Constitutional Hill

Constitutional Court

Should we always trust officials who remove children from their parents?

We live in a world in which elites of every stripe (including many journalists, social workers, police officers, politicians and judges) often assume that poor people are dishonest, irresponsible and lacking in the basic ability to care for others – including their children. There is a deeply ingrained assumption amongst many (but, of course, not all) members of the chattering classes that poor people are to blame for their poverty and that they are prone to be less responsible and less worthy of concern and respect than middle class or rich people.

Meaning well, some often endorse interventions by the state that are aimed at “protecting” poor people from themselves (regardless of what their real needs and wishes might be) and protecting the children of poor people from assumed neglect by their parents. Acting on the questionable assumption that state officials will be better placed than parents to determine what is in the best interest of children, they endorse potentially drastic interventions by state officials to “save” or “protect” children from their poverty stricken parents.

In Australia this kind of paternalistic authoritarianism gave rise to the scandal of the Stolen Generations. Between approximately 1869 and 1969 children of Australian Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander descent were removed from their families by the Australian Federal and State government agencies and church missions, under acts of their respective parliaments, ostensibly to protect the children and enhance their life chances.

In the South African context, how destructive this can be of the basic dignity of the poor is well illustrated by the facts that gave rise to the various judgments handed down by the Constitutional Court yesterday in the case of C and Others v Department of Health and Social Development, Gauteng and Others.

On Friday 13 August 2010, Mr C was repairing shoes on a street corner – as he does every day – but unlike other days he had his daughter with him because his partner (who normally looked after the child) had been hospitalised to give birth to another child. Ms M, a blind person, was accompanied by her two daughters while begging.

On that day designated social workers removed the children from both Mr C and Ms M and placed them in the Department’s care facilities, without notifying the parents of where they were. The social workers (along with other Tshwane officials) were taking part in a well-planned operation involving the removal of children from people found to be begging while accompanied by children. No court order had been sought for the removal of these children.

Section 152(1) of the Children’s Act empowers a social worker or police official to remove a child and place the child in temporary safe care, without a court order, if it is reasonably believed that: (a) the child is in need of care and protection and needs immediate emergency protection; (b) the delay in obtaining a court order may jeopardise the child’s safety and well-being; and (c) removal is the best way to secure the child’s safety and well-being.

In terms of the Act, a social worker is required to compile a report on whether the child is in need of care and protection in terms of section 152 within 90 days, after which the child must be brought before the children’s court for a determination of whether she or he is indeed in need of care and protection. There is no provision for automatic court review before compilation of the report and if parents are unable to appear in court or get help from an NGO to assist them, chances are that their children would permanently be deprived of the care and love of their parents.

In two separate decisions Skweyiya J (Froneman J concurring) and Yacoob J (Moseneke DCJ, Khampepe J, Nkabinde J and Van der Westhuizen J concurring) both agreed, for slightly different reasons, that the provisions of the Children’s Act that authorised this removal of children from their parents without court supervision were in breach of section 28 and section 34 of the Constitution and that this was not justifiable in terms of the limitations clause.

Although a social worker or police official is empowered by the Act to remove a child from his or her parents only if, in their reasonable belief, immediate emergency protection is so necessary that the delay in obtaining a court order may jeopardise the child’s safety and well-being, and then only if the removal of the child is the best way to secure that child’s safety and well-being, the danger is that a social worker or police officer will exercise this discretion on the basis of prejudicial assumptions about poor people and their ability and willingness to look after their children.

As Justice Yacoob emphasised, the purpose of the impugned provisions is to protect, secure and prevent the violation of the constitutional rights of children. One may well ask (if one takes an overtly formalistic view of constitutional interpretation or if one harbours the deeply paternalistic view that state officials will often be better placed that poor citizens to decide what is in the best interest of their children): how can the legislative provisions here in issue that are palpably designed to protect the constitutional rights of children be inconsistent with section 28 of the Constitution?

The answer is simple: there exists always the possibility that a removal would be wrongly made (because of overzealousness on the part of social workers or police officers or because of the prejudices against the poor harboured by many social workers and police officers. As Yacoob  therefore stated:

It is in the interests of children that an incorrect decision by a court made without hearing the child or the parents, or by a designated social worker or police official be susceptible to automatic review by a court, in the ordinary course, in the presence of the child and the parents. It follows from this that sections 151 and 152 [of the Act] do not provide for this and are therefore constitutionally wanting. Sections 151 and 152 of the Act, though their positive provisions are aimed at the best interests of children, fall short of achieving this result. They carry the potential of being counter-productive because they fail to provide for a Children’s Court automatic review in the presence of the child and the parents. In this sense, and to this extent, the laws are not in the best interests of children. They therefore limit the rights contained in section 28(2).

Having found the provisions unconstitutional, the question remained how to correct this problem. If the sections were merely declared invalid, social workers and police officers would have no power to protect children and remove them from parents (even when this was clearly required) until such time as Parliament had remedied the defect. If the order of invalidity was merely suspended and Parliament provided with one or two years to fix the problem, there would be no guarantee that the sections would not be abused.

The majority therefore endorsed a radical remedy of reading a whole new section into the Act, requiring that a social worker place the removal of children before a Children’s Court for review within 48 hours after the removal and must ensure that the child concerned and the parents, guardian or care-giver as the case may be are, unless this is impracticable, present in court for this review.

Both Skweyiya and Yacoob were at pains to say that this reading in of words into the statute by the court should not be seen as an infringement of the separation of powers doctrine because the court is now writing legislation on behalf of the legislature. As Skweyiya eloquently stated:

By making a final order of this kind, however, I do not suggest that the Court has crowded-out Parliament’s role in further investigating how best to serve the interests of children, for whom a removal from the home is necessary, and in enacting appropriate legislation. Indeed, a final order of reading-in does not give the judiciary the ultimate word on pronouncing on the law. Instead it initiates a conversation between the Legislature and the courts, for Parliament’s legislative power to amend the remedy continues to subsist beyond the granting of the relief, and may be exercised within constitutionally permissible limits at any future time. I would therefore encourage the Legislature to exercise its entitlement to alter the remedy, should it see fit to do so, in view of its specialist expertise and, of course, subject to its constitutional mandate.

For Constitutional Court watchers the minority decision in this case might be of much interest. Although the minority decision was authored by Justice Chris Jafta, it was also supported by Chief Justice Mogoeng Mogoeng. To my mind there are two serious problems with the reasoning of the minority. First, the reasoning is extremely formalistic. There is no purposive interpretation of the provisions of the Bill of Rights at all and the impact or effect of the impugned provisions on the best interest of children is never considered. Second, the assumption underlying the minority judgment seems to be that social workers and police officers will always act in the best interest of the child and that their own prejudices and assumptions about poor people will never cloud their judgment.

Thus Jafta focuses on the text of section 28 of the Constitution and notes that it does not include a requirement that any decision to remove children from their parents should automatically be reviewed. Consequently, he argues, it cannot be used as a constitutional standard for determining the validity of legislation.

In the context of section 28(1)(b) read with section 28(1)(d) and section 28(2), the scope of the right to parental care cannot include parental care that is harmful or detrimental to the safety and well-being of a child. It cannot be claimed that section 28(1)(b) entitles a child to parental care that is harmful to its safety and well-being. It follows that the right to parental care envisaged in section 28(1)(b) is limited to parental care that is beneficial to a child. In other words, this section does not protect harmful parental care. Consequently, legislation which authorises a removal of a child from harmful parental care cannot limit the right in section 28(1)(b).

Completely failing to ask how these provisions would be applied and what impact this might have on the rights of the child to parental care, the minority merely focuses on the wording of section 28 – as if the provisions of the Bill of Rights have not been written in broad and general terms and are not in need of interpretation and amplification by the Constitutional Court – and concludes that these provisions do not prohibit Parliament from empowering officials to remove children from their parents, as long as those officials believe that this is warranted.

The possibilities that state officials will be influenced by anti-poor attitudes and will not always know better than the poor parents (who will be “legally” robbed of their children) what is in the best interest of their children, are never considered. This paternalistic attitude is surprising, to say the least and, to my mind, displays the kind of attitude that is difficult to square with a progressive, pro-poor and pro-transformation vision of the Constitution.

Lest we forget

This Saturday South Africa’s Constitution celebrates its fifteenth birthday. The Constitution was signed by then President Nelson Mandela on 10 December 1996 in Sharpeville. This was only one and a half years after the Constitutional Court started its work in terms of the interim Constitution.

By December 1996 that Court had already declared invalid the death penalty as well as action taken by then President Nelson Mandela. It had confirmed the constitutional validity of the amnesty provisions in the Truth and Reconciliation Commission Act and had sent the final Constitution back for redrafting because the draft had failed to conform to the 34 Constitutional Principles agreed to by negotiators before the 1994 election.

In short, by the time the final Constitution was signed by President Mandela 15 years ago, the Constitutional Court had demonstrated a clear intention to do its job properly by declaring invalid acts of Parliament and actions of the executive which did not conform to the provisions of the supreme Constitution. 

President Mandela might well have had reason to be miffed by the Constitutional Court because in the Executive Council of the Western Cape Legislature case it had found that the Parliament had unconstitutionally tried to delegate law making power to President Mandela and that his exercise of powers in terms of this delegation was thus unconstitutional. (This judgment was one of the judgments relied upon by those who challenged the unconstitutional attempts by President Jacob Zuma to extend the term of office of the former Chief Justice Sandile Ngcobo.)

President Mandela might therefore have expressed concerns about the “intrusion” of the Constitutional Court into the realm of “policy making” and might have warned that the work of the Constitutional Court will be assessed to determine whether that court is acting in a way that questions the power of the democratically elected legislature and the executive. Yet, in his speech at Sharpeville 15 years ago President Mandela did no such thing. Instead he said the following. 

Friends and compatriots;

By our presence here today, we solemnly honour the pledge we made to ourselves and to the world, that South Africa shall redeem herself and thereby widen the frontiers of human freedom.

As we close a chapter of exclusion and a chapter of heroic struggle, we reaffirm our determination to build a society of which each of us can be proud, as South Africans, as Africans, and as citizens of the world.

As your first democratically elected President I feel honoured and humbled by the responsibility of signing into law a text that embodies our nation`s highest aspirations.

In writing the words which today become South Africa’s fundamental law, our elected representatives have faithfully heard the voice of the people. To the Constitutional Assembly, and to its Chairperson and Deputy Chairperson who guided it through a complex and arduous process, we owe thanks.

We owe thanks to the Constitutional Court which has proved a true and fearless custodian of our constitutional agreements.

In centuries of struggle against racial domination, South Africans of all colours and backgrounds proclaimed freedom and justice as their unquenchable aspiration. They pledged loyalty to a country which belongs to all who live in it.

Those who sought their own freedom in the domination of others were doomed in time to ignominious failure.

Out of such experience was born the understanding that there could be no lasting peace, no lasting security, no prosperity in this land unless all enjoyed freedom and justice as equals.

Out of such experience was born the vision of a free South Africa, of a nation united in diversity and working together to build a better life for all.

