Working in the Office of the Attorney was not new to me. In 1995, I had served a brief stint as a State Attorney at the General’s Office. While there, as one of the junior attorneys, I was primarily involved with the prosecution of minor offenders. At the time, I remember how revered the Attorney General’s Office was. It was the envy of all government ministries and departments, populated in large part by graduates of the western law school system, many with postgraduates. It was home to the country’s most experienced lawyers.
But some eight years later, when I had been tasked to head the Office, the makeup of its demographic had been radically altered. There was only one western law graduate working there, Ms. Mariya Ahmed Didi, who just so happens to be the current Minister of Defence for the Republic of the Maldives.
Beyond Mariya, a handful of fresh western graduates would join in the months that followed my appointment. But it was not nearly enough to make up for the significant staffing issue I inherited. It was clear that I needed to think outside the box in order to get the quality service I needed immediately to execute important reforms the country so desperately needed.
In the absence of an experienced in-house legal team, I sought the services and expertise of my colleagues in other government departments, as well as private senior legal practitioners. Two of those notable team members were Mr. Ahmed Mueez and Mr. Mohamed Nasheed, both of whom were university colleagues of mine. Mr. Mueez would later become the country’s first independent Prosecutor General following the ratification of the country’s sixth Constitution in 2008, and Mr. Nasheed would be appointed Information Minister.
As for my role, the Constitution was quite clear on the position of the Attorney General. Unlike other Cabinet ministers, the Office of the Attorney General was specifically created and enumerated by the Constitution itself. Among others, the Attorney General acted as the chief legal advisor to the government, prosecuted offenders, defended the government in civil cases, drafted laws for the government to submit for the consideration of the Parliament, reviewed the rules and regulations enacted by various government agencies to determine constitutionality.
Despite the specific charge of the office, the Attorney General was also a member of the President’s Cabinet. This, however, placed the Attorney General in the awkward position of dispensing independent and impartial legal opinion while also being beholden to the Cabinet decisions which, often bending to political realities, might be contrary to the independent and impartial legal conclusions drawn by the AG’s office.
Even as the highest legal authority in the government, the Attorney General was still required to seek the advice and opinion of the President before issuing decisions on a number of important legal issues. For example, it was necessary for the Attorney General to confer with the President prior to filing any murder charges, or initiating “political offence” cases. This requirement created a significant conflict of interest, and moral dilemma.
Even beyond the more typically defined cases, as listed above, there was also an unspoken expectation that the Attorney General consult with the President’s Office in certain instances.
One such example occurred during the tenure of my predecessor, Dr. Munawwar. It was in advance of a presidential visit to one of the country’s remote islands. Custom required the islanders to meticulously clean the island beaches and streets, along with any other places it was likely the President might tour during his visit. Atoll Minister – who was, unsurprisingly, the President’s brother –ensured all aspects of such a visit went smoothly.
With the preparation for one of these trips underway, an islander jokingly commented that they should dig a giant pit to welcome the President. The poor fellow was arrested for his remark, and the investigation reports were sent to the Attorney General’s Office for charges to be filed.
Given the fact that the issue involved the President personally, Dr. Munawwar thought it would be prudent to seek the views of the President directly. In his letter to the President, Dr. Munawwar expressed his firm belief that there was no need to file charges since it was clear from the investigation that the man clearly spoke in jest, and had no motive to inflict harm to the President. But, undeterred by the Attorney General’s rationale, the President overruled the seemingly independent recommendation of the President’s very own chief legal advisor, and instructed Dr. Munawwar to proceed with the charges.
Sadly, as clearly illustrated by this example, it was not at all unusual for the President’s Office to tell the Attorney General how they should go about their business of interpreting laws.
Another instance that looms large in the eyes of many in my profession comes from 1992, when a large-scale corruption scandal involving members of the President’s family rocked the headlines. A key member of this scandal, Mr. Sato was subsequently arrested. While in prison, a member of the armed forces smuggled a phone to Mr. Sato’s prison cell. Charges were filed against the perpetrator for violating his oath of office to adhere to the Constitution and laws, serve and protect the country above all else. But, once again, the President’s Office intervened, informing Deputy Attorney General Hussein Abdul Rahman that his interpretation and application of the law were incorrect, and that the charges should be dropped. It was a dark day for the justice system of the Maldives, as the President made a clear mockery of the Attorney General’s Office, putting family before country behind closed doors.
Even some of our explicit laws blurred the lines between the executive and judicial branches. The Court Procedure Code required the Attorney General to request counsel from the President in civil cases brought against the government.
To anybody watching, it was clear that for consequential matters of law, it was the President and his Office rather than the Attorney General who was calling the shots. And yet all of my predecessors allowed this arrangement to stand. So, when I assumed office, I faced a fork in the road: would I continue along the path of my predecessors and be subservient to the President, or would I chart my own course? As you might imagine, I chose the latter.
Once in office, I gathered data on the various matters that the Attorney General had deferred to the Office of the President for their opinions. As it happened, in the vast majority of cases, there was agreement between the President’s Office and the views of the Attorney General. But, the involvement of the President’s Office wasted valuable time, unnecessarily lengthening the legal process time and time again.
Armed with this data, I wrote a letter to the President laying out my case, and, with due respect, informing him that I no longer intended to adhere to tradition and seek his advice on legal matters. I emphasized my constitutional role, noting that I was the chief legal advisor to the State, and it was my counsel that should be sought, not the other way around.
I was able to take this stand in good conscience, and from a position of strength. Unlike many others, I was not beholden to the government. I had no vested interest to protect. Many other ministers, following their appointment to the Cabinet, were gifted free land, and an interest free loan to build on that land, if they did not own homes in the capital city of Male’. Understanding the tacit cooperation that was expected with acceptance of such benefit, I steered clear of the scheme, and went further, noting that such a practice was in immediate conflict with the country’s land laws.
Years of lethargy, inaction, appeasement, conformity, acquiescence and corruption can take even more years to unwind. I did my best to play my part to reverse course and restore a fair rule of law during my time as Attorney General.