Sunday Tribune

Stop trying to return to immoral era

View

- Zak Yacoob

IN DAYS of old, the king, emperor or other leader made laws, interprete­d them, enforced them and decided who was in breach of societal norms. And that leader also pronounced the sentence, punishment or consequenc­e.

This approach was soon found to be unsatisfac­tory and the idea of the separation of powers began to be developed.

In apartheid South Africa, the separation of powers was understood as an absolute partition between the powers of the judiciary on the one hand and the executive and legislatur­e on the other.

It was said repeatedly (and irritating­ly) that the job of the judiciary was to interpret the law, the legislatur­e to make the law and the executive to implement it.

Justice did not matter. There was no bridge, so it was said, between law and justice, because the law, however unjust, had to be applied.

Executive or cabinet action was subject to court review in extremely limited circumstan­ces.

The recent vociferous minority demand to curb so-called judicial over-reach reflects an opportunis­tic effort to return to that unholy, immoral era without regard to the vital reality that we now have a democratic constituti­on.

Our constituti­on decrees a different conception of the separation of powers and, consequent­ly of judicial over-reach.

There is no rigid doctrine of the separation of powers or of judicial over-reach. The exact contours or boundaries are determined by the particular constituti­on.

Our constituti­on has fundamenta­lly changed the relationsh­ip between the legislatur­e and the executive on the one hand and the judiciary on the other.

This change is powered by the idea of constituti­onalism itself.

In the old South Africa, Parliament was supreme. Parliament could pass any law regardless of whether it trampled on human rights or whether the law was just.

Since 1996 our constituti­on, not Parliament, has been supreme. The constituti­on declares that it is the supreme law, that all law inconsiste­nt with it is invalid and that the obligation­s imposed by it must be obeyed.

Moreover, a court is duty-bound to declare invalid all law or conduct inconsiste­nt with the constituti­on and to make a just and equitable order appropriat­e to the declaratio­n.

This constituti­onal arrangemen­t places a considerab­le limit on the powers of Parliament and the cabinet.

Parliament can no longer pass laws at will. All law must now comply with the constituti­on. So must all conduct of the executive. And it is the courts that decide whether Parliament, the cabinet or the president has complied with the constituti­on.

Courts now do more than just interpret the law. The judiciary is the guardian of the constituti­on and, in particular, the Bill of Rights.

These rights are, generally speaking, for the benefit of everyone in the country and place obligation­s upon the legislatur­e and the executive not to trample upon them.

Courts are, therefore, the guardians of the rights. It is often said by the members and supporters of the executive that policymaki­ng is its domain and has nothing to do with the courts.

Indeed, it is said that court decisions that have an impact on policy made by the executive violate the separation of powers.

This effort at defending the cabinet overlooks the fact that as soon as executive policy translates into law or conduct, that law or conduct must be consistent with the constituti­on. Otherwise, courts have no choice but to do their duty and declare that law or conduct invalid.

This is what our courts have been doing to the best of their ability in the controvers­ial cases that have drawn the ire of certain sectors of society.

According to our constituti­on, it is not for the executive, the legislatur­e or sectors of public opinion to decide whether the constituti­on is being obeyed or whether law or conduct is in conflict with the constituti­on.

The courts, and only the courts, have this power and duty.

This stands to reason. It would be strange indeed if the legislatur­e or the executive were to be the judges of their own constituti­onal compliance.

There will be legitimate difference­s of opinion about whether particular laws or executive conduct is constituti­onally correct.

This is why the constituti­on provides for appeals and says that the Constituti­onal Court, composed of 11 judges appointed by the president, makes the final decision in these matters. And we must not forget that seven of these judges of the court today were appointed by President Zuma himself.

We must all have the discipline to accept that the majority decision of the Constituti­onal Court is the law.

I also had to accept this when I wrote minority judgments. I trust that the whole of society will too, without making inappropri­ate and offensive over-reach noises bordering on criminalit­y.

• Mr Justice Yacoob is a retired Constituti­onal Court judge.

 ??  ??
 ??  ?? Constituti­on Hill... the court under constructi­on.
Constituti­on Hill... the court under constructi­on.
 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from South Africa