Out of the many Sharpevilles which haunt our history was born the unshakeable determination that respect for human life, liberty and well-being must be enshrined as rights beyond the power of any force to diminish.

These principles were proclaimed wherever people resisted dispossession; defied unjust laws or protested against inequality. They were shared by all who hated oppression, from whomsoever it came and to whomsoever it was meted.

They guided the negotiations in which our nation turned its back on conflict and division.

They were affirmed by our people in all their millions in our country’s first democratic elections.

Now, at last, they are embodied in the highest law of our rainbow nation.

This we owe to many who suffered and sacrificed for justice and freedom.

Today we cross a critical threshold.

Let us now, drawing strength from the unity which we have forged, together grasp the opportunities and realise the vision enshrined in this constitution.

Let us give practical recognition to the injustices of the past, by building a future based on equality and social justice.

Let us nurture our national unity by recognising, with respect and joy, the languages, cultures and religions of South Africa in all their diversity.

Let tolerance for one another’s views create the peaceful conditions which give space for the best in all of us to find expression and to flourish.

Above all, let us work together in striving to banish homelessness; illiteracy; hunger and disease.

In all sectors of our society – workers and employers; government and civil society;
People of all religions; teachers and students; in our cities, towns and rural areas, from north to south and east to west – let us join hands for peace and prosperity.

In so doing we will redeem the faith which fired those whose blood drenched the soil of Sharpeville and elsewhere in our country and beyond.

Today we humbly pay tribute to them in a special way. This is a monument to their heroism.

Today, together as South Africans from all walks of life and from virtually every school of political thought, we reclaim the unity that the Vereeniging of nine decades ago sought to deny.

We give life to our nation`s prayer for freedom regained and continent reborn;

God bless South Africa;
Nkosi Sikelel’ i Afrika;
Morena boloka sechaba sa heso;
God seen Suid-Afrika.

I quote President Mandela’s full speech above to remind us all – on this fifteenth anniversary of our Constitution - of President Mandela’s commitment to the Constitution and the supremacy of the Constitution enforced by a fearless Constitutional Court. Lest we forget.

Constitutional Court in Bapsfontein shuffle

It is not surprising that section 26 of the Bill of Rights has become one of the sections most often invoked in cases being argued before the Constitutional Court. In a country in which many people do not have access to formal housing, one in which the property rights of some force many poor and destitute people to act in an unlawful manner, one in which such people often have no choice but to occupy land owned by others and build informal houses on that land to avoid absolute destitution, the right of access to housing guaranteed in section 26 will often come into play.

The situation is exacerbated by the failure of local, provincial and national governments to deal with this issue effectively and humanely and by officials whose elitist or extremely statist attitudes towards the poor and the homeless lead to often heartless and cynical attempts to force those who occupy land unlawfully to go and live elsewhere — anywhere — as long as it is “not-in-our-backyard”.

Yesterday, in Pheku and Others v Ekurhuleni Metropolitan Municipality (in a judgment authored by Justice Bess Nkabinde) the Constitutional Court once again came to the assistance of such a community. The Occupiers of Bapsfontein Informal Settlement had approached the court to challenge a High Court decision which found that where a Municipality declared an informal settlement a “disaster area” in terms of the Disaster Management Act it was permissible forcibly to relocate the residents of such an area and to demolish their homes. (Many years ago – during the apartheid era – Bapsfontein was infamous for hosting whites-only country dances in the hall depicted below. Country and Western singer Lance James regularly performed at these dances.)

The Bapsfontein informal occupiers had built their structures on land prone to develop “sinkholes”. They were then told that they would be “temporary moved” from this site, that their houses would be demolished and that no court order was required to do so as this action was taken in terms of the Disaster Management Act. The Municipality argued that such a “temporary move” was not an eviction at all. The Bapsfonetin residents were then forcibly removed from the area and their homes were then demolished. (So much for the care and compassion which the Ekurhuleni Municipality was required to show towards the informal occupiers and for the claim by the ANC politicians in that area that they always represent the best interests of the poor. These people might just as well have lived in a DA controlled municipality.)

The Court noted that section 55(2)(d) of the Disaster Management Act provides that evacuation is limited to cases where temporary action is necessary for the preservation of life and that this section had to be interpreted narrowly to ensure that it conformed to section 26 of the Constitution. Section 26(3) of the Constitution states that:

No one may be evicted from their home, or have their home demolished, without an order of court made after considering all the relevant circumstances.  No legislation may permit arbitrary evictions.

The Court found that properly construed, section 55(2)(d) does not authorise eviction or demolition without an order of court. It pointed out that on its wording, the Act deals with “evacuation”.  The word “evacuate” is generally used to describe what is done in a situation where people’s lives are at risk as a result of impending “disaster”.  “Evacuate” means to “remove from a place of danger to a safer place.”  The section could only be invoked where the people concerned required immediate removal to a safe temporary shelter, away from the disaster area, in order to preserve their lives.

If one reads this section carefully it had to mean that the Act ordinarily applies only to temporary removal from a disaster stricken area to a temporary shelter. It implies that those evacuated may return to their homes, if possible. This was not the case here where the Bapsfonetin Informal Occupiers were going to be removed permanently. Evacuation is not the equivalent of eviction, much less of a demolition. On the Municipality’s own admission, no purpose would have been served by removing the applicants without demolishing their homes because they would otherwise have returned to Bapsfontein. Evidently, this is not what section 55(2)(d) sanctions.

What was required was to demonstrate that there was urgency in the evacuation and that this was done in order to save lives. However, as the Constitutional Court pointed out, the facts do not suggest that there was any need for an urgent evacuation of the Bapsfontein community at all, and although the court did not say so, this suggests that the Municipality had used the sinkhole excuse to justify an eviction without obtaining a court order as required by the Constitution.

Conversely, the history of this matter shows that the Municipality never regarded the relocation of the applicants to be urgent to warrant drastic measures of unauthorised removal and demolition of shelters. This is fortified by the fact that Bapsfontein was identified as a hazardous area as early as 1986; its first sinkhole was identified in 2004; the first commissioned report was delivered in June 2005 and the second report in September 2005; no action was taken in response to these reports for four years after they were delivered, until 2009, when another report was commissioned and delivered; and only in 2010 did the Municipality finally start taking action to relocate the residents from Bapsfontein. An evacuation does not entail the demolition of peoples’ homes or an indefinite removal. The DMA does not seek to achieve this. If the purpose of the DMA were to authorise demolition and eviction without an order of court, it would have said so.  It does not.  The forcible removal of the applicants amounts to an eviction, an indefinite removal from Bapsfontein.  The deprivation is, in the circumstances, inimical to the right in section 26(3).

The High Court had therefore erred in dismissing the application for an urgent interdict preventing the eviction of the residents and the demolition of their homes as it had failed to consider the relevant circumstances. These include whether: (a) the disaster was sudden to warrant the hasty relocation; (b) Bapsfontein could be rehabilitated; (c) the Municipality had established disaster management and relocation plans and strategies as well as their implementation; (d) there was loss of life or an imminent threat to life; (e) alternative land has been made available or could reasonably be made available; and (f) the applicants are long term occupiers in Bapsfontein.

The High Court instead approached the matter on the assumption that the Disaster Management Ac was applicable and urgent removal was necessary. In the absence of evidence, the Court compared the situation of the applicants with that of people faced with sudden emergency but failed to assess whether the circumstances warranted evacuation under the Act.

In the light of the finding that the removal of the Bapsfontein Informal Occupiers and the demolition of their homes were unlawful, the Court found that the Municipality has an obligation to provide them with suitable temporary accommodation. To this end, the Municipality was ordered to identify land in the immediate vicinity of Bapsfontein for the relocation of those who had been evicted. The Municipality was also ordered to engage meaningfully with them on the identification of the land.

Furthermore, the Municipality was ordered to ensure that the amenities provided to those evicted and people resettled in terms of the court’s order are no less than the amenities and basic services provided to them as a result of the relocation of March 2011. Because these orders were quite far reaching the Constitutional Court issued what is known as a structural interdict. This happens where the Court feels that it was necessary to retain supervision over the implementation of the order to ensure that it was complied with.

The Municipality was therefore required to file a report in the Constitutional Court confirmed on affidavit by no later than 1 December 2012 regarding steps taken in compliance with the order issued by the court. The applicants would then have the right, within 15 days of the filing of the Municipality’s report, to lodge affidavits in response to the report.

This order would ensure that the Municipality implements the order of the court properly and would protect the vulnerable and marginalised applicants from exploitation and abuse.  Although the Municipality might feel aggrieved by this order, it was clearly necessary in order to protect the poor and homeless. And once again — without even having to wait for an assessment of the work done by the Constitutional Court, the cabinet has been provided with a rather graphic illustration of the way in which the Constitutional Court stands up for the poor and how its judgments protect the poor from the exploitation and heartless decision of the ANC-led Municipality.

Constitutional Court once again to the rescue of workers

What happens if a parastatal like South African Airways (SAA) acts in a manner destructive of the rights of its workers and a court intervenes to protect the workers? Would the cabinet see such a move by a court as advancing the socio-economic interests of ordinary citizens and thus advancing the transformation agenda, or, alternatively, would it see the pro-worker decision by the court as unacceptable “interference” by the court in the running of SAA?

The answer is not clear. After all, in a world in which a “pro-transformation” government often acts in an “anti-transformation” manner when the financial interests of some of its donors, benefactors and family members or friends of the President or other cabinet ministers are at stake, the cabinet might well argue — in truly Orwellian manner — that a pro-transformation judicial decision is in fact anti-transformation.

These questions take on an added importance in the light of the seemingly bizarre statement recently issued by the cabinet about the need to assess the judgments of the Constitutional Court “to establish how the decisions of the court have impacted on the lives of ordinary citizens and how these decisions have influenced socio-economic transformation and the reform of the law”.

Last week the Constitutional Court, in the case of Aviation Union of South Africa and Another v SAA and Others, handed down a judgment in an appeal from the Supreme Court of Appeal (SCA) in which that court ruled that workers affected by an outsourcing agreement in which part of a business is transferred as a going concern would not be protected — despite the provisions of section 197 of the Labour Relations Act which protected workers involved in an outsourcing agreement — if the outsourcing agreement was terminated and a second outsourcing agreement entered into.

SAA had outsourced maintenance services to a company called LGM for a fixed period (and transferred that part of its business as a going concern to LGM) but this outsourcing agreement was not renewed. SAA was planning to issue tenders for the provision of the services previously provided by LGM. If the interpretation by the SCA had been endorsed by the Constitutional Court, it would have meant that the employees of SAA (and later LGM) who enjoyed protection afforded by section 197 at the stage of the first outsourcing agreement to LGM would be left with no protection if the same business was again transferred in terms of a second or further outsourcing agreement to another company.

The Constitutional Court had already interpreted section 197 in National Education Health and Allied Workers Union v University of Cape Town and Others, (NEHAWU) where it stated that the correct approach to interpreting the section was:

to construe the section as a whole and in the light of its purpose and the context in which it appears in the LRA. In addition, regard must be had to the declared purpose of the LRA to promote economic development, social justice and labour peace. The purpose of protecting workers against loss of employment must be met in substance as well as in form. And, as pointed out earlier, it also serves to facilitate the transfer of businesses. The section is found in a chapter that deals with unfair dismissal. Construed against this background, the section makes provision for an exception to the principle that a contract of employment may not be transferred without the consent of the workers.  Subsection (1) says so and it makes it possible to transfer the business on the basis that the workers will be part of that transfer.  This will occur if the business is transferred as a going concern.

