----- Forwarded Message -----
From: Abou Jeng <[log in to unmask]>
To: [log in to unmask] 
Sent: Wednesday, 2 January 2013, 15:08
Subject: Re: Fw: [G_L] A REVIEW OF JOURNEY FOR JUSTICE by HASSAN B JALLOW
 

Lamin,
 
Season's Greetings!
 
Thank you ever so much for your continued interest in the search for answers to our miserable national predicament. Your review of Alhaji Hassan's Journey for Justice is a testament of your commitment.
 
Your analyses raise a number of questions that I privately battled with especially in relation to my on-going enquiry into the origin of our national troubles and prospects for the future. I share your reading of both Kairaba and Journey for Justice within the context of a dominant PPP and the dysfunctionality it symbolised. Although I am yet to complete reading Alhaji Hassan's book, I'm beginning to convince myself that beyond the reservoir of information, both his and that of Jawara's Kairaba are ironically indictments of the scale of naivety of the PPP leadership and the dysfunctionality of its governance structures. The PPP had 30 years to rule, govern, stumble, rectify and change Gambia for good. It ruled and stumbled many times, but never rectified and probably changed very little or nothing at all. I remain disappointed though, that neither Jawara nor Alhaji Hassan has gone any nearer to taking responsibility for presiding over a
 process and a regime that actively suppressed national ambitions, devalued individual autonomy, and slowly and painfully steered our country into a big fat mess that came in July 22, 1994. Often, we are told that Jawara and the PPP brought peace, promoted human rights and allowed Gambia to be both free and safe. Well this may be true, but only in relation to a margin of 12% of the elitist population -- the chosen few. For the neglected majority, Gambia was far from peaceful, let alone free and safe. 
 
True, there was peace without violence, but social and structural violence were steeped in Gambian society. Though less visible than direct physical violence, the type of social and structural violence that operated during the PPP held our country captive, deprived people the basic means of livelihoods, denied individuals the ability and joy to dream about their futures, forced families -- particularly rural folks -- to resign to a condition of 'harr yalla or mbey Allah batula,' consolidated falsities in our national and social relations, distorted the capacity and potential of the country, promoted laziness in minds and deeds, and above all, implanted a hopeless sense of existence. For instance, what was peace when over 60% of children and teen-agers had to walk for miles to get to the nearest school? What was peace when 88% of the population was impoverished and neglected? What was peace when there was no equality of life chances -- where the
 talented majority from impoverished social backgrounds were forced to have their dreams crushed or at best sought comfort in Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot, while the generally talent-starved few grabbed all facilities and privileges? What was peace when a majority of the population was less likely to celebrate their 55th birthdays? What was peace when 80% of the population had no access to basic health care, clean water and more likely to die from a mosquito bite than a teen-ager in London would from a knife attack? What was peace when the majority of the roads were virtually impassable? What was peace when the prospect for a better life was extinguished at birth? What was peace when the people in the coastal towns of Tanjeh, Gunjur, Brufut etc had no meaningful commercial benefit from fish stocks? To my mind, part of the problem seems to be that the PPP was more interested in ruling than governing. Yet both Jawara's and Alhaji Hassan's
 books give a romanticised -- and in some ways nostalgic -- impression of a party political system that was good at governing and proud of ruling.
 
But for me though -- and this is where I tend to differ from many people -- the dysfunctionality of the PPP era is at the centre of our present national crises and dilemmas. No matter how distant the PPP days seem now, the APRC's crises of governance are fundamentally linked to the dysfunctional PPP and the criminally-under-ambitious collective psyche of Jawara and his cabinet. So to better understand why Jammeh violates Gambians, it is important to understand what the PPP did or did not do. Let me elaborate. One of the primary functions of a Government is to maintain law and order as well as provide the platforms and resources from which people can pursue their dreams and shape their destinies. An important part of this for post-independence nation-states is the conception and consolidation of a national narrative and identity. This provides the reference point upon which the mechanics of a future can be outlined, one that allows people to
 negotiate their spaces for freedom, individual personalities, family structures etc. Neither the PPP as a dominant political entity nor Jawara as a larger-than-life President came any closer to shaping a national identity or narrative. Such a flaw in the PPP's leadership and governance culture meant that Gambians had to fall back to a localised cultural set up whose philosophical underpinnings -- muunge and maslaha -- were and remain deeply disempowering. And history is replete with examples to suggest that when individuals in society are not at ease with themselves or do not have a formidable reference point to align their daily struggles, aspirations and futures, they would ultimately remain culturally shackled, politically unfree, normatively dysfunctional and collectively resigned to whatever tragedy that befalls them. This will only change when dreams become ordinary. 
 
