In the history of the turbulent relations between the judiciary and the world of politics, the decision by the Court of Justice of the Republic (CJR) handed down on Wednesday, November 29, will go down in history. The accused was a big fish, Justice Minister Eric Dupond-Moretti, on trial for conflicts of interest, for having ordered two administrative investigations against judges with whom he had had run-ins when he was a lawyer. Full of bravado, Dupond-Moretti had appeared ex officio at the trial, refusing to step down from his position to defend himself tooth and nail. The prosecution had requested a one-year suspended prison sentence, at the end of 10 days of intense hearings.
The CJR eventually acquitted him, recognizing the existence of an “objective situation of conflict of interest” but without discerning an “intentional element” to his conduct. Barely out of the “trial of his life,” Dupond-Moretti had his position as justice minister reinforced by Prime Minister Elisabeth Borne. A few hours later, French President Emmanuel Macron received him to discuss the continuation of ongoing projects. It appeared that the minister had won the day, but at what cost?
Neither party has emerged unscathed
For the first time in the French Fifth Republic’s history, a sitting justice minister was put on trial. There are three lessons to be learned from this serious and disturbing event. The first is rather reassuring: The hierarchical link between the prosecutor, who brought the charge against him, and the government, who appointed him, does not seem to have hindered the smooth running of the trial or biased the debates. Everything that needed to be said was said.
The second is more worrying: The public image of this merciless confrontation – between a minister and several members of the very institution whose effective operation he is supposed to guarantee – is very damaging. Neither party has emerged unscathed, for while it is clear that Dupond-Moretti should have deferred to the investigations when they were opened, it is no less clear that his appointment had immediately triggered an outraged reaction in the judicial establishment.
The third lesson is a recurring one: Since the CJR is a special jurisdiction – comprising a majority of elected officials (six MPs, six senators and three magistrates from the Cour de Cassation, the highest French court) – that judges crimes and misdemeanors committed by members of the government in the exercise of their duties, its decisions are always open to question. As soon as the decision concerning Dupond-Moretti was announced, the anti-corruption association Anticor described it as “legally illegible” and “manifestly political,” while the left, also outraged, once again called for the abolition of the CJR.
For all these reasons, Dupond-Moretti is bound to be modestly triumphant. At a time when democracy is being undermined and the rule of law is being challenged, nothing would be worse than to lend credence to the idea that politicians have exacted revenge on judges, or that they are comfortable with their weakening.
The paradox is that the same justice minister who triggered so much mistrust among senior magistrates is also the one who claims to be leaving the legacy of a strengthened and renovated institution. He has pushed through a programming law, secured increased funding and new staff positions, and initiated structural reforms. This is the task on which he must now concentrate if he is ever to put the disastrous Dupond-Moretti scandal behind him.
Source : Le Monde
