The content in this page ("Judgement Call" by Harrison George) is not produced by Prachatai staff. Prachatai merely provides a platform, and the opinions stated here do not necessarily reflect those of Prachatai.

Judgement Call

My experience of Thai courtrooms is, mercifully, not extensive but as far as I can recall, they all have a notice facing the public seats telling you to turn off your mobile.

And fair enough.  Other entertainment venues, like cinemas and theatres, also expect you to turn them off.  Why should the courts of justice be any different?

But it turns out that because the signs face the public galleries, and therefore cannot be seen from the bench, judges weren’t aware of this restriction. 

So when the law students involved in the Court Watch project reported at a National Human Rights Commission forum that judges (and lawyers) were using their cell phones for personal calls in the middle of trials, the Deputy Secretary-General of the Courts of Justice was sufficiently embarrassed to promise an order by next month banning this.

This is odd.  I mean, I don’t know that actors have had to be told the same thing.  I have seen no reports of soliloquies delivered as:

‘To be or not to be – tum-te-tum-te-tum-te-tum … yes dear … no, as soon as I’ve finished here … only Act Three … a packet of cigs and what? …OK, see you then – that is the question.’

You would have thought that judges would not need an explicit order but might have already recognized that presiding over a trial requires their uninterrupted attention.  Something to do with the dignity of the bench.

But perhaps this is not uppermost in their minds.  Thai judges don’t seem to bother trying to earn the respect of the public.  They just demand it and use the contempt of court laws to cow the rest of the legal profession into making sure no one questions the noblesse they relentlessly oblige.

Occasionally, their impregnable armour of self-righteousness suffers a minor puncture or two, such as at the yet-again suspended hearing this week in the trial of 24 UDD leaders on charges of terrorism in connection with the events of April and May 3 years ago.

(This is not to be confused with the terrorism trial of the PAD leadership for their alleged involvement in the closure of the airports in 2008.  This was postponed a month ago and won’t start hearing evidence until July – that is if all the defendants manage to arrange lawyers by then, something that in 5 years they haven’t yet got round to.)

Since some of the UDD defendants are MPs, the case has attracted the attention of the Inter-Parliamentary Union, whose representative turned up this week, only to find that because parliament is in session, the presence of sitting MPs means another postponement.

Now the IPU head office in Geneva had submitted a letter to the courts informing them that an Australian lawyer would be representing them in court.  So when the judges and the defendants and their lawyers and Uncle Tom Cobley and all gathered to do nothing substantive about the case, one judge decided they could at least deal with this IPU rep.

He asked the representative to identify himself.  Then he asked for proof of his identity.  The representative offered an exact copy of the IPU letter that the judge was holding in his hand. 

Now this hints at insubordination.  He asked for ID.  A letter is not an identity card.  The judge wanted more.

Perhaps more accustomed to the rough and tumble of Australian courtrooms, the foreigner decided he’d already been sufficiently cooperative.  Who did the judge think was going to impersonate him at a hearing as boring as this?  And this is supposed to be an open trial.  Were other members of the public in attendance asked to prove their identity?  He had a credit card he could show, but perhaps the judge would prefer him to leave the court?

The massed ranks of Thai lawyers held their collective breath, some in fear of what the mighty majesty of the bench might do next, some with a smirk, silently urging the foreigner on.  There can’t be a lawyer in the land who hasn’t at one time or another bridled under the high hand of the Thai judiciary.

Now despite the presence of an interpreter, this exchange was, on the initiative of the judge, conducted in English and suitably larded with ‘your honours’ and ‘with all due respects’ and ‘if it please the courts’.  But the judge, perhaps for once mindful of the reputation of the Thai bench, ended it in Thai, granting permission to stay, but just this once.

His fellow judge also muttered a non-discriminatory and totally unbiased comment in Thai about farangs thinking they could do what they like.  Which was translated for the farang concerned. 

Who might be thinking the same about Thai judges.

Since 2007, Prachatai English has been covering underreported issues in Thailand, especially about democratization and human rights, despite the risk and pressure from the law and the authorities. However, with only 2 full-time reporters and increasing annual operating costs, keeping our work going is a challenge. Your support will ensure we stay a professional media source and be able to expand our team to meet the challenges and deliver timely and in-depth reporting.

• Simple steps to support Prachatai English

1. Bank transfer to account “โครงการหนังสือพิมพ์อินเทอร์เน็ต ประชาไท” or “Prachatai Online Newspaper” 091-0-21689-4, Krungthai Bank

2. Or, Transfer money via Paypal, to e-mail address: [email protected], please leave a comment on the transaction as “For Prachatai English”