Section 197 alters the common law which previously provided that the employment contract between employees and the company automatically came to an end when that company transferred a business to another company “as a going concern”. The section thus protects the job security of workers affected by the transfer of a business from one company to another company — in this case as part of an outsourcing agreement. In the Nehawu case the Constitutional Court said that in deciding whether a business has been transferred as a going concern (a prerequisite for section 197 to operate) regard must be had to the substance and not the form of the transaction.

A number of factors will be relevant to the question whether a transfer of a business as a going concern has occurred, such as the transfer or otherwise of assets both tangible and intangible, whether or not workers are taken over by the new employer, whether customers are transferred and whether or not the same business is being carried on by the new employer.  What must be stressed is that this list of factors is not exhaustive and that none of them is decisive individually.

There were two judgments in the Constitutional Court case. Both rejected the conservative and exceedingly formalistic interpretation of section 197 provided by the SCA as such an interpretation would have provided far less protection for workers caught up in such outsourcing agreements.

The minority judgment, authored by Justice Chris Jaftha (and supported by Justice Mogoeng Mogoeng and Dikgang Moseneke, amongst others) found that the facts placed before the Labour Court were insufficient to support the finding that the termination of the agreement between SAA and LGM, coupled with the performance of the relevant services by SAA, would constitute a transfer of business as a going concern. This meant that it was not possible to determine whether the protection afforded by section 197 would apply or not. The minority would therefore have referred the matter back to the Labour Court to deal with the factual issues in the light of the proper interpretation of section 197.

The majority, in a judgment written by Justice Zack Yacoob (and supported by Chief Justice Ngcobo and Justices Cameron, Froneman, Khampepe and Van der Westhuizen), differed with this approach. The majority agreed with a broader interpretation of section 197 and also rejected the narrow and legalistic approach of the SCA. However, it disagreed with the minority that a transfer must already have taken place in this case before the applicants are entitled to any relief. The majority also disagreed with the conclusion that the evidence does not justify relief being granted to the Union by the Constitutional Court itself.  It therefore found that there was no need to refer the matter back to the Labour Court for further consideration.

The implicit concern of the majority in this case was that an original employer would be able to “get rid” of employees by transferring part of their business as part of an outsourcing agreement for a fixed period, then terminating that agreement without demanding that the part of the business would be transferred back to it or doing so only at a time when workers rights had already been affected.

According to Yacoob, unless SAA or the temporary service provider decided to take over the employees, contrary to the contentions of SAA, the workers would have remained with LGM on the date of the termination of the agreement. LGM might then have had to retrench all the employees.

On the assumption that the transaction with which we are concerned, in particular its cancellation, involves the transfer of a business as a going concern, the workers would have been hard done by on 1 October 2007 [when original agreement was terminated] because they would have been left with LGM.  The interim service provider would have sourced its workers and the possibility of the workers at LGM being transferred would be reduced.  In my view, the section contemplates a seamless transfer from the old employer to the new one.  And this becomes possible only if, when there is a dispute about whether the workers are to be automatically transferred in terms of the transaction concerned, that dispute is determined before the implementation of the agreement.

The majority found that the outsourcing agreement had to be interpreted in a manner that would inevitably activate section 197 at the termination stage of the agreement. It found that LGM did indeed become obliged to assist SAA in transferring certain services to SAA or to a third party. But the agreement went further, the court found. LGM was also obliged to provide SAA with reasonable access to the services, assets and inventory of LGM. LGM became obliged to sell all fixed assets and inventory dedicated only to providing the services in terms of the agreement back to SAA and to transfer or assign all third party contracts to SAA.

In the circumstances, the majority found that the cancellation clause of the agreement contemplated a transfer of the business as a going concern. The only debate was about whether the business as a going concern was to be transferred to SAA or to an interim service provider. As long as there is a transferor, the identity of that entity or person is of no material significance. The agreement contemplates transfer by LGM to SAA or to the interim service provider.  It requires a transfer by a transferor, the old employer, to the transferee, the new employer.

The majority therefore made a declaratory order that would safeguard the rights of the employees affected by the cancellation of the outsourcing agreement. It was therefore a judgment that any reasonable person would agree impacted positively on the lives of ordinary citizens (if not on the lives of SAA executives who might receive smaller bonuses as a result of the decision). However, only time will tell whether the independent research institution tasked with assessing the work of the Constitutional Court and the cabinet, will see this judgment in this way.

Constitutional Court more pro-poor than the government

Given recent statements by Gwede Mantashe, Secretary General of the ANC, and President Jacob Zuma complaining about alleged “interference” by the judiciary in the work of the elected branches of government (the legislature and the executive), it is perhaps understandable that an announcement by cabinet about a new “assessment on the transformation of the judicial system and the role of the judiciary in a developmental state” will be carried out by a “reputable research institution” created an outcry. As I wrote earlier this week, trust in the ANC government amongst the chattering classes is at an all time low, given daily reports of corruption in our media and given the passing of the Secrecy Bill by the National Assembly.

Only a few minutes after the statement was released my phone started ringing as journalists anxiously sought confirmation that this statement must be read as a full-frontal attack on the independence of the judiciary. Journalists focused especially on the announcement that cabinet agreed to an approach to the transformation of the judicial system that would include an ”assessment of the decisions of the Constitutional Court”, to be “undertaken by a research institution to establish how the decisions of the court have impacted on the lives of ordinary citizens and how these decisions have influenced socio-economic transformation and the reform of the law”.

However, on its face, this statement could be viewed as a positive development. If a truly independent and reputable research institution conducts such an assessment, it will inevitably find that the decisions of the Constitutional Court – perhaps more than the actions of the legislature and the executive — have by and large impacted positively on the lives of ordinary citizens and have facilitated socio-economic transformation. Where the Constitutional Court has handed down judgments that could be viewed as anti-poor, the decisions have almost always endorsed the policies of the government.

I am thinking, for example, of the Mazibuko judgement in which the installation of pre-paid water meters in Phiri, Soweto were unsuccessfully challenged by the residents of that area. The policy was devised and implemented by the ANC-led Metro government of Johannesburg and in my view discriminated against poor black residence of parts of Soweto. The Constitutional Court declined to intervene because the Metro’s policy was adapted over time.

However, in many other cases, the Constitutional Court has either endorsed transformative policies of the government or declared invalid anti-poor policies and laws passed by the ANC national or provincial governments. In the Grootboom case, the Treatment Action Campaign case, the Khosa case, the Jaftha case, and the Glennister case the Constitutional Court handed down judgments that had the effect of extending social and economic rights benefits to the poor, protected them from discrimination and unfair treatment or placed duties on the government to fight corruption, the very corruption that disproportionately affect the lives of the poor and the marginalised who depend on the honest and efficient state to provide it with the minimum basic goods and services required for them to survive and live a meaningful life.

The most telling case in this regard is the judgment of the Constitutional Court in the case of Abahlali Basemjondolo Movement SA and Another v Premier of the Province of Kwazulu-Natal and Others in which the Constitutional Court struck down sections of the KwaZulu-Natal Elimination and Prevention of Re-emergence of Slums Act. This Act, passed by the ANC-led legislature in KwaZulu-Natal, represented a full frontal attack on the poor, the homeless and those living in informal settlements. It might well have been passed in an attempt to undermine Abahlali Basemjondolo and to provide the government with legal tools to harass its members. The Act would have required landlords to evict all “slum dwellers” (a term last used by the apartheid government in the 1960ties) and was thus found to breach the right of access to housing guaranteed in the Constitution.

A credible report assessing the work of the Constitutional Court will have to come to the conclusion reached above, answering the very criticism of Mantashe, Zuma and others in the ANC who have convinced themselves that the courts interfere with the abilities of the other branches of government to effect socio-economic transformation. Any other conclusion will not be credible and no academic worth his or her salt would put their name to a report that concludes differently. If the assessment is done properly, it may therefore help to silence critics of the Constitutional Court.

This does not mean that other aspects of the cabinet statement are not worrying as they suggest a complete lack of respect for the separation of powers doctrine, which is inherent in a system of checks and balances in a constitutional democracy with a supreme Constitution. Two statements in particular can be interpreted to mean that the executive wishes to meet privately (read, in secret) with members of the judiciary to “engage” judges and to try and convince them that they should stop finding that the government is in breach of the Constitution. Notably the statement says:

Thirdly, to affirm the independence of the judiciary as well as that of the executive and parliament with a view to promoting interdependence and interface that is necessary to realize transformation goals envisaged by the Constitution. ….. Appropriate mechanisms be developed to facilitate for regular interface between the three spheres of the State to enhance synergy and constructive engagement among them in pursuit of common transformative goals that are geared to benefit the society at large.

There is nothing wrong with the leadership of the judiciary engaging the executive on issues dealing with access to justice and the better running of the judicial system. The government is elected to provide better access to justice and has to ensure that the system works well. In as much as formal discussions between the branches of government can facilitate the better functioning of our court system and easier access to courts, the move should be welcomed.

However, it is absolutely inappropriate for the executive to engage judges in a way that would even give the appearance that the members of the executive are trying to persuade judges to make decisions in individual cases that are more in line with the policy choices of the government. This would represent a full frontal attack on the independence of the judiciary and the system of checks and balances put in place by our Constitution.

Judges usually do not engage anyone about their past or future judgments (no matter what Judge President John Hlophe might think). They speak through their judgements and engage in this formal sense in a dialogue with the other two branches of government who can then respond appropriately to the judgments of the courts to ensure that they comply with the Constitution. Judges do not and cannot be seen to engage with members of the executive with a view of achieving “synergy” between the views of the executive and the judiciary.

In a constitutional democracy any synergy that exists between the executive and the judiciary is imposed by the various provisions of the Constitution as interpreted by the Constitutional Court. The judiciary is in dialogue with the executive in a formal way through their judgments but they are not “interdependent” with the other branches of government in the way hinted at by the statement (in the sense that they have to meet with the executive and agree on a plan of action on how best to effect transformation without embarrassing the bumbling lawyers appointed by the President and Parliament). If this is what the statement implied, it is wrong and dangerous and the intentions expressed in it would then be proposing an unconstitutional breach of the separation of powers doctrine, which is a doctrine that is deeply entrenched in our constitutional law.

What is needed is for this statement to be clarified. As it stands it can easily lead to the conclusion that the cabinet has a particularly dangerous and unconstitutional view of the relationship between the executive and the members of the judiciary. The judiciary — unlike the legislature and the executive — is completely independent and is required to be seen to be independent from the other branches of government. Secret talks about the transformative goals of the government with a view to “pull together” (which could easily mean, pull in the same direction as the executive – even when it acts in breach of the Constitution) would therefore not be acceptable. Indeed, it would represent a shocking attack against the Constitution itself.