The omission of a national narrative or identity for Gambia becomes even more serious when you compare with our Senegalese cousins. When Senghor came to power, he set out as one of his first priorities, to formulate a narrative for Senegal and an identity for the Senegalese. The former took the shape of building a Senegal that: (1) took pride in itself; (2) desirous to be innovative and enterprising; (3) open and free. For the individual Senegalese, Senghor implanted: (1) spirited discipline -- 'fasjom'; (2) hard work -- 'dandolleh'; (3) duty of care -- 'terral ak terraleh'. When combined, the national narrative of Senegal and the identity of the Senegalese provided reference points for the people and the country to negotiate what they wanted and how they were to achieve these. This is why every Senegalese tends to behave and act like any other Senegalese (hardworking, open, free, and articulate, as well as proud of being Senegalese) partly
 because they share a sense of purpose, direction and ambition. Gambians had no such leadership and philosophical offering post-independence. Jawara governed as if he was operating a Kebab shop. There was also no sense of urgency, purpose or direction (one newspaper advert carried a press release from Jawara's office in 1967: 'Could the person who left reading glasses in the Prime Minister's Office please go and collect them'). The pace of life was slow and both the leadership and the people had this grand illusion that God loves Gambians more than any other. When bad governance and an impoverished political imagining arose in the late 70s and early 80s, the best the PPP came up with was the mantra of 'Tesito'. Of course this was an ill-conceived throw-back at the scale of austerity in the wake of social and economic destabilisation. And so to this day, nobody knows what Gambia's identity or national narrative is. Jawara may say 'Friendship With
 The World'. But that sounds more like the opening note of a bad karaoke song than a national narrative. Some may say what's the fuss? Well the fuss is unless we have an identifiable national narrative and identity we will continue to live in falsehood. And it is our falsehood that makes us culturally shackled, politically unfree, normatively dysfunctional and collectively resigned to whatever tragedy that comes our way. 
 
So, it is good that you have, Lamin, raised questions and alarm bells from both Kairaba and Journey for Justice especially in the nature of the dysfunctionality and lack of vision of the PPP. With all the disagreements I have with Halifa as regards our current constitutional setting, I think he was very instrumental in exposing the falsities that dogged the PPP and the hopeless direction of our country under Jawara particularly at the beginning of the 1980s onwards. The price Halifa and his colleagues paid was the barrage of an increasingly dismissive Jawara who painted Foroyaa as an instrument for mischief rather than an outlet engaging important national issues. Unfortunately, there seems to be attempts to gloss-over the catalogues of sins under the PPP in both Kairaba and Journey for Justice. Increasingly also, BB Darboe has been doing the rounds with the online outlets, telling people how great times were under the PPP and how much great was
 still ahead of Gambia. Well he has a point. Times were great for the chosen few, but utterly miserable for the neglected majority. And when it was put to him that corruption was rife, BB became tetchy, angry and even raised his voice to lecture the interviewer on the ethics of journalism. Like Jawara and Alhaji Hassan, BB is also yet to take responsibility for our national mess. But the denial seems even broader and can sometimes be very proximate. I have uncles and cousins, aunties and neighbours who served in the highest echelons of the PPP regime. My grandpa too was very close to Jawara and served as a Chief from 1952 upto his death in 1985. All of them saw the PPP as the regime that made Gambia a Shangri-La. Fanciful! Fortunately, the history they are attempting to re-write is not so distant a history. Some do remember and many lived through it. It was far from pleasant. It is also unfortunate that the resurgence of these PPP ayatollahs are
 coming at a time when Gambia is vulnerable and its people going through a painful process of soul-searching. But I only hope that people do not start to visualise the PPP with nostalgia or possible alternative however imaginary. Informative as these books are, history won't be so kind to the PPP irrespective of how bad the APRC messes up. The PPP and its leadership were good at ruling but miserable with governance. They remain a fundamental part of our on-going national problems. For a disgruntled me, I just want someone to say sorry and leave us alone!
 
Many thanks once again, Lamin.
 
