Witnessing near medieval repression in the Maldives
By Kishali Pinto Jayawardena
It would be easy to visit the Maldives as a tourist, a conference delegate or for business purposes and return with nary a thought of the almost medieval repression that rules every aspect of its civil and political life. Hundreds of deliberately or naturally incurious visitors flock to the islands every week, unknowing or uncaring of the desperation of liberal Maldivians to free their society from oppressive rule.
Blessed (or cursed as it may be) by a stubbornly contrary nature that made it impossible to be merely content with presentations on the treaty body systems of the United Nations on a visit to the islands last week, I ventured further to discover the quality of its political life. In so doing, I was prepared to discover practices of repression to some extent (based on recent newspaper reports as well as the findings of international missions) but was astounded by the widespread extent of repression as well as by the complete impunity with which abuse of rights occur.
Let us first take some concrete examples. One current case involves Ahmed Abbas, a well-known artist and political cartoonist who had critiqued the dreaded Maldivian secret police for using excessive force, observing that they would understand the negative consequences of such force only if they were given a dose of the same treatment. Abbas was then asked to give a statement to the police, taking responsibility for this assertion.
On 1st November 2006, a pro-government website published a court order claiming that Abbas has been sentenced in absentia to 6 months in jail for 'disobedience to order'.
This loosely framed charge under Section 88 of the archaic Maldivian Penal Code is made punishable by imprisonment ranging up to six months or up to one/two years in aggravated contexts. Activists complain that this is a clause frequently used by the government to intimidate and threaten persons who exercise the right to criticize. While the charge itself was highly debatable in terms of its legal applicability, the complete absence of procedural justice thereafter was even worse.
In a improbably ludicrous sequence of "Alice in Wonderland" events, upon being informed of this 'sentencing' in absentia, Abbas had questioned from the Attorney General's office over the telephone as to whether this was, in fact, true and had been answered in the positive. Two days later, after his frantic requests for political asylum were unsuccessful, he was detained by riot police and is currently being held in the infamous Maafushi Prisons in Male.
Meanwhile, the editor of 'Minivan Daily" in which his statement was published as well as the sub editor were also charged for 'disobedience to order.' These charges have been left pending against them, demonstrating the arbitrariness of the procedures. Indeed, persons similarly arrested and detained (whose cases are painstakingly documented by activists), point out that cases are intentionally left pending in order to use the charges as easy weapons of intimidation. The same restraints apply in other areas. Labour rights are minimal and freedoms of association and assembly not much better. Political rallies are routinely attended by mass arrests and detentions, sometimes of mere bystanders who were watching the processions go bye. Registration of non-governmental organisations are denied on the flimsiest of excuses.
Political repression practised against members of the opposition Maldivian Democratic Party (of which some eighty five members are currently detained) is predictably severe. Charges of treason and high treason served on MDP leaders such as Mohamed Nasheed and Ibrahim Hussein Zaki are rife with the similar procedural irregularities that governed Abbas's case. Somewhat hilariously, the latter (who was a previous Minister of Tourism in the Maldives) had been charged after exhorting the islanders of one atoll to practice "peaceful revolution." Their high profile trials are closely monitored by international observers. In certain cases, due to tremendous international pressure, the government has been forced to back down as demonstrated in the recent presidential 'pardon' of Jennifer Latheef, an Amnesty International Prisoner of Conscience. Here again, other prisoners who were charged along with her for similar offences were not pardoned resulting in Latheef insisting that they be treated in the same manner.
The context within which these egregious violations of human rights occur in the Maldives is not difficult to analyse. The frightening omnipresence of the office of the Presidency reinforces the equally frightening ad hoc nature of laws, practices and regulations. Consequently, there is an almost complete lack of legal accountability. The laws themselves are extremely deficient. As a former Attorney General of the islands put it, the current Penal Code which was put together in a haphazard manner from extracts of the Sri Lankan Penal Code, is long since outmoded. Systematic laws of criminal procedure and evidence are non-existent. The issuance of Presidential decrees (which some argue, have no constitutional validity), has further restricted basic rights in this regard.
Some laws contain spectacularly problematic clauses as for example, Act No 5/78 (11/3/1978) which confers powers on an unidentified three-member committee appointed by the President to decide whether detention should be extended beyond the legal limit of seven days. Then again, the current Constitution of the Maldives has not made fundamental rights justiciable and the courts have declined constitutional jurisdiction in that respect. The courts system itself is rudimentary with no Supreme Court but a High Court exercising appellate power with appeals thereon (again ludicrously) to the President. The lack of independence of a body titled the Judicial Services Commission is conspicuous.
Other checks on abuses are also deficient. Though the Maldives has had a National Human Rights Commission, (NHRC) its lack of institutional independence has resulted in it being denied entry into regional bodies such as the accredited Asia Pacific Forum (APF) of National Human Rights Institutions. Though there is a strident constitutional and legal reform process being urged, the progress is unbearably slow. While a fairly good revised law on the NHRC was recently passed by the legislative members, the quality and commitment of its members, (chosen by the President), appear to preclude the body functioning independently.
Comparisons between the South Asia island states of Sri Lanka and the Maldives, separated by the azure blue lengths of the Indian Ocean but drawn together by historical and religious ties are appropriate for a different discussion. For the moment, it would suffice to say that the activism of the Maldivian people (in response to these patterns of extreme repression) is far more spontaneous if not infinitely more courageous than the largely donor driven-conference oriented patterns of weary activism that is found in Sri Lanka.
There however, the comparison ends. While the degeneration of historic structures of democratic governance in Sri Lanka, including the parliamentary and judicial institutions has taken this country back several decades, there is no doubt that hard pressed as we are, there are still some reserves to draw on when oppression becomes acute. But such methods of basic checks and balances are either rudimentary or non-existent in the Maldives. Its recent accession to international human rights treaties such as the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women and the Convention Against Torture signifies that the Government is taking note of stern criticism of its human rights record. Practical implementation of these standards needs to take place though sustained domestic, regional and international activism and advocacy. |