Debate on the Burqa

Debate on the Burqa[1]

‘Difference amongst my community is a sign of the bounty of Allah’

- Hadith of the Prophet.[i]

Possibly no issue [about clothing] gives rise to more polarisation, concern and division than that of the burqa.[2] In Australia we are reading about this on almost a daily basis. However, this polarisation is not confined to Western nations and their governments. It divides Muslims, their religious scholars, and the governments of Muslim majority nations as well. Today’s angst in all corners of the world about veiling is almost exclusively directed at Muslim women, so much so that Heath concludes it has become ‘a locus for the struggle between Islam and the West and between contemporary and traditional interpretations of Islam.’[ii]

We know that not all Muslim women veil and are aware that women from other religious traditions and cultures may also choose to veil. Throughout history veiling was a common practice in Christianity, Judaism, and Hinduism. It is rare for the Virgin Mary, mother of Jesus, to be depicted without a veil, and for centuries Catholic women who took holy orders as nuns veiled whilst laywomen covered their heads at Mass. These practices mainly ended in the 1960s with the Second Vatican Council’s determination to ‘renew and update the church’ but the end to veiling in the Catholic Church was not without controversy. Fifty years later, many brides in the Christian tradition will still veil, including a face veil, for marriage. [I, for one, did at my wedding]. A large number of Greek and Southern Italian women continue to wear a black headscarf, similar to Muslim women in rural Turkey.

What I hope to do is to explain how and why it is that Muslims divide on the issue of Islamically correct dress for Muslim women. To do so, the starting point has to be the sources of authority and interpretation in Islamic law (Sharia) on requirements for female attire, and some analysis of how these sources of law are applied in a contemporary context. But first what is a burqa?

What is a burqa?

The term ‘burqa’ comes from the Arabic root ‘to sew up’ and technically refers to a form of a loose outer garment which covers the entire woman’s body including her head, in which there is a mesh panel or woven grille concealing her eyes and mouth. This grille enables her to see out, but prevents others from seeing in. Traditionally the garment was worn in Afghanistan where it is also called a chadri, and in adjacent parts of Pakistan, including the Northwest Province, and some parts of India. It can be black but hues of blue are also very common. The endorsement of the Taliban for the burqa has linked it closely to other patriarchal Taliban practices which restrict women’s freedoms and severely curtail many of their basic rights, including to education.

Today in the West the term ‘burqa’ is used more generally to refer to any form of Muslim dress that conceals a woman’s face (eyes may be visible or covered) in addition to covering her body.  So in Australia the word ‘burqa’ is commonly used for all forms of face veils, including the niqab,[iii] which may be worn with an abaya (cloak) as in the Middle East, or with a chador in Iran, and includes the sitar, the long veil that covers a woman’s eyes and body. The word ‘hijab’ comes from the Arabic word for curtain or cover and generally refers to a veil or headscarf that if not worn with a niqab allows a woman’s face, but not hair, to be visible. In the West, the word ‘hijab’ is also used generically to mean modest Islamic clothing involving a veil or head‑covering.

To discuss the issues surrounding the burqa, it is easier, I think, to use the term in its lay or popular sense, which is,  a body-covering that includes the concealment of the face, whether or not covering the eyes. The generic words ‘veil’, hijab, or ‘headscarf’ will be used to describe head coverings that allow the face to be seen.

Over time and place

For Muslims, the history of when and where Muslim women started veiling is not clear. One view is that during the time of the Prophet, women did not veil but when Islam spread towards the Persian, Assyrian and Byzantine-Christian regions where upper class or wealthy women did veil (in contrast to peasants and slaves) the custom was also adopted into Muslim practice.[iv] Another view is that forms of veiling did occur in the desert communities of pre-Islamic Arabia as a means to protect the face from the elements of the sun, sand, dust and wind, but after Allah’s revelations to the Prophet it became mandatory to veil to preserve female modesty, at first for the Prophet’s wives and then, through emulation, for all Muslim women. The practice spread but took on the colours and features prevailing in different local cultures where these were compatible with the principle of covering the body and head.

Today, the headscarf in all its manifestations including the burqa is the most visible sign of identification as a Muslim woman. Data shows that it is now adopted more frequently than it was fifty years ago. In the 1950s, veiling had almost disappeared in many Muslim societies where economic, political and scientific advances were occurring and not-veiling became directly associated with women’s social advancement within Muslim societies. The exception to this trend away from veiling was in the places which historian Albert Hourani [writing in the 1950’s], labelled the ‘backward regions’ of Saudi Arabia and Yemen.[v] Today, however, women whose mothers did not wear face veils are choosing to do so, both in Muslim and Western countries. The revival and popularity of the niqab/burqa is spreading to parts of the Muslim world, such as Malaysia and Brunei, where by tradition a women’s face was always visible and where a head covering was optional. It would seem that a sign of modern Islam can be either a revival of tradition or an emulation of Arab culture.  It also may demonstrate an explicit rejection of Western practices and values in support of Islam.