With warm regards,
 
Abou
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
 
 
       


On Wed, Jan 2, 2013 at 7:09 AM, Lamin Darbo <[log in to unmask]> wrote:


>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>                           Book Title:      Journey for Justice, 632
pages, AuthorHouse
>       
>                            Author:       Hassan B Jallow
> 
> 
> 
>                      Review by Lamin
J Darbo
> 
>Rather poignantly, Journey
for Justice commenced at the end of Hassan B Jallow’s (Hassan) all-life
career as a Law Officer, specifically as Chief Law Officer in his capacity as
Attorney General and Minister of Justice. That this magisterial work also closed
with the overthrow of the PPP government underscores the significance of the
seismic event that was 22 July 1994. 
>
>
>From chapter one, “July 1994 – Coup D’etat”, the reader is
confronted with the question of PPP’s fitness to preside over Gambian public affairs
In the main, and in so far as the coup d’etat, those questions centre on who, within
government, knew what about the events culminating in the by then predictable
intervention of the military in Gambian governance. 
>
>
>Occupying the middle
ten years separating independence to 1984 and 1994 to 2012 – the publication
year of Journey for Justice - the
record suggests that Hassan’s tenure as Chief Law Officer easily makes him the
most productive and distinguished Attorney General so far. There is nothing per se magical about the years in
question, only that Hassan’s president had the good judgement to leave him in
post for a decade, and he himself the ability and vision to productively engage
with his responsibilities. Herein the significance of Journey for Justice as a
vital perspective on a contentious period in Gambia’s public life.
>
>
>From the onset, there
lurks in the background the disturbing issue of a government so divided, and,
or, incompetent, as to prove incapable - on any objective analysis - of
adequately protecting national security. There was the controversial issue of
Hassan’s assignment by then Vice President, Saihou Sabally (Sabally), to meet the
President, Sir Dawda Jawara (President Jawara) at the airport on return from
overseas. 
>
>
>Inextricably linked to
this assignment was the unsettled question of what Sabally, and Hassan, knew
about the political thunderstorm that was to hit their government on 22 July.
Sabally skipped the airport meeting on the excuse he had “to go to Farafeni to
attend the funeral of a relative” p.17. Inexplicably, Sabally spent that very night
of 21 July in Banjul and was in his office at the State House quite early the
fateful next day. “It is now established that Saihou Sabally was back in Banjul
that night, or early morning and in his office in the morning of July 22nd 1994” p.17. Why was Sabally’s movement specifically red-flagged when Hassan
neglected to offer an explicit view on the question?
>
>
>On his part, and this
according to President Jawara in his autobiography, Kairaba, Hassan broke
away from the presidential convoy without explanation. He neither briefed his President
about the state of affairs in the country, nor followed his convoy to State
House. And even whereas Hassan dealt with the briefing issue, he avoided the
critical protocol oversight of abandoning the presidential convoy as it headed
to the island of Banjul, that potential trap in times of public uncertainty and
conflict. 
>
>
>In the chaotic early
moments of military intervention in Gambian public life, some ministers admitted
hearing inklings of something akin to 22 July a whole two weeks prior. Rather
extraordinarily, others heard nothing! Even when the noose was tightening
around Banjul, the boss of the National Security Service was assuring Cabinet ministers
all was well. In Kairaba, Sir Dawda claimed he was unaware of the presence of
the American naval vessel, US La Moore County in Gambian territory. He pointed
the finger of suspicion at Sabally! However viewed, this was quite
extraordinary, and the evidence, admittedly circumstantial, appears to suggest
the PPP Government was actively self-canibalising in its sunset months, weeks,
and days! 
>
>
>And so it happened that
ministers in the country, along with some security chiefs, were held captive
commencing that fateful day when a thirty year government spectacularly
collapsed like a house of cards. President Jawara and other senior figures were
afloat on national waters headed for lands beyond our shores. What an
inglorious, and some may say, fitting end, to three decades of a generally do-nothing
and tremendously corrupt government. It was in this climate that the AFPRC’s irreverent
Sana Bairo Sabally, if only briefly, set to work traumatising former ministers
and the unlucky that crossed his path.
>
>
>In Chapter two, “Early Years”, Hassan dealt with his
Bansang beginnings through high schools at Saint Augustine’s, and Gambia High,
in Banjul, and to Tanzania to “read for the LL.B. degree at the University of