As I suggested, the statement could, at a stretch, be interpreted differently to mean only that the executive would like to engage the leadership of the judiciary to improve access to justice and the efficiency of the courts. If that is the case, this should be made clear. If, however, the cabinet believes that it is appropriate for them to have secret chats with members of the judiciary to ensure policy synergies between them and the judiciary so that judges would not declare invalid the bumbling actions of the legislature and the executive, then the cabinet is shockingly ignorant and is embarking on a road to destroy our constitutional democracy. No judge who respects the Constitution would be party to such talks.

On freedom of expression and the censorship of magazines

When Chief Justice Mogoeng Mogoeng was nominated to that position, it was revealed that he happened to be a pastor in a Church that propagated hatred against certain segments of society and also espoused views that were so bizarre and so blatantly untrue that it would be difficult for a reasonable person of moderate intelligence not to conclude that the Church is run by a bunch of money-grabbing charlatans.

Although some questions were asked about his membership of this Church (whose doctrine might even be more bizarre than, say, the doctrine of the Dutch Reform Church, where a decision was recently taken that believing in the Devil was optional but that dominees had the right to drive out the very Devils their fellow dominees had a right not to believe in), the members of the Judicial Service Commission (JSC) hardly gave him a grilling on issues which really mattered: his judicial philosophy and his knowledge and understanding of the Constitution and the jurisprudence of the Constitutional Court.

No one asked the nominee whether he agreed with the Justice Moseneke or Justice Mokgoro judgments in the Van Heerden case (which dealt with affirmative action in marginally different ways); or whether he agreed with Justice Sachs and O’Reagan or with Justice Skweiya in the Volks v Robinson case (dealing with the rights of unmarried long term heterosexual partners); or whether he agreed with the reasoning of Sachs in the Fourie judgment (on same-sex marriage).

Neither did anyone ask Justice Mogoeng how he would explain the difference in approaches taken by the Constitutional Court in the Mazibuko case (dealing with  an unsuccessful challenge to the installation of pre-paid electricity meters) and the Joseph case (in which the court declared invalid the cutting off of electricity); or whether he believed that freedom of religion should always trump the right not to be discriminated against and if not, on what basis one should decide when the one right trumped the other; or whether he believed that the value of ubuntu (not actually found in the text of the 1996 Constitution) should sometimes trump the right of freedom of expression and if so according to what set of criteria.

(This is not a criticism of the Chief Justice. After all, he had no obvious choice in what members of the JSC would ask him and, for all I know, he might have answered all the proposed questions in an intelligent and enlightening manner. Rather it is a criticism of the members of the JSC, who has seldom asked informed and intelligent questions of candidates appearing before them.)

As a result, although we now know that our new Chief Justice does not take kindly to criticism, we have no clue whether he has the requisite knowledge of the constitutional jurisprudence of South Africa required to be a passable Chief Justice. Nor do we know whether he has the ability to analyse complex constitutional issues in a nuanced, intelligent and principled way.

Well, a test case will reach the Constitutional Court next year that might well reveal something about the values and legal abilities of our new Chief Justice (if – unlike in the Dey case – he decides to write a judgment in this case at all). Last week the South Gauteng High Court, in a judgment written by Judge R Mathopo, declared invalid recent amendments to the Film and Publications Act in the case of Print Media South Africa and Another v The Minister of Home Affairs and Another. The declaration will now have to be confirmed or rejected by the Constitutional Court.

The newly amended section 16(2) of the Film and Publications Act requires any publication – except newspapers who fall under the press ombudsman – to submit themselves to pre-publication censorship with the Film and Publication Board if their publication contains “sexual conduct” which, inter alia, violates or shows disrespect for the rights to human dignity of a person; degrades a person or advocates hatred. Sexual conduct is widely defined in the Act to include all kinds of depictions (and, seemingly, descriptions) of sexual situations. A failure to submit to pre-publication censorship would constitute a criminal offense in terms of section 24A of the Act.

Unfortunately the amendments to the Films and Publications Act were very badly drafted, to say the least, and there was some dispute between the parties about whether section 16(2) would apply to magazines and novels containing descriptions or allusions to sexual conduct or only to publications that contained actual visual depictions of said sexual conduct.

The applicants argued that it did refer to both types of depictions of sexual conduct and provided examples from various novels and magazines like Huisgenoot, Drum and You and foreign magazines like Vanity Fair, Time, and The New Yorker (only one of which I, admittedly, personally subscribe to) to demonstrate that these publications included descriptions of sexual conduct that complied with section 16(2). The High Court agreed with this view, suggesting that the publisher of widely read novels (such as Disgrace, say), and any number of other award winning works of fiction would be required to submit the work to the Film and Publication Board for pre-publication classification or censorship.  

The Minister argued that even if this was so, this did not constitute an infringement on freedom of expression because in most cases the magazines or novels would not be prohibited, but would only be properly classified, which would allow it to be sold in the correct venue under the right conditions. This would be done to protect children and to assist adults to make informed choices about what kind of depictions of sexual conduct they wished to be exposed to when they read smutty magazines like the New Yorker or smutty novels like Disgrace.

Although the judgment is not a model of clarity and coherence, it finds (as far as I can tell) that these sections would indeed impose a severe restriction on the right to freedom of expression of everyone in society. As there was no indication how long it would take before pre-publication classification would be concluded and as practical considerations might well force publishers to censor themselves before they even publish anything, the freedom of expression of everyone would be drastically interfered with by this section. This amounted to prior restraint, which was severely criticised by the Supreme Court of Appeal in the Midi Television judgment.

It is a constitutional imperative that society or public must receive current or fresh news as soon as possible. Any delay because of bureaucratic means amounts to a limitation on freedom of expression….. News is a perishable commodity and to delay even a shorter period may well deprive it of its value and interest.

Democracy cannot survive in the absence of freedom of expression and while the right is not absolute there are other, less restrictive, means that could have been used to achieve the goal of protecting children. For that reason these sections were declared unconstitutional.

The Constitutional Court will now have to decide whether the High Court was correct to give this broad interpretation to section 16(2) of the Act and whether the infringement on freedom of expression sanctioned by this section was justifiable in terms of the limitation clause.

I would imagine that for individuals and judges who strongly believed that God would judge one harshly if one allowed society to degenerate into a cesspit of pornography and gratuitous descriptions of sexual lust, this section would come as a godsend, so to speak.   For those who believed that sex was often a dirty thing, that sexual conduct should only happen between one man and one women who are married in the eyes of God and wanted to make babies for Jesus, and who believed that through prayers a baby could be brought into the world after the mother had been pregnant for five years and seven months, section 16(2) of the Act might appear rather benign. After all, one might argue that the limitation on freedom of expression imposed by this section could be justified in order to protect the broader society from the evil and disgusting depictions of sex in smutty magazines like The New Yorker.

But for individuals and judges – people like judge Mathopo and the long line of judges from the Constitutional Court – who embrace the notion that freedom of expression is at the heart of a vibrant democracy and that pre-censorship would only be justifiable in the most extreme cases, this section would clearly be overbroad and not justifiable.

It will therefore be interesting to see how the various judges of the Constitutional Court deal with this case.

Concourt arms deal case was always a long shot

This weekend it was reported that President Jacob Zuma told the ANC’s NEC that he had decided to appoint a commission of inquiry into the arms deal to prevent the Constitutional Court from taking charge of the matter and prescribing the terms of reference for him. The Mail & Guardian claimed that the President had told the ANC NEC that the Constitutional Court was set to rule in November on activist Terry Crawford-Browne’s application to force President Zuma to reopen the arms deal investigation and that he therefore had to act in anticipation of a ruling against him.

The Mail & Guardian reported that according to three NEC members, Zuma was aware that the majority of the court’s judges would rule in favour of Crawford-Browne. According to the report, Zuma’s decision has upset some senior members of the ANC, who privately accuse him of taking major decisions without engaging the NEC. Others in the party see the decision as a strategy to embarrass more ANC leaders ahead of the party’s elective conference next year.

This report sounds strange and deeply troubling, to say the least. There are at least three reasons why the report, if true, is cause for serious concern. (Whether the NEC members falsely leaked information to the newspaper is just as likely true as that the President actually said what he was reported to have said.)

First, the Constitutional Court is NOT set to rule against President Zuma in this case by November this year, as the full oral arguments are only set to be heard on 17 November this year. A ruling would therefore only be handed down sometime in 2012 (quite a few months before the ANC’s next elective conference takes place at Mangaung at the end of 2012). Either the journalist got this wrong or President Zuma said something to the NEC that was factually clearly wrong.

Second, the case has not been argued fully before the Constitutional Court yet and has only been set down for argument for 17 November. The judges could therefore not possibly have made up their minds on how to rule, as they are required to keep an open mind until such time as they have heard the oral arguments presented to them. If they had indeed made up their minds and if they had intimated to anyone how they would rule in a case not yet argued before them, they would be acting in a highly improper manner. If there was proof for the statement by the President, it could easily form the basis of a successful recusal application of all those judges who had already made up their minds.

Besides, even if they had made up their minds before oral argument, how on earth would President Zuma have known how the judges viewed the case without having allowed the intelligence services to spy on the judges of the top court or without having somebody – maybe one of the judges on the Constitutional Court – acting as a spy for the President?

This could mean that the statement by President Zuma to the NEC was wrongly reported by the media because the newspaper faked the report or because NEC members leaked false information to it. Or – alternatively – it could mean that the President was either lying to the NEC or that he was admitting to highly improper behaviour on the part of one or more Constitutional Court judges (for making up their minds before a hearing or for leaking confidential information to the President) and/or he was revealing unlawful conduct on the part of the intelligence service.

Either way, this would rightly constitute an enormous scandal. Either the newspaper’s journalist who wrote this story is a deeply unethical and dishonest person in which case that journalist should be fired forthwith (something that seems very unlikely, in my opinion, given the lack of a strong response from the ANC to this report), or the journalist was fed lies by the three NEC members. Alternatively, something really, really scary is happening within our Presidency and lies, deception or at best shocking incompetence and stupidity is the order of the day in that office.

Thirdly, the statement by the President is almost certainly not factually correct. I for one would be quite surprised if a majority of judges of the Constitutional Court were set to rule against the President in terms of the application to force him to institute an arms deal inquiry. In my opinion, the constitutional law arguments (as opposed to ethical arguments or political arguments) in favour of an order by the court to force the President to appoint a commission of inquiry are at best weak and at worst a little absurd.

In papers filed in support of this application, the applicants argue that the refusal by the President to appoint an arms deal inquiry is unconstitutional because the failure is irrational in that it does not serve any legitimate government purpose and is not rationally connected or related to any such purpose. In other words, the applicant relies on a rule of law argument to contend that the Constitution places a positive duty on the President to take a very specific action (namely, to appoint a commission of inquiry into the arms deal).

Usually the rationality test set out above is applied in cases where the President or some other organ of state has done something and it is found that this action was irrational. Here the applicant wants a court to find that a failure to take a specific action was irrational – which is a very difficult argument to make.  In effect, the applicant is arguing that the Constitutional Court should order the President to make a policy decision to give effect to his duties that arise in terms of section 83 and 84 of the Constitution.

