Hurly burly in the corridors of justice: Of (Dis)Belief, Superstition and Dogma

“Having heard the version of the complainant and the Accused I BELIEVE (emphasis is mine) the Complainant as a witness of truth. On the same hand I find no reason why the police officers will lie in court despite the contradictions that Defence Counsel pointed out. These being minor contradictions I find Accused guilty as charged” – Mr Thanardier, Senior Magistrate. Those words echo in my head and everything goes blurry around me. I have read the case file and I was convinced that no right-minded Court (I mean… no Court in its right mind!) could convict. ■ “Do you have anything to say before I pass sentence Counsel?” says His Honour Mr Thanardier. ■ “I have nothing to add,” says my Pupil Master (Adding nothing to nothing!?) I furiously thought. It is then that I fall into an imaginary exchange with the Bench. ■ “Whilst Your Honour is at it can he also sentence Belief to be locked up indefinitely with no chance of remission?” I say candidly. His Honour Mr Thanardier looks at me as if I just escaped from a psychiatric hospital and before he has the opportunity to say anything I add: ■ “Belief is guilty since time immemorial”, while adopting my best Minister of Justice attitude. His Honour Mr Thanardier, who is moderately intelligent, seems to grasp my comment and leans back in his chair and smiles at me: ■ “But Counsel ‘Belief’ is not an accused party here! He then looks at the usher who nods proudly and sarcastically at his comment. Han han…” he adds gimmicky. ■ “J’ACCUSE…like Zola Your Honour.” ■ “Counsel…!” he shouts back. ■ “Then let’s keep Belief out of this Court Your Honour. This Court is long considered to be the Fountain of Justice but so long as Belief loiters these gloomy premises then the litigants’ thirst might be…unquenched!” I continue. ■ “COUNSEL!! THIS IS A COURT OF LAW!” Snaps His Honour Mr Thanardier. ■ “Coincidentally I was about to say the same thing Your Honour!” I say smiling broadly as if for once we are surfing on the same wavelength. “And to this may I add that this Court is also a court of Evidence!” ■ “What is Your point Counsel?” Says His Honour Mr Thanardier who is now getting irritated and fidgeting on his bench… huh seat. ■ “Well my point is that Belief is like time and space Your Honour. It is a variant. Humanity once BELIEVED that the earth was flat. We once BELIEVE that the sun would go around the earth. ‘’Belief’’ is subjective. It is based on faith or superstition and the conclusion is as unpredictable as is black magic,” I boldly reply. ■ “Spare me your lecture…” says Mr Thanadier “…and get to the point!” ■ “Well my point is that Your Honour did not explain in his jurisprudential judgement how he came to the conclusion that the Complainant is worthy of belief and my client is not,” I add. “It is important at least for the posterity Your Honour.” ■ “Well, the Complainant deponed in a straightforward manner without hesitation,” says his Honour while trying to regain his composure and get his wit back. ■ “But the Complainant is an insurance representative Your Honour and my client is a stone mason. Obviously they do not have the same oral abilities. The Complainant could sell a donkey tail to a donkey,” I say ironically. ■ “Well Counsel there is also the body language?” ■ “Body language!!? Yes indeed!” I say smiling broadly, nodding, acquiescing, bowing and even throwing my two thumbs up in the air (in fact I am losing the will to live now). “We might also toss a coin Your Honour!” At this moment, our client howls a flurry of insults to the Senior Magistrate upon the reading of his sentence. My countenance will not show any emotion although I was enjoying the moment. Mr Thanardier tells the Accused: ■ “You are going down for 18 months. I will be driving home in the comfort of my BMW whilst listening to the news from afar. When I’ll pass the gate of the Court, the police officers there will salute and compliment me. And by the time you will be making intimate introduction with the other prison inmates, I will be having a nice dinner that my loving wife would have prepared and I will open a bottle of wine and drink (I hope you won’t choke on it old darling I thought) to the fact that I have gotten society rid of people like you for a long time.” ■ “But I did not do this case,” shouts the accused in tears. ■ “I have heard such protestation for 20 years,” says the senior magistrate stoically. “It will not stop me from doing my job. TAKE HIM DOWN! And I may have to report the outrageous submission of Counsel to the Bar Council!” The family of the client are also here almost fighting with the police officers to give him a last hug before he is being carried away in the blue prison van. I feel absolutely devastated. ■ “Cheer up!” says my Pupil Master. “WE have done everything that WE could for the client.” He usually says ‘WE’ when he loses and ‘I’ in the exceptional occasions he wins. ■ (Have YOU?) I thought. (A first year student with a speech impediment could have done better!) “But there was neither scientific nor corroborating evidence against the accused!” I protested. “Can’t we appeal?” ■ “The family of our client does not have money. I wish they did,” he says. ■ “I am sure you do,” I reply. “But can’t they have legal aid. This would never have happened in a jurisdiction where there is jury trial like the UK.” ■ “You are not in the UK!” snaps my Pupil Master. “Live up to it! Stop making reference to UK. UK this! UK that! You are in Mauritius now! The system is like that! Come let’s go and have lunch. It’s on you.” ■ “Well it is akin to kangaroo just…” ■ “Enough!” he interrupts me. I lost appetite and felt miserable in the Pupils office when Roger the oldest clerk in Chambers came along. ■ “What’s up young Padawan,” he says. ■ “The magistrate sent our client to 18 months in the nick…” I reply. ■ “Let me guess…” he interrupts me “...he decided to BELIEVE the version of the complainant!” ■ “How do you know?” I say miserably. ■ “It is the story of the world here young Padawan.” ■ “But if the court is finding someone guilty only on what the Complainant is saying… isn’t that a mere allegation?” He now laughs heartily and I was about to take offence when he says: “Ah young Padawan you sound as melancholic as Monsieur Jaques. You can win arguments but you cannot fight prejudices.” ■ “I wish I can suck prejudice out of court like a weasel sucks eggs,” I reply. ■ “Life and Courts are the same,” he says dogmatically. ■ “Ought they?” I ask. ■ “If you are not loved you do not stand many chances. Good night,” he says before departing. ■ “So it is also a Court of Emotions then!” I say. Sitting all alone in the empty Pupils’ room in Chambers, I ponder on my career being put to an end well before it even started with a referral to the august Bar Council! Phew… thankfully, I only imagined it all and that there exist no such judges or Barristers in this jurisdiction.