Dar-Es-Salaam” in 1973 p. 42, from where he graduated “with an LL.B (First
Class Honours Degree)” in May 1976. His educational journeys continued through
the Nigerian Law School in Lagos in October 1976 from where he “passed the Bar
finals” in May 1977 p. 47. In September 1978, Hassan entered the UK on a
British Council scholarship to study “for the Master of Laws Course at
University College London” p. 58, returning “exactly a year to the day” he left
Banjul, and having specialised in public international law. At the tender age
of 28, Hassan graduated from rural childhood in Bansang, high school and urban
childhood in Banjul, and higher education at institutions in the great and
exciting cities of Dar-Es-Salaam, Lagos, and London. His permanent career was
to commence and end at the AG’s Chambers where he worked since 1976.
>
>
>In Journey for Justice, Hassan discussed the African (Banjul) Charter
on Human and Peoples Rights and its interface with OAU politics (chapter 3),
and dealt with The Special Criminal Court Act 1979, at chapter 4. Chapter 5 dealt
with Kukoi and his 30 July 1981 incident, and chapter 6 dilated on the politically
expedient Senegambia Confederation. In chapter 7, Hassan became Solicitor
General, and entered the big league as Attorney General and Minister of Justice
in chapter 8. As Chief Law Officer, Hassan embarked on systematic reform of law
(chapter 9), and did what he could to enhance operations in the chronically inefficient
Gambian judicial system (chapter 10). 
>
>
>In chapter 11, Integrity in Public Life, Hassan extensively
discussed the single issue that ultimately sunk the PPP, i.e., rampant
corruption. Chapter 12 dealt with governance and not only undertook a comparative
analysis of the 1970 and 1997 constitutions, but lauded the democratic
credentials of President Jawara and the PPP, and in chapter 13, Hassan discussed
his “Early Political Duties” as a
member of the Cabinet. Chapter 14 dealt with overall party political tapestry
and elections, and in chapter 15, he tackled the famous and watershed Fifth PPP National Congress at Mansakonko,
and chapter 16 dealt with his Government’s last general elections in 1992.
Chapter 17 dealt with the gathering storm that already undermined the castle of
sand that was the PPP Government as its incompetent hubris was about to catch
up with destiny. As earlier mentioned, Journey
for Justice ended, at chapter 18, with “1994
Coup D’etat – Postcript”.
> 
>Viewed in the round, Journey for Justice is an excellent book
especially in terms of the sheer volume of cogent factual information. From a
purely intellectual perspective, the analysis equally passes muster, but here the
reader must remain alert to Hassan’s understandable partiality. In the face of
overwhelming evidence of runaway corruption, Hassan consistently questions the
validity of any such contention. Indeed, the Bishop of Banjul, the Rt Reverend
Michael Cleary, attacked “bribery”, “corruption”, “greed” and “an appalling
lack of accountability ... fast taking root in the country” p594-6. In his
words, there were “disturbing signs that the good name which the country has
for upholding justice is being rapidly eroded. Hardly a week passed by without
reports of a financial scandal in government, parastatal bodies or business
circles”. 
> 
>Outside PPP circles, Bishop
Cleary’s view was the consensus in the country.  and the evidence supporting it was
overwhelming. But Hassan thought otherwise. “As a lawyer when I spoke of
corruption I did so in a technical legal sense which is different from the offences
of theft or embezzlement of public funds and property”. p597. He continued:
>          
>I
am mindful that the opposition NCP and others made much noise about corruption 
>and
its rising levels. But when challenged to identify specific cases to the police
or 
>the
Attorney General they were noticeably short of any concrete information. One 
>developed
the impression that the opposition, in order to discredit the Government, 
>merely
latched onto this popular anti-corruption sloganp.597-8
> 
>Contrary to Hassan’s
contention elsewhere in Journey for
Justice, it is irrelevant whether Government leadership was involved in
corruption or not. Indeed, there was evidence of leadership-level corruption
years before 1994, including in the Sanna Manneh saga. In any case, the
Government had oversight responsibility for the public purse! There was
compelling evidence that Hassan’s government had no serious commitment to rooting
out corruption. 
>
>
>For example, when the
Asset Evaluation Commission was launched by Fafa Mbai as Attorney General, he
was hounded out of Cabinet and himself dragged before the Commission. According
to Hassan, of the complaints lodged with the Commission, only Fafa’s came from
the State House. “I believe all the complaints submitted to the Commissioner
other than the one in respect of Fafa, which was forwarded by the office of the
