Divine kings, divided courts (1)
By Tonye Princewill
IN days of old, before the interlopers descended on Africa and imposed their own version of discipline and decorum, there were kings who claimed divine origin. Because of this, their subjects were not supposed to see them eating. Anyone who did, was promptly dispatched to his ancestors.
Such severe sanctions seem barbaric, I’m sure, to those now presiding over our courts-the magistrates and judges who make up Nigeria’s much troubled judiciary. But our ancestors knew a bit of psychology, which partisans of the Salami/Katsina-Alu imbroglio apparently have lost sight of: If you are seen to behave as ordinary persons do, the people will take you as one of them.
It is a most propitious hour, I think, to remind Nigerian magistrates of this. Their behaviour, since the open rift between the Appeals Court’s former President and the erstwhile Chief Justice of Nigeria, is mundane and plebeian—more akin to equivalent of motor-park etiquette than the decorum we expect of Justices.
There has always been politics within the Nigerian judiciary and, in all likelihood, that of other countries as well; so the alignment of opinions and views doesn’t bother me a lot.
My concern is the searing friction, the open intrigue and the unabashed belligerence of the factions. This could, in time, undermine the subtle but fundamental psychology that sets the judiciary apart from the other arms of government. With every passing day and every passing comment this fear is no longer false evidence appearing real (FEAR), it is reality itself.
Public allegiance to the judiciary is based on an ethereal network of values, beliefs and perceptions. Considered as a whole, these notions form a psychological structure whose logical blueprint is vaguely discernable in this cliché: “Justice must not only be done but it must also be seen to have been done”.
Returning to divine kinship, rest assured that, even in olden days, only the gullible and the very dull actually believed their rulers did not eat. But suspecting is one thing, seeing is quite another. Everyone acquiesced in this social fiction, because of its survival value. The king’s stabilizing authority stemmed from his alleged divinity. Eating though, is an egalitarian ritual that tends to reduce the ruler to the level of the ruled—since everyone does it!
The modern magistrate is backed by the coercive power of the state, which has replaced divine authority. But coercion alone cannot sustain the judiciary. Its authority is also moral and psychological.
Like divine kings, there is an aura and a mystique around the person of the magistrate or judge and a protocol that is designed to maintain it. As a Prince I always wished if I was to take the next best option, it would be a judge. Election Petition tribunal judgements bolstered that perception. Now I am not so sure.
The magistrate’s gavel, his elevated bench, the insignia and symbols of office and distinctive, priest-like attire are all part of an evolved persona that is intended to inspire trust and, at the same time, instill fear, reverence and respect. The behaviour of magistrates is also part of that persona.
They are restricted in their utterances and association, both by law and custom. This makes the judiciary fundamentally different from the legislature and executive branches of government, where the short-coming of individuals are often winked at. Hence legislators can brawl and executives can twist or bend the truth, even be ineffective and still remain effective. Go figure.
But not the judge or the magistrate. They are closer to the king or traditional ruler, who is expected to rise above the frailties and foibles of ordinary humans.
In French, for instance, magistrat means “magistrate” or “ruler”. In “Clans And Chiefs In Ireland” (an Internet article), Eddie Geoghegan explains that chieftaincy in Ireland is based on the Brehon Code, which is derived from breitheamh, meaning “law giver” or “judge.
In Ireland and Scotland, as in Nigeria, a person loses his individuality after being installed as a chief. Likewise, an ordinary individual becomes something more, when he is sworn in as a magistrate. Elaborate courtroom protocol, has the effect of masking his or her character traits, especially the flaws.
Personalities are also immersed in protocol and etiquette. “…Never directly address the judge or any other officer or litigant..,” advises an Internet posting, entitled Courtroom Etiquette, “You are not dealing with the individual members of the court…You are dealing with the court as a complete entity”.