Relying upon the founding provisions of section 1 of the Constitution, which states, inter alia, that the Republic of South Africa is founded on the values of the supremacy of the constitution and the rule of law and a multi-party system of democratic government, to ensure accountability, responsiveness and openness and relying further on section 2 which affirms the supremacy of the Constitution, the applicant is contending that if this is read with section 84(2)(f) there is a positive obligation on the President to appoint commissions of inquiry when serious questions arise about large scale corruption and bribery in government. To quote from the papers:

His contention is that under the rule of law foundational to South Africa’s multi-party system of government, the President is obliged to ensure accountability, responsiveness and openness. Conduct inconsistent with these foundational values is invalid. Obligations imposed by the [Constitution], which include the responsibility of the President to appoint a commission of inquiry in the circumstances upon which the applicant relies, must be fulfilled. The refusal to appoint a commission of inquiry is accordingly constitutionally invalid.

It is clear that under section 84 of the Constitution the President has the power to appoint a commission of inquiry. It is also true – as the applicant contends – that this must be read in conjunction with section 83 of the Constitution, which places a duty on the President to uphold, defend and respect the Constitution as our supreme law and requires the President, further, to promote the unity of the nation and that which will advance the Republic.

But it is at best a stretch to then argue that the President cannot accountably and responsively ignore or refuse well founded requests for the appointment of a commission of inquiry in the present circumstances. It is an even greater stretch to imagine that a court will order the President to institute such an inquiry and that it will dictate the terms of reference of the commission of inquiry.

Even though the lack of a credible criminal investigation may lead one to question whether the executive has been serious in the past about uncovering corruption in the arms deal, and even if one can assume that the President has a positive duty in terms of the Constitution to take steps to ensure responsive, accountable and open government, the separation of powers doctrine has so far been relied upon by our courts to limit its interference with policy decisions of this nature which are usually taken by the Executive alone.

A court might well find that there is a positive duty on the President to do something about the allegations of arms deal corruption, but for a court to order the President to appoint a commission of inquiry and then to delineate the terms of reference of that Commission (reportedly the fear that has “forced” the President to make an announcement about the arms deal inquiry) would constitute an extraordinary invasion of the terrain usually occupied not by the courts but by one of the democratically elected branches of government.

It might well be – as the applicants suggests in its papers – that a reasonable apprehension has arisen that the arms deals may be tainted by misfeasance and/or malfeasance, in the forms of irregularities, fraud and corruption. It might also be that (as the applicants argue) this apprehension has arisen because of the criminal convictions of one Tony Yengeni, a former African National Congress (ANC) Chief Whip in parliament, and Schabir Shaik, a businessman and financial adviser to Jacob Zuma, the president of both the country and the ANC.

Interestingly, the applicant also relies upon the call for a commission of inquiry made, albeit obiter by Nicholson J in the case of Zuma and Another. v The National Directory of Public Prosecutions and Others. Recall that this was the case in which Nicholson basically found – based on newspaper articles – that there was some kind of conspiracy or at least a good possibility of a conspiracy – against Jacob Zuma, so maybe this played a role in the President’s thinking. Who knows? 

What I do know is that the case asking the Constitutional Court to order the President to institute an arms deal inquiry was always going to be a long shot. Personally, I would be quite surprised if any judges of the Constitutional Court (let alone a majority of its judges) decided that it was appropriate to order the President to institute such an inquiry. Unlike in the Glennister case where the majority of the Constitutional Court could rely on the fact that a failure to create an independent anti-corruption fighting body infringed on ordinary citizen’s social and economic rights and was also required by our international law obligations, in this case the request by the applicants is so specific that it would be seen as an interference with the powers of the executive. A separation of powers concern would therefore inevitably arise.

Maybe President Zuma “merely” has very bad lawyers advising him about his prospects in the Constitutional Court, or maybe he was duped into appointing this commission of inquiry by people who wrongly told him that the Constitutional Court was likely to order him to institute such an inquiry in any case. Either that, or the President is more wily than we give him credit for and he is playing an incredibly clever but highly risky game in which he is aiming to destroy all his enemies and detractors within the ANC through a carefully constituted arms deal inquiry.

One thing I do know, and that is that the Constitutional Court was highly unlikely to have ruled in favour of Crawford Brown in this case – especially in the terms requested by Crawford Brown in his papers. If the President thought that the Constitutional Court would rule against him, this may say more about the paranoia and incompetence of the President and those who advise him, than about the likely outcome of a case not even yet argued before the Constitutional Court.

The difficult choices facing Chief Justice Mogoeng

The appointment of Chief Justice Mogoeng Mogoeng has elicited much comment, but conceptually the most difficult but also the most interesting aspect of the debate about his suitability for the office of Chief Justice, centres around his obviously sincerely but strongly held religious views. Justice Mogoeng belongs to a church (and is a lay preacher in that church) called Winners Chapel International, which condemns homosexuality as a disease that can be cured. During his interview Justice Mogoeng claimed that God wanted him appointed to the job. He said he prayed and got a sign that “it was the right thing to do”, after President Zuma nominated him.

Section 15 of the South African Constitution states that “[e]veryone has the right to freedom of conscience, religion, thought, belief and opinion”. Should this, then, not mean that the justice Mogoeng’s involvement in his church as a lay preacher and the fact that his church espouses values that are in direct contraventions of Constitution (as the Constitution explicitly protects gay men and lesbians against unfair discrimination and guarantees respect for their inherent human dignity), should not disqualify him to be Chief Justice? After all, if justice Mogoeng cannot become the leader of the judiciary because he belongs to a church which holds deeply demeaning views about a  section of the population explicitly protected by the Constitution, large numbers of judges would be similarly disqualified.

For example, anyone belonging to the Catholic Church, an institution that has its own problems with dealing with child rape and explicitly discriminates against women, would be disbarred from being Chief Justice. And what about members of the Dutch Reformed Church (also known as the NG Kerk), an institution which not so long ago still claimed there was scriptural justification for the policy of apartheid and even today has not managed to unify with its sister churches created during the apartheid era for “coloured” and “african” worshippers? Surely members from these churches should then also be ineligible for the top spot on our judiciary?

Our Constitutional Court has always had difficulty with the matter of religious freedom in cases where it has been called upon to decide how to balance, on the one hand, respect for the religious views and practices of all against, on the other hand, the broader interest of society and the protection of the rights of everyone enshrined in the Constitution. In the Lawrence case, justice Chaskalson, once again borrowing from the Canadian case law, endorsed the view that:

The essence of the concept of freedom of religion is the right to entertain such religious beliefs as a person chooses, the right to declare religious beliefs openly and without fear of hindrance or reprisal, and the right to manifest religious belief by worship and practice or by teaching and dissemination.

This right has both an individual and a collective aspect. As justice Sachs stated in the Christian Education case:

This broad approach highlights that freedom of religion includes both the right to have a belief and the right to express such belief in practice. It also brings out the fact that freedom of religion may be impaired by measures that coerce persons into acting or refraining from acting in a manner contrary to their beliefs. Just as it is difficult to postulate a firm divide between religious thought and action based on religious belief, so it is not easy to separate the individual religious conscience from the collective setting in which it is frequently expressed. Religious practice often involves interaction with fellow believers. It usually has both an individual and a collective dimension and is often articulated through activities that are traditional and structured, and frequently ritualistic and ceremonial.But this is not the end of the matter. As is the case with all rights, freedom of religion can be limited.

These passages seem to suggest that someone like Justice Mogoeng should be allowed to believe what he wishes and also to practice his religion by acting as a lay preacher in his church — no matter how homophobic or sexist (and hence in contravention of the Constitution) the doctrine of that church might be — and that he should not be forced to decide between his right to believe and practice his religion, on the one hand, and his job as Chief Justice, on the other hand. If he were to be forced to choose, so the argument goes, this would entail an attempt at coercing  a person not to believe or practice his religion — something not permitted by our Constitution.

But this is not the end of the matter. Like all other rights contained in the Bill of Rights, the right to freedom of religion is not absolute and can be limited. Thus the Constitution requires each judge to swear the following oath:

I, A.B., swear/solemnly affirm that, as a Judge of the Constitutional Court/Supreme Court of Appeal/High Court/ E.F. Court, I will be faithful to the Republic of South Africa, will uphold and protect the Constitution and the human rights entrenched in it, and will administer justice to all persons alike without fear, favour or prejudice, in accordance with the Constitution and the law.

It therefore requires all religiously devoted judges who belong to any number of mainstream and not so mainstream churches to choose between being faithful to their religious beliefs or being faithful to the Constitution and the human rights enshrined in it. If an individual cannot promise that he would disobey and completely disregard his personal religious beliefs about, say, the perceived god given rights of the man to head the household or the belief that homosexuality is a perversion and a lifestyle choice that can and must be cured by prayer, that individual cannot — in all good conscience — become a judge at all. That is why justice Mogoeng’s failure to provide reasons for his “dissent” in the Dey case appears so troubling. By dissenting but not giving reasons he might well have tried to obey both his judicial oath and the injunctions of his faith — something that was clearly impossible and impermissible to do.

In the Christian Education case — as in many other cases dealing with questions about legislative limitations placed on religious beliefs and practices — the Constitutional Court reverted to the limitation clause to try and balance the interests of believers against the broader interest of society and against the rights contained in the Constitution. In that case a group of Christian schools challenged the provision in the Schools Act which prohibits corporal punishment at school, arguing that the Christian Bible commands teachers to assault learners when learners have broken the rules as the Bible states that if one spares the rod one spoils the child.

In a sensitive and carefully crafted judgment, justice Sachs found that the case required the court to apply the proportionality test as set out in the limitation clause and that the real question was whether the failure to accommodate the religious belief and practice of some by means of the exemption to the ban on corporal punishment in schools could be accepted as reasonable and justifiable in an open and democratic society based on human dignity, freedom and equality. As Sachs pointed out, this balancing of interests will often be very difficult in freedom of religion cases and it is worth quoting Sachs’ judgment in this regard at length:

The most complex problem is that the competing interests to be balanced belong to completely different conceptual and existential orders. Religious conviction and practice are generally based on faith. Countervailing public or private concerns are usually not and are evaluated mainly according to their reasonableness. To the extent that the two orders can be separated, with the religious being sovereign in its domain and the state sovereign in its domain, the need to balance one interest against the other is avoided. However religion is not always merely a matter of private individual conscience or communal sectarian practice. Certain religious sects do turn their back on the world, but many major religions regard it as part of their spiritual vocation to be active in the broader society. Not only do they proselytise through the media and in the public square, religious bodies play a large part in public life, through schools, hospitals and poverty relief. They command ethical behaviour from their members and bear witness to the exercise of power by state and private agencies; they promote music, art and theatre; they provide halls for community activities, and conduct a great variety of social activities for their members and the general public. They are part of the fabric of public life, and constitute active elements of the diverse and pluralistic nation contemplated by the Constitution. Religion is not just a question of belief or doctrine. It is part of a way of life, of a people’s temper and culture.

