Article 7: How Taking a Principled Stance Won Respect 

I was appointed Chief Judge of the Criminal Court on January 20, 2003. The duty included overseeing the Juvenile Court. Mr. Ahmed Mueez and Dr. Mohamed Jameel Ahmed, my immediate two predecessors to the Criminal Court, both had Western educational backgrounds and were graduates of the International Islamic University Malaysia, like myself. They were part of Justice Minister Seena Zahir’s goal of only hiring graduates for the capital’s main trial courts. The most serious criminal, civil, and familial cases were heard in these courts. The Minister found it hard to recruit graduates, largely because we had so few law graduates in the country in the first place. I was the only Western graduate in the entire judiciary when I arrived.

I was no stranger to the Criminal and Juvenile courts, as well as their staff and judges. During my short tenure as a State Attorney at the Attorney General’s Office in 1996, I had close interactions with many of the judges and personnel, so I felt at ease and at home right away.

The Criminal Court had five judges at the time; the majority of them were local graduates, while the Juvenile Court had only one. We began our day with a briefing, a custom I inherited from my predecessors. All the judges attended the daily briefing (including those from the Juvenile Court). We discussed concerns pertaining to numerous cases together. We came to a unified consensus after the daily briefings, which the judges followed. Judges also consulted me independently on matters with which they were struggling. Since I was the Chief Judge and had far greater academic credentials, the judges listened closely to my thoughts and opinions. I used this authority to offer judges on-the-job training.

From the outset, my primary focus was on improving the system rather than getting overly over involved with the intricate details of daily trails. Occasionally, I did, however, join other judges during hearings to assess their performance and take note of their shortcomings where I could guide them.

Even though I, like other judges, served at the pleasure of the Justice Minister and the President, I was committed to eradicate the outside influence that affected judicial decisions. It didn’t take long for my willpower to be put to the test.

I was walking to an official meeting one day when I came across an elderly man and two totally veiled women on the stairway. Their son had been accused of different offenses and had been detained pending trial. The family was hoping to see their son and, if they were lucky, shake his hand and share a few words as he was escorted to and from the courtroom. (At the time, only the accused, prosecuting attorney, court officials, and, if any, witnesses were permitted to enter courtrooms.)

I went back to my office and asked details about that particular case. I was told that the man in question was Mr. Fareedh – a young charismatic preacher. He was facing numerous charges under Religious Harmony Law. (None of these charges would be applicable in the Maldives today).

I instructed the court officials to allow Mr. Fareedh and his family to meet in a spare room, at least until the officials from prisons department came to fetch him. Little did I know that this benign gesture infuriated officials at the Ministry of Defense (back then police and military acted under the same umbrella as a force). The following day, I received a letter from the Defense Ministry signed by Mr. Istafa Ibrahim.

I didn’t know him personally, but I was aware of his frightening reputation. According to the letter, Mr. Fareedh was a major criminal who was being investigated for a variety of serious offences, including terrorist-related violations. The letter also noted the family meeting I organized and urged me not to do anything similar in the future. After all, he was their detainee, and only they could decide how and when to grant family visits!

I was so enraged after reading the letter that I decided to personally react to it. I wrote that I make the decisions within the four walls of the Criminal Court, and if he or anyone else questions my authority in the future, I will hold them in contempt of court. I stated that I was aware of several injustices occurring in detention facilities, but I was powerless to intervene because they were outside of my jurisdiction. I told them, however, that I would not accept any outside intervention in my courtroom.

Mr. Istafa did something very unexpected when he received my letter. He called and said he just wanted to let me know about the charges and the individual! This was the last time an outsider tried to impose their will. Giving in to the Defense Ministry’s demands would have been a catastrophic mistake.

Interestingly, I chose to address the powerful Defense Ministry during President Qayyoom’s autocratic administration. The Defense Minister was none other than President Qayyoom himself! At that time, Judges were hire and removed at the executive’s discretion. There was no job security or legal protection. They could be arrested at any time. I wasn’t concerned about my own well-being. I adopted a principled stance and defended it. Others had to give in at some point.

Mr. Istafa and I then became close friends. At the Civil Service Club, we used to play badminton together. Our friendship and frequent badminton matches lasted during my tenure as Attorney General. My principled stance had no effect on our friendship. In fact, neither of us ever brought it up.