president, were filed by two individuals whose identity eventually became a
matter of public knowledge in Banjul. With the result that they became the
object of private criminal prosecutions. And great dislike” p.300..  The two were charged with the now viral offence
of “giving false information to a public servant”, a PPP-era law! 
>
>
>Who lodged Fafa’s file with
the President’s Office and why were two citizens prosecuted for doing the bidding
of the Commission within its established operational framework? This was a
perverse abuse of the Commission framework which was based on information from
the public.  It stands to reason that
members of the public who volunteered information must be protected and as
Attorney General, Hassan was duty bound to block the malicious private
prosecutions via the agency of the police power of the state.
>
>
>In explaining why the
scheme was ultimately scrapped, he had this to say: “As time went on the
Commission began to be faced with a credibility problem as the society, rightly
or wrongly, began to perceive the exercise as being manipulated and used as a
political weapon targeted principally against the urban elite of a particular
ethnic group”. p. 300 Hassan offers no personal thoughts on this allegation of
witch hunting but there was no question it was founded on utter fabrication.
The victim “urban elite of a particular ethnic group” controlled the government
and masterminded the sacking and subsequent humiliation of Fafa. 
>
>
>Regardless of Hassan’s
perspective, the PPP era was inseparable from the widespread corruption that
took such firm root in the country that ill-gotten gain was flaunted as the
norm. When the Special Criminal Court Bill was tabled in Parliament in 1979,
then Attorney General M L Saho stated: “It is not alarming to say that this
country will be destroyed if this cancer is not arrested now. Me make no
apologies for this Bill ... No stone would be left unturned in the fight to
protect the interest of the public from the rapacious mafia within
our society” p. 298. In 1980, “one Member of Parliament expressed the view that
more stringent measures such as hand amputation ought to be
introduced” to stem the tide of runaway corruption. “A Parliamentary Secretary,
addressing Government accounting personnel, was reported by the Gambia News
Bulletin of 10th July, 1980 to have suggested the firing
squad for embezzlers” p. 298. 
>
>
>It was in this climate
of mass disaffection with a do-nothing government that Kukoi emerged in 1981,
and in which Fafa M’bai, Attorney General in 1982, shepherded the Evaluation of
Assets and Prevention of Corrupt Practices Bill” which “came into force on the
31st of December 1982 as Act No. 17 of 1982” p.298. We know what
happened to Fafa and his Act when the “rapacious
mafia” went to work on him.  It is not
even persuasive to contend that the “society” perceived “the exercise as being
manipulated and used as a political weapon targeted principally against the
urban elite of a particular ethnic group”. It was clearly a case of jaalo singo bey forango kang and this particular
development was an utter stain on PPP’s willingness and, or, ability to
effectively discharge its responsibilities as overall manager of our public purse.
>
>
>Aside the PPP
Government’s principal and ultimately fatal albatross of runaway corruption, there
were other instances of illiberal conduct that continue to negatively impact
Gambian public life some two decades after its demise. 
>
>
>As Attorney General,
Hassan embarked on extensive and useful law reform (see chapter 9 generally)
but also came across as a man wedded to the law and order school, as someone
with a conservative philosophy of justice. It was ill-advised of the Government
to sanction the “private prosecution” of the two individuals who provided
information to the Commission regarding certain corrupt individuals. They appear
to have acted within the framework established by the Government. And what was
the charge? The now notorious offence of “giving false information to a public servant”
that Professor Jammeh’s APRC government is utilising with reckless abandon against
the innocent (see p 299).  
>
>
>There was also the
small matter of Sana Manneh’s prosecution on allegations of criminal
libel for fingering four ministers as corrupt. “I felt that this libel
was not an entirely private affair with the victims being left to institute
private legal proceedings to defend their integrity. They had been libelled in
their official capacity and it would be unfair to leave them on their own. I
decided to institute a case of criminal libel...” see p. 302-10 generally. Sounds
familiar? Absolutely! Criminal libel/defamation is now a
potent weapon against the journalism profession. Ala Hassan, Sana Manneh
ultimately won “on a technicality”. What is law without its “technical”
baggage! As we say, process is everything!
>
>
>In the legislative
domain, there was the treason regime that excluded the overt act requirement
