I had arrived early to work to try and steal a few minutes on Skype with my girlfriend in Alaska, when one of the staff attorneys walked into my office and said I was going to join the court-monitoring project that morning. I had no idea what that meant nor what my role would be. I was handed some papers to read about the case and 20 minutes later we were off.
Secretly, I was hoping to be a Harvey Dent like character rooting out corruption at every turn. I wanted to foil those that would try and derail the Armenian Justice system. To be modest, I even envisioned the parade thrown for me as the judges I’d taken down looked on from a jailhouse window cursing the day I arrived in Yerevan. All of this might have been overreaching.
A little background on the case Meltex v. National Commission on TV & Radio. This drama is 10 years in the making. It has already gone through the Armenian appeals process once and was subsequently appealed to the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR). The conflict is pretty simple. The government has media licenses that it auctions off and through the non-political bidding process the winning media group will get the rights to that license. Well, A1+ media claims that their bid should have been a winner and was denied because of dubious political reasons. A1+ is one of the voices of the opposition. The conflict seems easy to understand. The Armenian Supreme Court had no problem with A1+ being denied their license.
The ECHR told Armenia that their court got it wrong—this extra-national appeal still feels wrong to me—and that Armenia is actively limiting free speech by not giving A1+ a license. This case is now being closely watched by those activists in the free speech arena, as well as, those concerned with Armenian courts upholding broader human rights doctrines from the ECHR.
On account of this reversal from the ECHR, I found myself “monitoring” the case in a small 12x20 foot courtroom. Used to the more ostentatious Federal Courts in the US, this was a bit of a different surrounding. From the outside I wouldn’t have known that this was the Federal Administrative Court of Armenia. While the building is of the classic, oversized Soviet utilitarian style, the only thing noting a courthouse lay inside, and not another random government building, was a small plaque next to the front door. The courtroom itself had white washed walls, one bench for observers at the back and the judge’s bench was only slightly raised with his clerk positioned to the judge’s left.
My task was to take note of anything that looks corrupt or wrong. To be up front about it, I don’t know what corruption “looks” like—a friend recommended that it is like Justice Stewart's view on porn: you know it when you see it. Short of a bag of money being handed to the judge, I was at a loss. I had a translator from the office, but still it’s not as if I’m familiar with the country’s professional code, know the limits of the judge’s role or have any real semblance of what’s going on.
The attorneys for both sides were sans suit, tie and sleeves. Slacks and short sleeve button ups are the main dress for your professional Armenian on the go. They sat at small desks most reminiscent of a grade school classroom. The judge wore his robe rather casually. The case itself is being so heavily watched that the seating for observers was full and people were spilling into the hall.
I never saw that bag of money get passed. The closest I came to rooting out any kind of corruption was when I noticed the bailiff on my way out of the courtroom. His lower teeth were all gold, which is normal if you are Roma and don’t care much for banks, but a government employee? His watch was gold as well and ringed with diamonds. In an area of the world where fake watches are prevalent, I couldn’t be sure the legitimacy of the watch. However, being that I was ready to take a bite out of corruption I convinced myself that if anyone in that room was actively corrupt this man was laundering the money that the judge receives for favorable opinions. How else do you get a grill like that on a civil servant salary? Riddle me that.
Ultimately there were no arrests made and no corruption was sniffed out; there wasn’t even a trial for that matter. We were in the courtroom for no more than 15 minutes to find out the case would be postponed for one month on account of a third party intervention. This wasn’t the excitement I expected, but it’s kind of a metaphor for law school: went in thinking it was gonna be all cool and justice oriented to find yourself some time later still not understanding some convoluted doctrine no matter how much caffeine your drink, snort, or huff.
All the same, that one month hiatus to deal with the intervention has almost passed, and this coming week I will once again try and root out corruption. Fingers crossed on that parade.
Secretly, I was hoping to be a Harvey Dent like character rooting out corruption at every turn. I wanted to foil those that would try and derail the Armenian Justice system. To be modest, I even envisioned the parade thrown for me as the judges I’d taken down looked on from a jailhouse window cursing the day I arrived in Yerevan. All of this might have been overreaching.
A little background on the case Meltex v. National Commission on TV & Radio. This drama is 10 years in the making. It has already gone through the Armenian appeals process once and was subsequently appealed to the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR). The conflict is pretty simple. The government has media licenses that it auctions off and through the non-political bidding process the winning media group will get the rights to that license. Well, A1+ media claims that their bid should have been a winner and was denied because of dubious political reasons. A1+ is one of the voices of the opposition. The conflict seems easy to understand. The Armenian Supreme Court had no problem with A1+ being denied their license.
The ECHR told Armenia that their court got it wrong—this extra-national appeal still feels wrong to me—and that Armenia is actively limiting free speech by not giving A1+ a license. This case is now being closely watched by those activists in the free speech arena, as well as, those concerned with Armenian courts upholding broader human rights doctrines from the ECHR.
On account of this reversal from the ECHR, I found myself “monitoring” the case in a small 12x20 foot courtroom. Used to the more ostentatious Federal Courts in the US, this was a bit of a different surrounding. From the outside I wouldn’t have known that this was the Federal Administrative Court of Armenia. While the building is of the classic, oversized Soviet utilitarian style, the only thing noting a courthouse lay inside, and not another random government building, was a small plaque next to the front door. The courtroom itself had white washed walls, one bench for observers at the back and the judge’s bench was only slightly raised with his clerk positioned to the judge’s left.
My task was to take note of anything that looks corrupt or wrong. To be up front about it, I don’t know what corruption “looks” like—a friend recommended that it is like Justice Stewart's view on porn: you know it when you see it. Short of a bag of money being handed to the judge, I was at a loss. I had a translator from the office, but still it’s not as if I’m familiar with the country’s professional code, know the limits of the judge’s role or have any real semblance of what’s going on.
The attorneys for both sides were sans suit, tie and sleeves. Slacks and short sleeve button ups are the main dress for your professional Armenian on the go. They sat at small desks most reminiscent of a grade school classroom. The judge wore his robe rather casually. The case itself is being so heavily watched that the seating for observers was full and people were spilling into the hall.
I never saw that bag of money get passed. The closest I came to rooting out any kind of corruption was when I noticed the bailiff on my way out of the courtroom. His lower teeth were all gold, which is normal if you are Roma and don’t care much for banks, but a government employee? His watch was gold as well and ringed with diamonds. In an area of the world where fake watches are prevalent, I couldn’t be sure the legitimacy of the watch. However, being that I was ready to take a bite out of corruption I convinced myself that if anyone in that room was actively corrupt this man was laundering the money that the judge receives for favorable opinions. How else do you get a grill like that on a civil servant salary? Riddle me that.
Ultimately there were no arrests made and no corruption was sniffed out; there wasn’t even a trial for that matter. We were in the courtroom for no more than 15 minutes to find out the case would be postponed for one month on account of a third party intervention. This wasn’t the excitement I expected, but it’s kind of a metaphor for law school: went in thinking it was gonna be all cool and justice oriented to find yourself some time later still not understanding some convoluted doctrine no matter how much caffeine your drink, snort, or huff.
All the same, that one month hiatus to deal with the intervention has almost passed, and this coming week I will once again try and root out corruption. Fingers crossed on that parade.