In some Muslim nations, like Tunisia and Turkey, there have been burqa bans and other prohibitions on distinctive Islamic clothing for men and women for decades, some of which are now being relaxed or overturned.  In the 1920’s Ataturk prohibited not only the burqa/niqab but all forms of veiling for women in the modernisation and secularisation of Turkey. The Shah of Iran followed suit, only to have the policy fully overturned by Khomeini’s Islamic Revolution when the strict chador dress code was restored and enforced. In the 1980’s Tunisia’s liberal reformist government banned not only the burqa but all head coverings in public schools, universities and government buildings. When the Islamist party gained office in the 2011 elections, they quickly quelled fears that Tunisian women would now be forced to cover and veil. Instead, veiling was recommended but was not made obligatory under national law. It is evident that at the political level, regime change may mean a whole different legal and religious paradigm in which what women wear is a key visual and symbolic component.

In Muslim immigrant communities in the West, some women adopt the burqa and headscarves as symbols of religiosity and empowerment thereby asserting a collective identity distinct from the Western one in which they reside. It is not all one way. At the other end of the spectrum is another manifestation of modern Islam: this is the woman who rejects ‘Islamic’ clothing believing what is in her head is more important than what is on it, and what is in her heart counts more in the eyes of Allah than what covers her body. These Muslim women dismiss as superficial the conflation of religious piety with layers of clothing. This dimension is not just for Muslim women in the West. Some prominent Muslim women in Parliaments and the media choose to wear Western-style suits, at the risk of peer and public condemnation. In Kuwait and Jordan attempts were made to exclude non-hijab wearing female members of Parliament.[vi]

To analyse these dichotomous positions, the starting point must be the Quran. Muslims believe the Quran is the direct and divine word of Allah (God) dictated to the Prophet Mohammad, making it not only a religious text but the primary source for Islamic law. How the Quranic passages have been interpreted by scholars, past and contemporary, gives rise to the disparity of views that are evident today.

The Quran

There are several verses in the Quran that relate to the appropriate dress for Muslim women in general and one that refers to the Prophet’s wives. The most commonly cited verse is Súra Núr, 24:31:

And say to the believing women that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty; that they should not display their beauty and ornaments except what (must ordinarily) appear thereof; that they should draw their veils over their bosoms and not display their beauty except to their husbands, their fathers, their husband's fathers, their sons… or small children who have no sense of the shame of sex; and that they should not strike their feet in order to draw attention to their hidden ornaments.[vii]

The traditionalist interpretation of this verse interprets broadly the phrase ‘not display their beauty and ornaments’ to encompass every aspect of a woman’s body, including hands and face. Lowering ‘their gaze’ directs specific attention to the feature of her eyes, which makes the burqa the ideal manifestation of the Quranic passage. For traditionalists, the wearing of the burqa/niqab becomes a command of God and is an obligation (fard), not a mere recommendation (mustahabb) for women. The face is regarded not as the last, but as the first ‘bodily part’ that she must cover, because her face ‘is the source of temptation and the source of people desiring her.’[viii] Men must be protected from any desire that the sight of a woman’s face could arouse while a Muslim woman can feel more secure and less sexually alluring if wearing a burqa. The latter perspective is described by Moghissi as the ‘protective shield’ justification.[ix]

The modernist interpretation of this same verse is that it does not direct a woman to cover any particular part of her body, except for the bosom, and the words ‘except what must ordinarily appear’ can only be referring to the hands and face. To extend the phrase ‘not display their beauty’ to the covering of a woman’s face, hair, hands, and her entire body belies Islam’s true message of modesty and humility. This is supported by the preceding verse which calls on men to also ‘lower their gaze and guard their modesty’ (Quran, Súra Núr, 24:30) so modesty is the key for both genders. The verse requires both sexes to ‘lower their gaze’. In order to follow this requirement, the face and especially the eyes must be visible. As there is no comparable juristic ruling that men should cover their faces, it is paternalistic to interpret it to apply solely to women. What is modest should be determined in keeping with what others in the society wear and this will change over time, according to place, and also according to cultural practices and the tasks women perform. Modernists refute that the onus should rest on women alone to curb male desire, and stress that men should develop self-control. If men and women have equal obligations to submit to God,  and ‘to guard their modesty’ it cannot be only women who are expected to manifest this dedication outwardly in the form of either burqa or even hijab.     

