Ista est lex: On the origin of species

In the vastness of the universe, there’s a place unlike any other. Often hidden from the common mortal eyes. Here, evolution is proceeding at a spectacularly slow pace. It is next to none.

The bulging red eyes of the prisoner are in stark mismatch with the neat and blue uniform of the police officers escorting him. He carries with him the humid and damp smell of his prison cell which dissipates in the atmosphere and gets mixed with the burnt wax used to secure the exhibits opened in court. The saccade noise of the relatives weeping is almost in perfect synchronisation with the nervous crackle of the silver handcuffs on the prisoner’s wrists. 

The violent red violent colour of the robe of the judge brings reminiscences of the severed dead body of the victim. The Barrister’s gown as dark as the shiny boots of the escorting officers acts as a reminder of the solemnity of the place. One can almost smell adrenaline mixed with crude sweat on the polished wood. An array of colours, a kaleidoscope of mixed scents, a panorama of life, breathing, living and surviving is here more obvious and devious than in the African savannah, the tundras of Alaska, the abyss of the most remote seas or the sanctuary of the Galapagos islands. Ferrat and Armstrong could have found there ample lyrics to describe the world in its exquisite natural state. From rare phenomena to outright weirdos, bizarre happenings still beyond scientific knowledge and understanding, the spectacle is like an incessant waltz. This is the Assizes!

This is a place of wonders and misunderstanding. The sleeping usher nodding off on his chair to the nonchalant and monotonous submission of state counsel is like the sloth about to fall off the branch but is in fact thankfully glued to it.

Some animals are tiny and aggressive whilst others are big and not too wise. The wise is always kind and is a rare species. Watch the alpha male and territorial judge display his dominance over the herd by tapping on his desk and silencing the Barrister with a loud roar at the top of his voice. This exercise is not an act of superiority but rather a defence mechanism to mark his territory faced what he perceives as a threat. The big ones bask under the sun. The have a longer life span than the advocates which makes them amongst the most long-lived of all the legal profession. Many would recycle into alternative fields after the judiciary life: At the bigger mating grounds of Geneva or New York. Others would passively sit on some commission. Natural selection at its best.

At the Bar, see the flamboyant and narcissist Barrister putting his two hands on his back to look like a majestic bird displaying its wings. This is precise exercise just like the hedgehog would magnify itself under attack. The hands on the back would swell the barrister’s gown. Many a bat would fancifully think of themselves as being eagles. And then, like a wild rooster, he would go on and on repeating the same lines until he is stopped by the judge chasing him away.

In the witness box, hanging two metres above the ground, lies a police officer. He is a unique species with distinct characteristics. Just like the leaf litter frog of southern Brazil, he would play possum under attack and would then step down from the witness box and leave the courtroom grinning like a hyena having fooled everyone with such mastery skills. This species is arguably the one which always walks unscathed from the arena. And he has enough skills to do it over and over again. The frantic frisking of the Barrister cross examining him is most of the time futile and a waste of time. Even if he faces a storm, blizzard or tornadoes and stumbles, he rarely ever falls. Because he only plays dead until the storm is over.

On the other side, there is the State Counsel and juniors. They act as a pack with definite individual roles. They hunt together because one individual is never strong enough. They usually prey on the weakest links and they can be deadly. 

And in the right there, the jury box. Most of the time, they are like a herd of sheep who do not really know what trail to follow. It is the herd mentality rather than individual thinking. The defence lawyer wants to be the pack leader as much as the prosecuting counsel. The judge thinks he can lead the jury too. Here, the winner takes it all and carries it prey away to devour.

The accused is the prey that each one of those creatures will be feeding on. Let’s face it. He is at the bottom of the food chain. He is the plankton of the Assizes. And everyone will to have a piece of him one way or the other.

There have been many experiments in human nature here, for life has been ended so many times in isolation with the passing of a sentence and these experiments have produced extraordinary and totally unexpected results. Yet, one thing is certain, that some genes are being passed on without mutation. Evolution is alien here.

And of course, there is a mystery that has never been answered in this primeval melting pot. Something that is almost mystical and alien to this place. What if there is no more plankton? Nobody wants to ask this question. Does anyone really want this to happen? Gosh, the food chain might crumble… Shush!!! That is the word nobody wants to hear. Let us all feast quietly.

Ah! The Assizes… is like travelling back into my childhood memories of “The Jungle Book” by Rudyard Kipling. Of course, it is but the fruit of my imagination and there exists no such places, Judges or Barristers in this jun…huh…jurisdiction.