The result is that religious and secular activities are, for purposes of balancing, frequently as difficult to disentangle from a conceptual point of view as they are to separate in day to day practice. While certain aspects may clearly be said to belong to the citizen’s Caesar and others to the believer’s God, there is a vast area of overlap and interpenetration between the two. It is in this area that balancing becomes doubly difficult, first because of the problems of weighing considerations of faith against those of reason, and secondly because of the problems of separating out what aspects of an activity are religious and protected by the Bill of Rights and what are secular and open to regulation in the ordinary way.

In the Christian Education case, the Constitutional Court found that given the fact that parents could still chastise their children at home, given — further — that the Constitution placed a positive duty on the state to try and create a society free from violence and to protect children from physical and emotional harm, and given the importance of the right of everyone to have their bodily integrity protected and respected, it was not unreasonable to limit the rights of freedom of religion in this limited way. Religious believers who wanted to impose corporal punishment could still do so at home, but the interest of the state to create violence free zones at schools allowed it to ban the practice of corporal punishment in these more public arenas.

I suspect much the same argument could be used regarding justice Mogoeng’s beliefs and his role as a lay preacher in a homophobic church. While he must surely have the right to believe what he wishes about women and homosexuals and why he has every right to be a lay preacher in a church that propagates hatred against homosexuals, he should surely not have a right both to be Chief Justice (requiring him to protect gay men and lesbians from discrimination, hatred and harm) and to remain a lay preacher in his church which does exactly the opposite.

I for one would therefore contend that it would be appropriate for Chief Justice Mogoeng to resign as a lay preacher from his church — at the very least. When it is impossible to serve two gods (the god of one’s religion on the one hand and the “god” that is the supreme Constitution on the other) one surely has an ethical — perhaps even a legal and constitutional — duty to choose the one or the other. If one refuses to choose, one’s integrity and honesty might well come under suspicion.

I am not claiming that such choices will always be easy to make. They will often not be easy at all. Given the sincerity of many people’s religious beliefs (including, clearly, that of Chief Justice Mogoeng), given — further — the often deeply personal and strongly held beliefs many people have about their religion and their church, and given the pull of ambition, status and power that might make contradictory demands on one’s conscience, these decisions might well (in certain cases) be agonising and seemingly impossible to make. But that does not mean that one should not make them if one wishes to live an ethical life.

Thus, if I were ever offered a lucrative position, say, to head a private University in the United States that is funded by the Catholic Church and professes to adhere to the teachings of that church, I will have no choice but to decline that offer — even if it would mean a much larger salary, far more status and more influence and power. Life is not always easy and it is seldom fair — especially to those with strong and inflexible principles and beliefs.

Justice Mogoeng has a difficult choice to make. I trust he will choose well.

A tale of two judges

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way — in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only. - Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

The revealing interview of Justice Mogoeng Mogoeng by the Judicial Service Commission (JSC) this weekend and the subsequent decision of that body to rubber stamp the decision of the President, reminded me of the famous quote from The Tale of Two Cities reproduced above. We saw the best of judges and the worst of judges sparring with each other. As Xolela Mangcu wrote about this tale of two judges:

Moseneke stood as a symbol of authority and Mogoeng as a beneficiary of power. The question is which, then, will be the real leader of the Constitutional Court: authority or power? By nominating Mogoeng, President Jacob Zuma may well have taken our judiciary down a path where power trumps authority.

We also saw some ordinary citizens, perhaps expecting so little from themselves and from our system of government or deciding to go along with the decision of the President so that they would not alienate the government from which they need to receive work in future, cheering on mediocrity and power for power’s sake. We saw other citizens, animated by a belief in the core values embodied by the Constitution and the belief that as South Africans we deserve the best, who were shocked by what they saw, perhaps unrealistically yearning for authority to trump brute power in our political and legal discourse.

We saw some JSC members prepared to walk in the light of reason and to deal with the painful facts and we saw other members skulking in the darkness of unreason and emotions, displaying a remarkable lack of appreciation for the robust nature of openness and accountability in a system that is worth calling a democracy. And as is often the case when reason clashes with unreason, facts did not stand in the way of those who had no rational arguments to make.

Thus, some commentators and JSC Commissioners have questioned the bona fides of those who have asked critical questions about the suitability of the “nominee” to become Chief Justice, claiming that such people were animated by a hatred of the President and never support any decisions of the President or, worse, claiming that such people confronted the facts because they were racists. This is, of course, a lie. When justice Sandile Ngcobo was “nominated” as Chief Justice, many of us (who have asked questions about the suitability of justice Mogoeng’s appointment) enthusiastically supported the nomination of Ngcobo. Although we might have believed that Deputy Chief Justice Dikgang Moseneke was a better person for the job, we did not say so, but sang the praises of the nominee because he was clearly a man of integrity, somebody with a towering intellect, somebody whose judgments have demonstrated that he is imbued with the values of the Constitution.

In the same manner we cheered on the appointment of Deputy Chief Justice Moseneke and of Chief Justice Pius Langa – even if we had our political differences with then President Thabo Mbeki who nominated these candidates (all of whom happened to be black).

I suspect that the interview over the weekend would have been interpreted completely differently by different people, depending on their political views, their knowledge of the law and legal processes, and their ability to get past shallow emotions to a place where facts and reason reside. For the first group, justice Mogoeng might well have emerged as something of a hero, somebody wrongly vilified by nasty people with an axe to grind. After all, the nominee did not come across as the ogre depicted by Zapiro, nor as a bumbling fool, and he passionately, aggressively and sometimes bitterly defended himself against the sharp criticism levelled against his judgements and his judicial philosophy and displayed a moral flexibility much admired in politicians.

I happen to find myself in the second group who was deeply troubled by what emerged at the JSC, based not on emotions but on the facts and an analysis of the issues at hand. In this sense the interview was more revealing than expected.

Justice Mogoeng justified some of his rape judgments and the seemingly patriarchal reasoning employed by him in those judgments by claiming that he was merely following the precedent set by the Supreme Court of Appeal (SCA) to which he was bound as a judge, what I would call “the SCA made me do it” defence. He thus justified his views that women abusers who are “provoked” by the victim deserve leniency, that rapists who know the victim should also be given some leeway, and that child rapists can legitimately be described as having been “tender” to the child he raped because the injuries sustained by the child were not as horrific as in other rape cases, by claiming that this approach is in line with the law. The problem is that these views are not in line with the law as it has developed after the end of apartheid.

These justifications were revealing because they suggested a lack of knowledge of the law and a lack of knowledge and/or lack of respect for the legislature who has spoken quite forcefully on this issue. Thus, in defence of his judgment in S v Moipolai (handed down in 2004, ten years after the advent of democracy) in which Mogoeng stated that it was “highly insensitive of the Appellant firstly, to punch an 8 months pregnant woman, secondly, to punch her so hard that he caused her to fall, and thirdly to punch her because her sense of decency and privacy did not allow her to share the same bed with the father of her children and another woman”, justice Mogoeng relied on a judgment of the SCA in S v N, handed down at the height of apartheid in 1988. In that judgment the Appellate Division (as it was then called), displayed the kind of patriarchal values that was rife amongst apartheid era judges by stating that it was permissible to take into account  as a mitigating factor in sentencing in a rape case that there was an intimate relationship between the rapist and the survivor.

Of course, since 1988 the legal landscape in South Africa was supposed to have changed dramatically. This is what some of us mean when we talk about the “transformative” nature of our legal and constitutional system. We adopted a new Constitution in which the rights of women are now protected. Parliament passed sections 51 and 53 of the Criminal Law Amendment Act 105 in 1997, providing for minimum sentences to be imposed on rapists unless compelling circumstances existed to deviate from this. This was done exactly to prevent judges with patriarchal views from imposing inappropriately lenient sentences on rapist based on criteria that says more about the sexist assumptions of the judge, than on the way in which the survivor might have experienced the rape.

In 2001 the SCA made it clear that knowing the rape survivor would NOT constitute such a compelling circumstance that would allow for a reduction in the minimum sentence. (One could add that ordinarily it should be an aggravating circumstance that the rapist knew the survivor — at least for anyone imbued with the values enshrined in the Constitution – because the effect of being violated in this way by somebody one knew would be devastating for the rape survivor.)

Mogoeng’s justification for his rape judgments is therefore surprising as it suggested that our Chief Justice designate was at the time when these judgments were handed down wholly ignorant of the new legislative environment and the constitutional values embodied by the legislation. It also suggested that the nominee might have been unaware that the SCA had developed our law in this regard to bring it in line with the Constitution and the relevant legislation. Whether ignorance of legal precedent and legislation should be a disqualification for appointment as Chief Justice, I will leave for every reader to decide for him or herself.

Mogoeng’s defence of his “dissent” in the Dey case was perhaps more bizarre and therefore more damaging to his image. Apart from the fact that his defence was less than plausible, it also contained in it a serious admission. Justice Mogoeng claimed that he was given little time to decide on whether he agrees with the other judges of the Constitutional Court that it would never per se constitute defamation to call somebody gay. He did not give reasons for “dissenting” from this view, Mogoeng claimed, because he had not really had time to apply his mind to the issue at hand.

This argument — if indeed true — appears more like an admission of a dereliction of duty on the part of the nominee than as an exculpation for not providing reasons. Surely when a judge sits on the Constitutional Court and indicates that he or she disagrees with the opinion of colleagues and if he or she is then asked to provide reasons for the disagreement but refuses to provide such reasons, one would assume that the judge did apply his mind to the matter but decided for strategic or other reasons not to provide reasons for the disagreement. Can one ever indicate disagreement with others without having applied one’s mind to an issue? To me it sounds a bit like claiming to be half pregnant — not something widely accepted as possible amongst doctors or people with any knowledge of the human body. How could one possibly indicate a disagreement without having thought about why one is disagreeing? To me, at least, this explanation makes no sense and does not ring true.

When one is a judge and is required to decide where one stands on all the important issues before the court, one is required to apply one’s mind to all the issues at hand and if one disagrees with the majority judgement on any issue one is required to provide reasons for this disagreement. A failure to apply one’s mind to the issues at hand would suggest that one has failed to live up to one’s judicial oath of office and, in effect, that one has refused to do one’s job properly.

I imagine that for many non-lawyers justice Mogoeng’s defence might ring true. After all, we have all been in situations where we have been pressed for time and have not given an issue as much thought as one would have liked to. As a member of a tea club one might well have failed to form an opinion on whether the dues of members should be increased or not. But the difference is of course that most of us are not judges and are not required by the Constitution to uphold the law, to apply our minds to the issues raised by a case before us and to provide reasons for our decision.

And what happens now? I have heard talk of civil society groups challenging the constitutionality of the process followed by the JSC on the grounds that the JSC had failed to engage in proper consultation with the President on this issue as required. It is argued that this is so because the JSC had decided that it was impermissible for it to consider whether other candidates may have been more suited for the position. How can there be a meaningful exchange of ideas if the one party exchanging ideas sees its role in such narrow terms, some have asked? This is a plausible, perhaps even strong, legal argument.

However, I am not sure it would be in the interest of the judiciary or the Constitutional Court for this matter to be litigated as it might further damage the credibility of our judiciary. Long drawn out litigation may well turn into a highly politicised and partisan matter, pitting staunch defenders of the President and the candidate against those who believe the JSC must act as a check on the exercise of power by the President when he appoints a Chief Justice.