and introduced the elastic conspiracy element thus creating vast room for
abuse. “Thus it was that on the 26th of March, 1986 I moved the
House for a second reading ... There was no debate on the Bill, I suppose
the members were satisfied by my explanation of its contents. It went
through Committee stage and its third reading, received the Presidential Assent
and came into force as Act No. 8/86” p. 234. Extraordinary considering the
House just passed the ultimate political offence without a word of debate! When
dealing with a parliament of this nature, an Attorney General placed as Hassan,
was duty bound to utilise a heighten regime of self-restraint. That was not
evident in the treason legislation when parliament completely dropped the ball!
>
>
>On the issue of
personal law affecting Muslim inheritance, he oversaw the legislative scrapping
(see section 30 of the Wills Act 1992) of the laudable Court of Appeal decision
in Saidy v Saidy “that a Muslim who
makes a will in the English form in contravention of the Islamic rules of
inheritance is deemed to have opted out of the Islamic law of succession”, and
that “his will must thus be given effect, despite the conflict with his
personal law” p. 247.
>
>
>Other instances of this
apparent law and order fixation manifested themselves in the relationship
between politicians and the army. In June 1991, there was a mutiny by a
“contingent of soldiers of The Gambia National Army” staged at MacCarthy Square
over payment of allowances for peacekeeping operations in Liberia which
incident the government regarded “as a gross act of indiscipline” p 426-27.  Colonel Ndow Njie was consequently retired p.
428, Major Maba Jobe was put in charge, and Nigerian soldiers under Major Dada
were brought in. “In a separate development, the IGP Sidney Riley called me on
Monday 5th August 1991 to tell me he too had been requested to leave
...” p. 429. President Jawara didn’t bother to inform his Cabinet about Riley
and the Nigerians!
>
>
>A similar mutiny, and
over the same complaint of unpaid allowances occurred on 03 February,
1992.  Hassan was away in Bansang but
when he returned, he agreed, on a phone conversation with Sir Dawda “on the
need for firm action to be taken this time against the mutineers. Some
deterrent action was called for to discourage a recurrence and put an end to
this serious and dangerous indiscipline within our armed forces” p. 479-80. “Four
months after the Army incident in February, the Acting Army Commander Major
Maba Jobe was compulsorily and prematurely retired from the Army at the tender
age of 30!” p. 481. I wonder how the Government thought that “discipline” was
theirs to impose on the restless and officially armed segment of society. 
>
>
>Journey
for Justiceis some 632 pages of vital factual and
analytical tour de force. There is
plenty of material on internal PPP politics, including candidate selection for
general and other elections. The frequent cross carpeting from other parties to
the PPP is the clear culprit for the disgraceful section 91 (1) (d) of the 1997
Constitution.  And there is a lot of information
on the MansaKonko Congress and the confusion occasioned by President Jawara’s bizarre
announcement of not standing as a candidate for president in 1992. It was utter
chaos with grown men behaving as though no person in the party was capable of succeeding
Jawara. In government, it triggered the ill-informed and sycophantic ao-called Civil
Service memo on presidential succession.
>  
>There was the ruthless parliamentary
manoeuvring that, via a constitutional amendment, expelled P S Njie, and Buba
Baldeh, from the House in 1972, and 1985 respectively p. 389. And the unfair
election processes that allowed use of government resources for political
campaigns, and made the Permanent Secretary of Local Government as Supervisor
of Elections. Hassan kindly gave us his thoughts on presidential term limits,
and considered the Daily Observer at the height of its glory as “subversive”.
Poetic justice then that Kenneth Best was deported by the political authority
that replaced the PPP. He gave us information on the banning and unbanning of
MOJA(G).His recollection conflicts with that of President Jawara on the issue
of an amnesty for Kukoi! There is extensive literature on the Senegambia
Confederation but absent a perusal of the governing instrument, Hassan’s
assertion that it did not trigger a referendum must be approached with some caution.
>
>
>Singaporisation? p. 564.
A dream pure and simple considering Gambia and Singapore attained statehood the
same month of the same year, with virtually identical chances of surviving in
the global milieu they were born into. Lee Kuan Yew documented Singapore’s extraordinary
journey in his memoirs From Third World to First. What
Singaporisation required was way beyond the mediocre capacity of Hassan’s
Government. What utter joke that was!
>
>
>Notwithstanding that Journey for Justice ended with the PPP’s