One verse in the Quran (Súra Ahzáb, 33:53) has the more generic word ‘hijab’ (curtain or screen) used, but it is in the context of speaking with the wives of the Prophet. ‘And when ye ask of them [the wives of the Prophet] anything, ask it of them from behind a curtain’. Textualist or traditonalist scholars extrapolate concealment by the curtain inside his home would extend to outside places with the hijab acting as ‘a physical barrier’[x] between women and others. Modernist scholars such as Reza Aslan and Leila Ahmed[xi] draw on this same verse to show that requirements for hijab, or covering, were applicable just for the Prophet’s wives because of their exalted status and special social position as the Prophet’s intimate companions. On the other hand, traditionalists assert that this requirement in the Quran laid down the exemplar for all Muslim women to emulate. Yet, a verse in the same chapter, Súra Ahzáb 33:32, clearly states ‘O Consorts of the Prophet! Ye are not like any of the (other women)’.[xii] This enables the verse following at 33:35 to be a qualifier, limiting the hijab requirement to the Prophet’s wives, rather than laying down an edict for women in all places and in subsequent centuries.

As can be seen, these passages in the Quran give rise to varied interpretations.  Scholars then turn to the second source of authority in Islamic law: the Sunnah. These are the legal rules derived from practices and sayings, known as hadith, of the Prophet Mohammad, which were recorded and verified several centuries after his death.

Hadith

There is an array of hadith relating to women’s dress, and several deal with the wearing of the face covering burqa/niqab. One narrated by al Bukhari is that women during hajj (pilgrimage to Mecca) must show their face and hands thereby making it forbidden (haram) to wear niqab, a burqa or gloves during the special state of purity known as ihram.[xiii] Literalists use this hadith to support the wearing of a burqa, niqab or gloves at all other times on the basis that the Prophet would not have otherwise needed to spell out the hajj exception. The alternative view is that if face covering was not required at this important religious ceremony, where both genders are present, then it would not be mandatory at other times. Another hadith narrated by Aisha (one of the wives of the Prophet) also supports a conservative stance: ‘When (the Verse): "They should draw their veils over their bosoms," was revealed, (the ladies) cut their waist sheets at the edges and covered their faces with the cut pieces.’[xiv] Similarly, at the end of a long narration, the Prophet said: ‘and if one of the women of Paradise looked at the earth, she would fill the whole space between them (the earth and the heaven) with light, and would fill whatever is in between them, with perfume, and the veil of her face (italics added) is better than the whole world and whatever is in it.’[xv] However, there are hadith which support the less restrictive view. For example, one hadith recounts that when the Prophet was travelling with Al Fadhl, they came across a beautiful woman who spoke to the Prophet seeking advice for her father.  Al Fadhi was impressed by her beauty until the Prophet turned Al Fadhi’s head away.[xvi] To notice her beauty means she must not have had her face veiled and as the Prophet did not warn or chastise her for this, indicates his tacit or silent approval for her unveiled state.

It can be seen from the preceding discussion how legitimate juristic differences of opinion can arise from the two primary sources of Islamic law. For modernists this diversity is to be respected and admired as it gives flexibility to Muslim women to follow the interpretation that resonates with them. For textualists this diversity of views can be dangerous as it fractures the ummah (the Muslim community). Yet, the burqa debate continues unabated today and remains controversial in the Muslim heartlands. There was mixed reaction to Saudi cleric Sheikh Muhammad al-Habadan’s ruling that women should not only cover their faces, but if wearing niqab they should reveal only one eye because ‘showing both eyes encourages women to use eye make-up to look seductive.’[xvii] There were equally mixed reactions to Sheikh Mohammad Sayyed Tantawi, the Grand Imam of al-Azhar, Egypt, ruling that face covering was a pre-Islamic customary practice, and not a religious injunction. In certain contexts, notably at schools, he argued the face must be visible and was reported telling a student wearing a niqab at school to immediately remove it.[xviii] Over the last two decades there have been numerous court cases in Egypt relating to a range of government restrictions on niqab/burqas including whether burqa-wearing students were eligible to sit university exams so dressed.