While it would be good to get some clarity about the meaning of the constitutional provision requiring that the President must consult the JSC BEFORE appointing a Chief Justice, a legal challenge will probably ultimately not change anything as it will be based on procedure and not substance and will not necessarily lead to a different outcome — given the fact that the President does have the constitutional power to appoint a Chief Justice. Would it be possible to approach a court to give clarity on this legal point without asking for the decision of the JSC or the President to be set aside? I am not a procedural lawyer, so I am not sure how to answer this question.

In any event, President Zuma will now appoint Mogoeng Mogoeng as the new Chief Justice, despite the fact that the nominee has been tainted — to some degree, at least — by the process of his appointment. (Depending one one’s view, the nominee would have been tainted either by the “vicious attacks” against and “onslaught” on him by dark forces, or tainted by the close scrutiny of his judicial views and temperament.)

My fervent hope is that the new Chief Justice will be able to demonstrate through his words and deeds over the next ten years that those of us who asked critical questions about his appointment and about his values and commitment to the Constitution have been mistaken. Maybe the gruelling process may have allowed the nominee to reflect more seriously on his commitment to gender equality and the dignity of gay men and lesbians and might have brought a change of heart. Maybe he might have realised that he ought not to rely on his personal religious views — as far as they clash directly with the values enshrined in the Constitution – when he considers cases coming before his court. I, for one, will keep an open mind.

Interview with justice Mogoeng – live blog

I am attending the JSC interview with justice Mogoeng and will blog on proceedings. Refresh your browser for updates.

10:15 – Time for a break. I have another appointment so sadly won’t be able to blog on rest of interview.

10:10 – Mogoeng says he understand President might have considered other judges but chose him and somebody had to make themselves available so that work of the judiciary could go ahead. Denies that he has personal ambition.

10:05 – Ngoepe runs through all those who support the nomination. Probably trying to counter the submissions of COSATU and others who criticised the nomination.

10:55 – Smuts asks if civil society have the right and duty to raise questions about Mogoeng’s judicial approach. Mogoeng says gender groupings and others must be encouraged to be vigilant, but all he was questioning was that these institutions were not balanced in their criticism.

10:50 – Adv Smuts asks why Mogoeng followed a 1988 judgment of SCA in rape case when Constitution was adopted in 1994 and minimum sentencing legislation was adopted in 1997. Refers to SCA judgments of 2001 which rejected the Mogoeng argument that it might be a mitigating factor when the rapist knew the victim or was intimately involved with her. Was it sound to refer to 1988 case instead of 2001 judgment? Good question! Mogoeng says one does not always come across all the authorities that are relevant. So he admits that he was wrong (and in effect, that he did not know the judgments of the SCA), but says the fact that he ignored 2001 judgment does not show that he has a sexist mindset. Moseneke follows up and points out that anyone alive to the new values embodied by the Constitution and the legislation could not have made the judgement Mogoeng did and that the judgment was therefore not jurisprudentially sound. Moseneke asks why Mogoeng did not follow the authorities? Moseneke also points out that Mogoeng relied on facts of previous cases instead of the ration decidendi, seems to give Mogoeng a bit of a lecture on how to be a judge.

10:45 Minister Jeff Radebe once again mentioned the “attacks” on Mogoeng. Says there is nothing wrong for a prosecutor being appointed as an acting judge (something that judgments in other jurisdictions have found to be in contravention of the independence of the judiciary). As prosecutors are independent, they can act as judges. This ignores questions about whether such a prosecutor should hear criminal cases when he or she is invested in successful prosecution of accused persons.

10:38 – Prof Schlemmer asks whether JSC and whether it should not appoint better judges to start with, entering a political minefield as this line of questioning can easily be interpreted by some as suggesting that transformation leads to problems. Mogoeng says he would be reluctant to engage with the question.

10:35 – Prof Schlemmer notes that in Germany they want to pass legislation to hold the state liable if a judgment is not delivered within 5 months. Mogoeng says JSC must make sure that there are training opportunities for judges, suggesting that better training would stop delays of handing down of judgments (which can be up to seven years – as Ngcobo stated on another occasion). Suggests training will solve the problem, not disciplinary action against judges who fail to write judgments.

10:28 – Being asked about accountability of judges and the role of CJ in this. Sometimes there is an overemphasis on the independence of judiciary, one should strike a balance between this and accountability. Asked about CJ’s role in disciplining judges i.t.o. JSC Act. Mogoeng says that now that we have the structures in place, we must make sure that these structures get on with its task. Mogoeng says he would not go so far as saying that a judge should be removed if he or she does not deliver judgments in time. Depends on the facts of a particular case.

10:11 – Chohan asks about UCT’s DGRU submission which developed criteria for Chief Justice. One of the criteria is the ability of candidate to lead the Constitutional Court itself. She asks about the esteem he is held by his colleagues at the CC and Mogoeng states that he “has a sound relationship” with his colleagues, not answering whether he is held in esteem by them.

10:05 – Asked why law made by courts seem to differ than from law made by Parliament on rape as former suggests that one should make a distinction between rape of someone known to victim and someone who is not, correctly in my view, suggesting that our courts more generally do not always treat rape in a way that is acceptable or should be acceptable. Deputy Minister Fatima Chohan asks about minimum sentences, pointing out that Parliament has now made clear that knowledge of victim is not compelling reason not to give a minimum sentence. Not sure if she is criticising the nominee who has suggested that it should be a reason to treat rape differently depending on the relationship – despite the minimum sentencing laws. Is she suggesting that Mogoeng did not obey the law as passed by Parliament but rather followed the SCA judgments and hence did not respect the separation of powers? The sentencing laws were passed in 1997, before Mogoeng handed down some of his controversial judgments.

9:53 – Moseneke asks about Mogoeng’s views and that of his church about other religions and their right to exist. Mogoeng says his church is Christian in nature, guided by the holy bible. Other faiths have their own books. There will always be points of disagreement between faiths. Mogoeng suggests that his views might differ from that of his church and that he would be guided by the Constitution as one should not confuse your personal beliefs and the fundamental rights of everyone, thus suggesting that when he is a judge he will not follow the dictates of his church.

9:47 – Asked how he would manage to be CJ given the widespread opposition to his nomination. Mogoeng states that the criticism related to three judgments only (suggesting other rape judgments did not demonstrate gender insensitivity) but now he has had opportunity to show this is not as shocking as it may appear and people will accept that. He says he will reach out to those who criticised him because if ANC and NP could agree to act for best of country, so could others.

9:39 – Some Commissioners trying to stop further questioning of Mogoeng on issues raised before (rape judgments etc) and is supported by others like Deputy Minister Ramatlhodi.

9:34 – Asked about rape judgments and the “point of departure” of judge Mogoeng who suggested that but for the presence of another person the rapist would have had sex with the survivor. Mogoeng again blames the SCA for his views. Still says that because complainant knew the rapist the effect of the rape could not have been so serious.

9:26 – Asked about number of reported judgments, but Mogoeng says he cannot remember how many. Asked again about his Dey “dissent” in which he never gave any reasons. It is suggested that he did not apply his mind to the case at hand, which is something a judge should never do.

9:22 – Being asked about the right to health care and the NHI scheme now.  Mogoeng says that that people are fairly satisfied with health services as it has improved.

9:17 – Being asked about competition law now. Judge Dennis Davis might have loved to answer this question but Mogoeng declines to comment due to possibility that such a matter might come before the court.

9:05 – Sunday morning and back at the hearing. Discussion about the devastating COSATU submission which suggests that Mogoeng might not be fit to serve as a judge.

First impressions of the interview: Given the sustained criticism of the nominee by a wide range of civil society organisations, including ANC-aligned COSATU and Nadel, the nominee probably performed better than expected. Although his defensive and emotional defence of his record in his opening statement did not appear judicial and at times sounded more like the response of a politician than a Chief Justice, I would guess that it might have garnered some sympathy from many South Africans watching the interview on TV. Evidence of his quick temper — rebuking the Chair of the JSC for perceived sarcasm and often bristling under sustained questioning from the more critical members of the JSC – might well have diminished his stature with many lawyers and members of the judiciary, but probably also garnered some sympathy among those not well versed with the ways of the judiciary.

The nominee made some excellent points, and his statement that the government should change its briefing patterns in order to assist black and women practitioners to gain the necessary experience to prepare them for appointment to the bench is well taken. (I would argue that anyone interested in the independence and credibility of our judiciary — including attorneys working in big law firms — could also take this need for a change in briefing patterns to heart.)

However, his answers to criticism of his rape judgments were not convincing. He never explained why he thought that it might be a mitigating factor that a rapist is married to or intimately involved with the survivor or why he could say that it was a mitigating factor that the man who assaulted his partner by dragging her behind his car was “provoked” by the victim. Mere platitudes about support for women’s rights will not dispel concerns about the patriarchal views of the nominee regarding women.

His explanation for the non-writing of a judgment in which he disagreed with the judgment that it can never be per se defamatory to call somebody gay was also not convincing. Surely his colleagues would have asked him to provide reasons for his dissent and surely one only dissents when one has reason to? The contention that he did not have time to think about whether he agreed with this judgment and that even today he has not formed a clear view on this issue, is quite frankly, bizarre. It is difficult not to conclude that he decided that being gay is so awful that it would always be defamatory to call somebody gay but that he could not provide reasons to that effect because that would have contradicted the very provisions of the Constitution which he had sworn to uphold. In the end Justice Mogoeng indicated that he might well now have signed on to that judgment, suggesting that he was prepared to change his views — at least in public – if his views became too controversial and would hamper his ambitions – not a characteristic that one would want from a Constitutional Court judge or any judge for that matter.

The JSC’s performance was mixed. The ANC members often appeared to want to answer questions for the nominee and bent over backwards to show their support for him, while some of the more critical questioners probably did their cause more harm than good by asking questions in a tone that was overtly aggressive. Justice Moseneke was an active chairperson and asked some pointed questions of the nominee, providing hints that there might be some tension between him and the nominee. Sometimes the tension between them was palpable. Other questioners posed the difficult questions and allowed the nominee to respond to the sustained criticism against his record, but some questioners seem to suggest that it was close to treason to ask critical questions about a nominee, referring to the criticism as “vicious attacks” and as an “onslaught”, suggesting that they were uncomfortable with democracy, which allows for a sustained scrutiny of the decisions of a President.

The impression left was that the President had already appointed Mogoeng and that the consultation with the JSC was little more than a charade. Some JSC members seem to think that all they have to decide is whether the nominee has the requisite legal qualifications and is fit and proper – not whether he is a good choice or the best choice, suggesting that it saw the JSC as little more than a rubber stamp of the President’s decision except in cases where the President would want to appoint, say a Charter accountant with a serious criminal record as Chief Justice.

A last question: would the submission from COSATU, which suggested that perhaps Mogoeng should never have been appointed as a judge, make any difference to the proceedings? The answer is that it probably would not as the ANC members and Presidential appointees on the JSC have already decided to support the nomination.

17:09 – The meeting is adjourned until tomorrow at 9h00. Will continue then.

