An excerpt from the Bar Council’s Daniel O’Connell Memorial Lecture by Justice Mohamed Othman last week
I PROPOSE to focus on a handful of key issues in genocide and war crimes trials, drawing attention to key challenges and the limitations in this process and as experienced by the Rwanda tribunal.
The prime challenge, and indeed the entry point for any prosecuting attorney or defence counsel involved in genocide and war crimes trials, is to come to terms with the event itself. That is, to interpret legally the atrocities, to comprehend fully their context.
At the Rwanda tribunal, prosecutors and defence counsel were upon assignment immediately required to undertake an exhaustive analysis of the political, economic, social, national, and ethnic factors that led to the atrocities. This is highly unusual in national criminal investigations . . .
Perpetrators and victims were ordinary Rwandans. They spoke the same language, Kinyarwanda. They shared the same culture and customs. They had the same names and surnames. The predominant weapons used were machetes and clubs. The killing fields included churches, hospitals, schools, water wells, and public offices. The whole Rwandan territory constituted the scene of crime.
The most pressing question, therefore, that required urgent inquiry by the prosecuting attorneys and defence counsel was, what crimes did these heinous acts amount to in law?
In the face of hundreds of thousands of suspects, the anxious question was where to start investigations and which individuals to prioritise for investigations? Between July 1994 and September 1998, the arrest rate by Rwandan authorities was between 1,000 and 3,000 suspects per month.
A war crimes trial is about relevant context as much as it is about an individual accused’s conduct and intent. The particular test for the prosecuting attorneys was to prove before an international tribunal that genocide against the Tutsi ethnic group as such had taken place in Rwanda between April 6th, 1994, and July 17th, 1994.
The brief was equally to establish, by evidence, that crimes against humanity and a non-international armed conflict had in law and fact concurrently occurred. There was not much in precedent to borrow from. Compared to the hundreds of tonnes of official documents seized during the second World War in Germany and made available to the Nuremberg prosecutors, limited archives were recovered or seized in Rwanda . . .
The proper responses to the questions posed necessitated a different approach to criminal investigations than conventional police methods. Investigations had to be prosecution directed. As much as decorated and qualified policemen and policewomen were available, it became imperative to sign up other professionals: journalists, historians, sociologists, ethnographers and linguists.
This range of specialists have also given opinion evidence as expert witnesses for the defence.
On the opposite side, and on the events, the critical challenge for defence counsel was either to offer an alternative explanation for the atrocities, or reasonably discredit the prosecution evidence . . .
All indictments before the Rwanda tribunal contain a contextual allegation: the occurrence of genocide against the Tutsi in Rwanda between April 6th and July 17th, 1994. Denial of the genocide, therefore, has posed a legal, ethical and moral dilemma for defence counsel.
If from a historical or human rights perspective, the question of the genocide denial raises controversy, what about in a criminal trial in which genocide is an element of the offence? An accused is facing, upon conviction, imprisonment for the remainder of his life and where he has a fundamental right to a fair trial, including to give full answer in defence of a genocide charge. How do we read defence counsel’s duty to avoid all conflicts of interest, to fearlessly uphold the best interests of the accused, and the obligation to defend him or her without divided loyalty?
These points have been at the centre of defence strategies and effective representation of the accused.
The matter, I think, can also be conveniently put this way: if one were to be vigorously defending a war criminal accused of war crimes committed in a Nazi concentration camp during the second World War, would it be an acceptable approach to deny not only his individual participation in the offences charged, but also the Holocaust, whose existence counsel is briefed to refute on his behalf?
From the evolving jurisprudence of the Rwanda tribunal, it would appear to me that the doctrine of judicial notice of facts of common knowledge attempts a sound reply . . .
It held that the fact of the Rwandan genocide is part of world history, a classic instance of a “fact of common knowledge”. There was no reasonable basis, it observed, for anyone to dispute that during 1994, there was a campaign of mass killing intended to destroy, in whole or at least in very large part, Rwanda’s Tutsi population, a protected group under the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide . . .
Allowing judicial notice of an element of an offence neither erases nor shifts the prosecution’s burden of proof of guilt beyond a reasonable doubt or violates the procedural rights of the accused, as it is still required to introduce evidence demonstrating that the specific events alleged in the indictment constituted genocide and that the conduct and the mental state of the accused specifically made them culpable for genocide.
Judge Mohamed Chande Othman is currently a Justice of Appeal with the Court of Appeal of Tanzania, the country’s Apex Court. He worked as chief of prosecutions of the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda 1998-2000
The full text of Judge Othman’s lecture is on the Bar Council website – www.lawlibrary.ie