overthrow, Hassan exceptionally touched on the controversial recent prisoner
executions in light of the PPP’s abrogation of the death penalty in 1993. He
recalled the parliamentary debates on the issue:
>
>
>          The member for
Niamina, Lamin Waa Juwara, supported the motion and then 
>prophetically
proposed that while Sir Dawda, an acknowledged humanist was still 
>around, it was best
that the abolition of the death penalty be entrenched into the 
>Constitution, lest
some future leader of a different inclination were to reactivate 
>its application.
How prophetic indeed!
p. 347
>   
>What a difference in
Waa Juwara’s perspectives between 1993 and 2012!
>
>
>Not to succumb to Waa
Juwara’s firepower in the prophecy department, Hassan, in final chapter
reflections, mused on the teachings of the Arab
Spring:
>         
>The
policy of opposition to unconstitutional changes of government, commendable 
>and
necessary as it is, is not meant to provide a licence or sanctuary and security 
>to
dictatorship. If one important lesson is to be drawn from the ‘Arab spring’ –
largely 
>played
out on African soil in Tunisia, Egypt and Libya, it is this: that no amount 
>of
intimidation, repression and security systems can forever deny the peoples
yearning 
>for
justice, freedom and respect for human rights and that in the face of
persistent 
>systematic
oppression and dictatorship, the people will, in the absence of effective 
>avenues
for redress, exercise their ultimate right of rebellion against dictatorship p. 619.
> 
>How
very true!
> 
>Compared
to what replaced it, the PPP Government was quite mild compared to its
replacement. Would we still have the PPP in one form or the other without 22
July? It is entirely possible but that would be a degrading prospect for an
independent country. No matter how tragic our present condition, who says life
is an easy passage. A government that collapsed so spectacularly without so
much as a shot fired did not deserve to be saved. Good riddance PPP! 
> 
>Without question,
Hassan belongs to that rare breed of Gambian lawyer whose preoccupation is not merely
with black letter law and its technical application, i.e., theft as offence,
its elements, and questions of guilt or innocence.  From my reading of Journey for Justice, his understanding of law and its public
purpose is far deeper and more visionary. This is not to say Hassan’s
philosophical window on public life as of 1994 represents my ideal standard. There
is ample room for reasonable people to analytically disagree from reading the
same set of factual circumstances. And it is imperative we remember the PPP era
as belonging more in the contemporary sphere than in ancient history,
especially for those Gambians who were in secondary school as of 1994. 
>
>
>Nevertheless, Journey for Justice assures that Hassan’s
will remain among the abiding public voices on the PPP era. He is a third of a
triumvirate of higher level political operatives within the PPP Government whose
solid intellectual credentials will remain a challenge to contrasting views on
the era. The other one is President Jawara himself! Isn’t the third obvious? 
>
>
>Although there is
indeed a lot of it, Journey for Justice is not merely about law. It is more of a political memoir with the law therein arguably
incidental to Hassan’s career as a Law Officer from 1976, and as Chief Law
Officer between 1984 and 1994. Do not merely congratulate Hassan for writing Journey for Justice. Purchase this significant
book on Gambian public life.
>
>
>I recommend it highly!
>
>
>Among other outlets, Journey for Justice can be purchased
from the publisher, AuthorHouse, and from Amazon
> 
>
>
>
>
>Lamin J Darbo
>
>
>01 January 2013 ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
To unsubscribe/subscribe or view archives of postings, go to the Gambia-L Web interface
at: http://listserv.icors.org/archives/gambia-l.html 
>To Search in the Gambia-L archives, go to: http://listserv.icors.org/SCRIPTS/WA-ICORS.EXE?S1=gambia-l To contact the List Management, please send an e-mail to: [log in to unmask] ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
To unsubscribe/subscribe or view archives of postings, go to the Gambia-L Web interface
at: http://listserv.icors.org/archives/gambia-l.html 
>To Search in the Gambia-L archives, go to: http://listserv.icors.org/SCRIPTS/WA-ICORS.EXE?S1=gambia-l To contact the List Management, please send an e-mail to: [log in to unmask] ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
>
>


--

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
To unsubscribe/subscribe or view archives of postings, go to the Gambia-L Web interface
at: http://listserv.icors.org/archives/gambia-l.html

To Search in the Gambia-L archives, go to: http://listserv.icors.org/SCRIPTS/WA-ICORS.EXE?S1=gambia-l
To contact the List Management, please send an e-mail to:
[log in to unmask]
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