16:45 – Adv Smuts asks Mogoeng about the dinner Mogoeng had with Jacob Zuma where he met the President. Mogoeng states that this was the first and last time he spoke to President Zuma – except when he attended the heads of courts conference and at the judges conference. And the fourth time was when he went to the President’s house to be formally asked to become Chief Justice. Of course, this phrasing would give some ammunition to those who wish to challenge the process as it sounds as if the decision had been made to appoint Mogoeng before consultation took place and that the consultation is completely irrelevant. Maybe the nominee just misspoke on this score?

16:44 – Asked about whether he would prefer the greater good of society above the rights of the individual, but Mogoeng declines to comment.

16:36 – Mogoeng asked about why he was selected and not one of the more experienced candidates. When Moseneke was appointed Deputy Chief Justice, says Mogoeng, other judges on the CC were more senior but they were not appointed and no one complained. Mogoeng sounds bitter about the criticism raised about his “nomination” as he claims the tenor of the discussion about him changed after he was “nominated”: first he was mentioned as a possible candidate but when he was nominated people said he was not suitable, which makes no sense.

16:32 – Ngoepe raises the question of the CC hearing the case about the extension of the term of office of the Chief Justice. Mogoeng says he felt “very uncomfortable” sitting in that case (but not uncomfortable enough to recuse himself, it seems). Sounds as if Ngoepe is indirectly having a go at Moseneke.

16:24 – Ngoepe asks about the rape judgments. It appears as if he is coming to the nominees assistance, saying that a judge must list the mitigating factors when he sentences a rapist. The question of whether one should rely on the fact that the women “aroused” the rapist or provoked him as mitigating factors, is avoided.

16:15 – No matter what happens, I think it is a good thing that there is an open hearing after civil society was given the opportunity to express their views. Cosatu made a submission at the last minute which was surprisingly critical of the nominee stating that: “It is disturbing that even if NOT successful Justice Mogoeng will remain on the bench as an ordinary Constitutional Court judge. Whereas the reality is that questions as to his fitness and appropriateness to serve as a judge on ANY court, let alone the Constitutional Court, raises serious concerns as to the nature and the rigour of the original process that enabled him to ascend to the bench.” Those who claim that the nominee has been treated badly seems to miss the point (apart from the cartoon of Zapiro, which I believe was completely out of line).

15:55 – Tea break. So far the interview, after a slow start, has been quite revealing. Justice Mogoeng is being subjected to serious questioning and there has been flashes of anger and irritation coming from him. This puts the rather emotional and defensive opening statement in some perspective. The ANC aligned Commissioners seem to have made up their minds and are trying to protect the nominee. But am I the only person who cringes when white Commissioners question Mogoeng on his experience? It can easily come across as arrogant and runs the risk of sounding racially insensitive.

15:45 – Ngoepe now jumps in and says that it is also wrong for son or daughter to appear before judge. Of course, this is a very good point. But two wrongs obviously do not make a right.

15:34 – Minister Radebe refers to Constitution, which refers to minimum qualifications for appointment as a judge, suggesting that Mogoeng has the MINIMUM qualifications for the job, obviously not setting the bar very high. Now Radebe walking Mogoeng through the failure of the nominee to recuse himself when his wife prosecuted the case and providing the answers to justify this lapse, making it unnecessary for Mogoeng to make his own case. We all know where he stands on this nomination (just as we now know where Moseneke stands on the nominee). Moseneke asks whether there is a difference between a son and a wife when it comes to whether one should recuse oneself. Mogoeng says no: the perception would be the same. In others words, his defence is that others did the wrong thing so when I did the wrong thing I should not be judged for it. Moseneke now makes this very point!

15:30 – Mogoeng asked about how he was received by other judges of CC. They did not necessarily reach out to me.

15:20 – Moseneke jokes that “I am not at all close to the President, indeed, I am not”! This is turning into the Moseneke and Mogoeng show. The electricity between the two (in a negative sense) is palpable.

15:15 – Moseneke asks whether he would have written differently now, would he have said that the man (the rapist) was allowed to be aroused because women was scantily clad. Mogoeng says: “maybe, I would have changed my decision…..”

15:08 – Now asked about the child rape judgment where Mogoeng stated that the rapist had a “tender approach” towards the child. Mogoeng says he was not treating the injury of girl child in insensitive manner but one gets different degrees of violation in rape cases and one must make this distinction. Moseneke mentions the submissions of women’s groups which pointed out that the judgments included myths about rape not in line with gender sensitivity. Mogoeng again relies on SCA. He says SCA reasoning was the same as his. In other words, his defence is: the SCA made me do it.

15:04 – Mogoeng says when he gave the rape judges he was young and he looked at SCA judgments, and finds it problematic that people just focus on the fact that he had mentioned the relationship between the parties as a mitigating factor.

15:01 – Now being asked about whether Mogoeng sees difference between rape and marital rape. Mogoeng now states that he sees rape as rape. Asked whether being married to the victim is a mitigating factor. Mogoeng states he relied on SCA and says marital state is not the only or decisive factor in sentencing. He is trying to skirt the question because the judgement referred to by questioner clearly shows that Mogoeng does make a distinction between marital rape and other forms of rape. As Moseneke mentions all the shocking rape judgments, Mogoeng looks less than happy.

15:00 – Koos van der Merwe asks about Mogoeng’s temper and why he told Moseneke not to be sarcastic: “It is the first time in 15 years that an applicant has been so arrogant”. Mogoeng apologises to Moseneke for losing his temper. Well, this is not boring.

14:50 – Adv Smuts now asks him about appointment of acting judges from ranks of the prosecution service: is this not infringement of separation of powers. Mogoeng says he has only applied his mind superficially but “it is an option worth exploring”. Not an impressive answer as the candidate is skirting the issue. Mogoeng reminds me of Zuma: friendly, pliant and very vague and not really thoughtful enough to answer some of the difficult questions. Moseneke pushes the point, saying this is a very vital issue for the independence of the judiciary, so he is suggesting Mogoeng is not really a person who has sufficient concern for this independence.

14:45 – Now being asked why he has no publications and so few reported cases. Mogoeng says he has no passion for writing articles. He suggests that some judgments were not reported for reasons that are not clear.

14:40 – Moseneke now pursues this very question. Mogoeng seems to skirt the question as he seems to suggest that because he did not have time he did not give reasons and now he claims that he does not have a view on this now. Mogoeng is angry and calls Moseneke sarcastic because Moseneke presses him and does not allow him to skirt the issue. Mogoeng now claims that he would have not dissented! In other words, he is disavowing his previous views on this issue by pretending that he never had real views on the matter to start with. Wow! Not very consistent or principled. There is clearly some tension between Moseneke and Mogoeng.

14:36 – Now being asked about the Dey case and about not writing a dissent. Mogoeng says he should have provided reasons. Someone should ask him what these reasons would have been.

14:30 – Is being asked now about chairing JSC and whether it is doing its job. He talks about briefing patterns and why government often only briefs white counsel and the need to change this. This is a good point, but what a Chief Justice can do about this is not clear.

13:30 – Moseneke asks that if CJ is intellectual leader, then must convince us that you have that intellect. but now it is lunch first.

13:23 – Lex Mpati, President of SCA asks about the relationship between JP’s and the CJ as well as about President Zuma’s statement in which he told judiciary not to make policy. Mogoeng says that judiciary must be independent from other branches of government and lobby groups, but must know it’s role is not boundless. Problem arises when judges determine policy.

13:16 – Adv Madlanga asks about how CC colleagues feel about his appointment. Mogoeng says any CC judge might want to be CJ but no judge on CC would not cooperate because of disappointment about not being appointed. Good answer.

13:07 – Adv Fourie asks about court structure and the question about whether CC should become apex court as well as about office of Chief Justice. Mogoeng talks about JP’s, basically saying same thing as in previous interview. Talks about need for CC to have sifting mechanism to select only really important cases.

13:00 – Minister Radebe talks about a “vicious campaign” against Mogoeng and asks whether he would be able to carry his colleagues with him and provide examples of this. The ultimate sweetheart question. Mogoeng says he has confidence of colleagues as at judges conference he was asked to oversee implementation of decisions taken there. Moseneke says: one thing to run a conference another to be Chief Justice.

12:45 – Ms Boroto asks about access to the judiciary; how would you ensure access to justice for all? Justice Mogoeng says he invited traditional leaders, religious leaders and civil society to conferences to discuss these issues and he believes traditional courts could play a role here. (Gender activists will of course be rather nervous about this proposal as traditional courts are by their very nature patriarchal.) M states that such courts could be trained so that they actually adhere to the Constitutional imperatives of gender equality.

12:20 – Judge President Bernard Ngoepe now asking questions, calling the criticism against Mogoeng “an onslaught” and making a longwinded speech. Says that JSC members have an open mind about the issue.

11:46 – So, finally Mogoeng’s statement is coming to an end and he claims again that he is neither homophobic nor gender insensitive.

11:40 – On freedom of expression, he states that this right must be exercised with reference to dignity. His concerns have been vindicated by some of the cartoons about him. This suggest that the judge believes Zapiro cartoons about him are defamatory.

11:27 – Now dealing with why he prosecuted people on behalf of the Bophutatswana bantustan. He got a bursary from that government, despite organizing a protest on June 16 and being dismissed from school for it. Bursary required him to become a prosecutor.

11:24 – Justice Mogoeng seems to have an uncanny strategy – wear down critics by droning on for so long that no one would ask difficult questions.

11:14 – He refers to the appointment of John Roberts as Chief Justice of the USA when he was only 50 years old. Maybe not the best example as Roberts is a far right-wing judge and was appointed by the bumbling George W Bush. But I agree that his age is not a very convincing reason for not appointing Mogoeng as Chief Justice.

11:10 – Quotes from a male rape case which, perhaps inadvertently, underlines that he sees this kind of rape as more disgusting than the rape of a woman.

11:07 – On the Dey case he states that he refused to sign on to aspect of judgement which states it cannot be per se defamatory to call someone gay, Muslim or Christian. If this is to be believed he is saying that it would often be defamatory to call someone a Christian.

11:03 – On homophobia M states that he has constitutional right to freedom of religion and that his church is no different from other churches, based on the idea that man must marry a woman and not another man. In effect, he says that he endorses homophobia of his church but that this is no different from homophobia of other churches.

11:00 – M is reading his document of more than 40 pages in which he attempts to justify his various judgements on rape and other controversial judgements.

11:00 – M reads from judgement where he stated that it was “highly insensitive” of a man to punch and rape his eight month old girlfriend. I would not call it insensitive, I would call it brutal and callous.

10:50 – Now discusses the various controversial gender violence cases. Says accused who dragged his girlfriend behind his car was given a suspended sentence so that he could be put on terms. Minister Rbadebe talks about the viscous attacks on Mogoeng.

10:45 – M: It is unfair and disingenuous to use 3 cases out of 10 to argue that I am not sensitive to gender violence. He mentions cases where he imposed heavy sentences on the men who were convicted of rape.

10:40 – M makes opening statement. Talks about legal philosophy and commits himself to Constitution and it’s values.

10:28 – Decided that Justice Mogoeng will be interviewed first, and he takes his seat.