should be removed. Either way, what is unfolding is dangerous for anybody interested in the rights of citizens.
In the desperate hunt to snaffle votes, and find a scapegoat for crime, the judiciary is an easy target. For one, they won't bite back. But more importantly, they are part of a culture which can easily be portrayed as out of touch with reality.
The silly rig-outs, the ancient rituals, the obsequies observed by practitioners, would all be funny if the business of administering the law wasn't so serious.
In a recent case before the Court of Criminal Appeal, one plank of an appeal against a murder conviction concerned the trial judge's comments on wearing wigs. This kind of garbage is more attuned to Victorian Britain than a modern republic. It's also manna for any politician throwing tough-guy shapes about the courts being "soft" or, as is often the case, implying that judges are "street-thick" and can easily be hoodwinked by defendants or their barristers.
Equally, the no-show by most of the senior judges at McDowell's Christmas drinks party, allegedly because of his comments, appeared petulant. These lads are supposed to be highly articulate, yet when put out they reverted to a sulk. In terms of basic public relations, they certainly are out of time.
The other pressure point on the judiciary's independence comes from the media, or, as O'Leary would have it, "the populist media consensus". Here, ironically, the media's independence is fatally compromised.
Crime correspondents, for the most part, rely almost exclusively on the gardai for information.
Culturally, the Garda Siochana is the most secretive police force in western Europe, so the flow of information is confined to the chosen few in the media. That keeps everybody in line, pushing the force's agenda.
Ultimately some correspondents see themselves as an adjunct to the force, and even get off on their own heroic exploits, swinging big mickeys, becoming legends in their own lunchtimes.
Allied to the dictum that crime sells, this makes for a media largely hyping crime and pushing the agenda of the gardai, a prosecutorial body, rather than offering a balanced version of crime and punishment.
That is the climate which prevails approaching the election. Crime is going to be big cheese, and anything that might get an edge in the hunt for votes will be used. McDowell has already dragged through the gutter the basic democratic concept of separation of powers. O'Leary's comments from the grave might give pause for fleeting thought, but don't bet on it. The gutter will be crowded out by the time the votes are counted.
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