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 slogan p.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 Justice is 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