Orin Gordon
Before wading into the fallout from the leaks of private, internal correspondence within the Caribbean Court of Justice (CCJ), it’s important to understand what the CCJ is.
It’s the final court of appeal (supreme or apex court) in civil and criminal matters for only five Caricom countries—Barbados, Belize, Dominica, Guyana and St Lucia. That is its Appellate Jurisdiction, one of two. The other is its Original Jurisdiction, which, in its words, “applies rules of international law in respect of the interpretation and application of the Revised Treaty of Chaguaramas.” Decisions of the CCJ in both jurisdictions are final.
Even though the court is in Port-of-Spain, it isn’t Trinidad and Tobago’s final court of appeal. That’s the Privy Council in London, part of the House of Lords, the unelected upper chamber at Westminster. The Privy Council can consist of up to 12 judges, and three to five are normally empanelled to hear cases from countries for which it is their supreme court.
T&T’s objections to the re-election of Caricom Secretary General Dr Carla Barnett are being heard under the CCJ’s original jurisdiction. The more countries sign on to the CCJ, the more its legitimacy increases. The leaks could have a devastating impact on that. That’s how grave the crisis is.
The Regional Judicial and Legal Services Commission (RJLSC) appoints judges to the CCJ, oversees financial and HR management, and “(Cultivates) an environment conducive to the development of professionalism, excellent work ethics, managerial competence, and job satisfaction.”
It’s composed of legal experts, academics and civil society leaders from across the Caribbean. Its Vision Statement speaks of “the best practices in support of (the CCJ) discharging a fair and efficient system of justice.” It doesn’t describe itself as an oversight body, but it sounds like one.
Its position is worth quoting at length: it “recognises the seriousness of these matters and the importance of addressing them in a manner that protects public trust and confidence in the Court, and the broader administration of justice throughout the Caribbean.”
“…the RJLSC believes that these concerns are best addressed through the established internal governance mechanisms of the Court and the Commission, and through a transparent and independent review undertaken in the best interest of the Region.”
The CCJ President Winston Anderson released a lengthy statement defending himself against the accusations. It’s a measure of how damaging the leaks are to him and the court that he decided that he needed to address them immediately – before any investigation.
Under the heading Panel Composition (“Panel Fixing”), Anderson denied setting up or changing panels to engineer “predetermined outcomes”, and described it as “perhaps the most serious wound.”
Under the heading Influencing Judgments, he denied interfering in cases, noting the unanimous decision handed down in a case referenced by one of the justices in the leaks—the case of Guyanese opposition leader Azruddin Mohamed and his father Nazar Mohamed, in their wider legal battle against extradition to the US to face serious criminal charges.
The exchanges in the cases mentioned, he said, were part of the normal robust back and forth between judges, and no judge of the court is prevented from expressing his/her judicial views.
I don’t have the space here to fully present the President’s rebuttals. They’ve been posted in a media release on the CCJ’s Facebook page. You should go read it.
Either way, an independent investigation is necessary. As a journalist, I’m instinctively in favour of protecting identities, even if an investigating body may not be bound by the same code. However, the media and the professionals delivering investigative oversight have an obligation to fairness. The leaks, as reported, were effectively free hits at Anderson. We’ve now heard from him.
In his 4,000-word defence, this sentence stood out: “The inferential leap required to elevate the issue of Bench attire to an allegation of panel fixing is irresponsible, intellectually dishonest, injudicious and quite simply, malevolent!”
That reads like he thinks that the affair is orchestrated. If that’s the case, the leaks may turn out to be an act of self-harm, rather than exorcism. They damage the CCJ and hurt the case for accession by states outside its appellate jurisdiction. Accusations of maladministration by its President don’t only hurt the CEO… they hurt the firm.
