LONDON likes to boast to the world that Britain is a model rule of law nation. History rubbishes this claim very easily. But we needn't dig that deep to show how Britain buries truth and justice.
Two modern day examples will do. One is a proposed law that bans all legal investigations into British military atrocities in the decades-old Northern Ireland conflict.
The second is the Overseas Operations (Service Personnel and Veterans) Act (2021 Act), which took effect in April.
Start with the law in the making. Prime Minister Boris Johnson's government is proposing an end-of-the-year legislation that will halt all prosecutions of British soldiers and militants involved in the conflict in Northern Ireland.
Often referred to as "the Troubles", the three-decade conflict was bitterly fought between Catholics and Protestants. If the law is passed as proposed, it will be a sweeping amnesty for British armed forces involved in some of the most brutal killings there. Everyone but Johnson's cabinet ministers is up in arms. And rightly so.
For one, Britain will be in "flagrant violation of its international obligation", say United Nations Special Rapporteurs Fabian Salvioli and Morris Tidball-Binz in a statement issued in Geneva.
The UN experts were of the view that the British government cannot "foreclose the pursuit of justice and accountability" thus as it will thwart "victims' rights to truth and to an effective remedy for the harm suffered".
Johnson's government, in its blind pursuit of British impunity at home and abroad, thinks criminal justice impedes the search for truth, information recovery and reconciliation. As Salvioli and Tidball-Binz point out, such justification "conflates reconciliation with impunity".
We agree. The search for truth and reconciliation must go hand-in-hand with the criminal justice process. Britain cannot pick and choose its way out of justice.
Perhaps British Bar Council member and Secretary of State for Northern Ireland Brandon Lewis, who introduced the proposal in Parliament, needs to be reminded of an old English legal principle: Justice must not only be done, but must be seen to be done.
The 2021 Act, our second example, is an earlier instance of British impunity being dressed up as law. English law can at times be an ass, but not as asinine as this.
Like the proposed law for Northern Ireland, the 2021 Act introduces a statute of limitation — five years — beyond which no prosecution is possible. Even if new evidence is discovered. Criminal law isn't supposed to work like this.
Lawyers will tell us how difficult it is to gather evidence of massacre, rape and other atrocities perpetrated by invading forces. Five years will pass in no time. And if it doesn't, the British administration will make sure none will be found as non-governmental organisations are alleging in Northern Ireland.
Britain claims the 2021 Act is to prevent fraudulent and frivolous claims against the armed forces. But aren't the courts there to take care of this? Sadly, the reaction to the 2021 Act was rather muted.
Except for a few in the British legal fraternity who expressed some grave concerns, there was hardly any meaningful opposition to the law.
There was neither a Savioli nor a Tidball-Binz to shout "flagrant violation of its international obligation" from the UN, despite Afghanistan and Iraq being members of the world body. Britain's message to the world is this: it doesn't really care for the rule of law.