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IN early April, Lord Nueberger, president of the Supreme Court of the United Kingdom, addressed the Criminal Justice Alliance in London on the benign and somewhat clichéd issue of ‘Fairness in the Courts’. By the next morning, however, his speech had taken the media by storm. He was widely quoted as having suggested that Muslim women be allowed to wear veils when appearing in UK courts! Whilst this led to great celebration amongst Muslim groups, in Britain and abroad, many, even within the English legal profession, were shocked at such a bold statement on an inherently controversial matter.
This media hype was ultimately short-lived: within days the UK Supreme Court released a statement emphasising that Lord Nueberger had not said that Muslim women should be allowed to wear a full-face veil while giving evidence in court. The statement further clarified that Lord Nueberger’s lecture was aimed at encouraging judges to develop a greater understanding of the perspectives of all those who are less experienced in the criminal justice system and are, therefore, likely to find it intimidating to appear in court, especially to give evidence.
The entire episode was sufficiently intriguing for me to review the text of his actual speech. True enough, Lord Nueberger had not advocated that Muslim women be allowed to appear veiled in court. He had merely referred to them as an example of a class of people who may be intimidated by court procedures due to their particular cultural, religious and social background. The fact that the English press could report this out of context is an indication of its own preoccupation with the veil. And the fact that Muslim groups could hail the misreporting as a vindication is a testament to their belief in their entitlement to exclusive, special treatment.
However, it was neither the English press, nor the Muslim groups that interested me. I was more struck by the fact that the most senior judge in the UK considered it necessary to remind his brother judges that they were human, engaged in the performance of a public service and duty bound to make justice more accessible for the ordinary person irrespective of his religious, cultural and social beliefs. It was natural for me to wonder: would a senior judge in Pakistan have displayed a similar commitment to the principles of equality in justice?
Committing to equal access to justice requires more than speeches.
Equality of justice had certainly formed a significant talking point in International Judicial Conferences organised by Pakistan’s Supreme Court in the recent past. The conferences’ proceedings would open with a group of young children singing the official Supreme Court official anthem, titled ‘Justice for All’. The then chief justice of Pakistan would declare his empathy for minorities and his commitment to universal justice and certain other judges would recount the achievements of the Supreme Court in this regard by reference to suo motu notices and public interest litigation.
A commitment to equal access to justice, however, requires more than declarations in the form of anthems and speeches. Even taking of suo motu notices is insufficient in this regard because it only provides justice to a fortunate few who fall within the Supreme Court’s radar, and has little impact at the trial court level where the proverbial common man has his first brush with justice. What is required, instead, is a uniform, detailed and practical guide that outlines clearly how judges may treat those appearing before them so that they have an equal access to justice.
Evidently, some practical steps have been taken in this regard. The Federal Judicial Academy’s website states, that as far back as 2002, it had developed a ‘Benchbook’ for the district judiciary with the aim of providing an overview of legal procedure and assisting a judge in trial. The website, however, does not provide a copy of this Benchbook. There is also no evidence if judges are trained in using these or if the books are periodically evaluated and updated. Certainly, a review of or report on the use of Benchbooks or even court procedures designed to ensure equality did not find any place in Supreme Court conferences.
If equal access to justice is a commitment for the Pakistani legal system then it calls for necessary introspection on the true role of judges in society. Are they a breed apart to be held in awe? Or are they fallible human beings entrusted with the delicate task of determining right from wrong? If the latter then they must be supported by clear codes, rigorously trained and ruthlessly held accountable. The measure of their success will then lie, not in their lofty speeches, but in the extent to which the common man can claim to feel at ease and confident in approaching them.
The writer is a barrister and an advocate of the Supreme Court of Pakistan.
Published in Dawn, June 14th, 2015
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