In the West there is also division amongst Islamic scholars with the majority of the view that if it accords with her religious beliefs then it is her right as a Muslim to wear the burqa. Whilst it is noted that in countries like Australia and Canada, for example, most scholars ‘are silent’[xix] on whether the burqa is obligatory or not, there are some, such as Britain’s Shaykh Syed Mutawalli Darsh who caution against women covering their face in the West. This is because face coverings may create a barrier between the wearer and non-Muslims for whom the concept has never been known and may be alienating. Full veiling may therefore mitigate against outreach (da’wah) to non-Muslims; outreach deemed an obligation on all Muslims.[xx] Covering her face may also cause a Muslim woman to be harassed. Canadian Muneeb Nasr writes a ‘reasoned justification for not wearing the niqab in this society (Canada) is needed - one that seeks to engage others in an intra-community discussion, not alienation’.[xxi]

Reflecting on practices across the Muslim world, it is apparent that Muslim women’s dress clearly comes with political, religious and cultural messages that an observer can decode. Dress can be seen to align the wearer with a Salafi (fundamentalist/literalist) or with a modernist interpretation of Islam. It can signify a political direction either in support of, or against, secularism, or Islamisation, or Western cultural dominance through colonisation, or globalisation. It also can reflect a cultural identity and tradition. In Afghanistan, a woman wears the light hues of the burqa and secludes herself (purdah) to demonstrate her and her family’s honour and respect for social order.[xxii] On the Arabian Peninsula she wears a black abaya as a reflection of Salafi traditonalism,[xxiii] which generally restricts her movements in public non-segregated spaces. In conservative Wahhabi-informed Saudi Arabia all women, Muslim or non-Muslim are required by law to wear an abaya in public places with religious police (muttawa) employed to enforce it. In Malaysia, she wears the vibrant colours of traditional baju kurung with tudong and is not constrained by notions of purdah as Malay women have for centuries worked with and alongside men. However, these identifications are not static. For example, the spread of Salafi Islam from Saudi Arabia to Southeast Asia has meant that some Malaysian women who want to show their identification with that world‑view now don black abaya and niqab. Wearers of face coverings also believe it brings them closer to God and personifies their piety, spirituality and the highest possible personal level of modesty. Conversely, there are reports of young Iranian women testing the boundaries of compulsory chador dress code by adopting tighter fitting clothing and minimal or loose headscarves. In democratic Muslim Indonesia, what Muslim women wear is at the forefront of religious and legislative debate both nationally and particularly in the provinces which now have the legislative power to set and enforce their own dress codes and morality programs.

What Muslim women wear has become an important indice of many societal factors: the prevailing fiqh (religious interpretation and scholarship); the nation’s political direction; the influence of the ulama (scholars) at the public and personal level; and the woman’s own religious conviction and identification.

Reception of the burqa in the West

In Western nations with significant Muslim minorities most people accept the headscarf as a visible expression of a Muslim identity but see the burqa as something alien and confronting. The Australian Prime Minister, Tony Abbott, has admitted to this, as did Julia Gillard during her term as Prime Minister.[xxiv] The burqa gives rise to a number of concerns in Western secular nations: rejection of the nation’s culture and values; subjugation of Muslim women by Muslim men, whether fathers, husbands or Imams; alignment with reactionary Islamist forces or terrorist‑supporting bodies; and weakening of human rights protections through oppression and loss of female autonomy. In response to these concerns, burqa/niqab wearing Muslim women in the West argue it is in fact Western women who are oppressed by the sexualisation and objectification of women. They respond that it is their human right to cover their face in any nation that claims to enshrine freedom of religion and expression; it is completely their own decision and not one imposed on them, directly or indirectly by men; and that Islamist views are lawful in a democracy; and as terrorism is contrary to Islam it can have no connection or connotation with what a woman wears.

At times, supporters of the burqa take a critical stance against the laxity and permissiveness in the West. It is frequently expressed that the clothing of Western women is a sign that Western men do not value women and women in turn have low self-esteem dressing only to please men’s carnal desires. In contrast, because Muslim women in burqas are kept ‘hidden’ it is asserted they are treasured like precious jewels. This type of reasoning was evident in a well‑publicised Friday sermon given by Sheik Taj Din al-Hilali, the then Mufti of Australia and one of the nation’s senior clerics, in which he made the analogy that women who are out not wearing hijab are like meat left uncovered in the street to be eaten by cats; in effect their immodest dress invites sexual assault and gives excuse to the man who does so.[xxv] His view however was widely criticized by other leaders of Australia’s Muslim community and it shocked non-Muslims. The ‘protective shield’ rationale is quite common, but is challenged by Muslim feminists who point out that neither the burqa or hejab have protected women from rape and violence in Islamic states, and that the Islamic dress code did not help ‘women in Afghanistan or Algeria: in fact the threat to them increased during two decades of civil war when religious issues were brought to the fore.’[xxvi]

In liberal Western societies, it is not only non-Muslims that find the burqa confronting. Some Muslims also express angst because for them it does not evoke piety, rather they see it is as ‘the signature dress of Islamism’ and are concerned that extremist, militant Islam is taking root in the West in the hearts and minds of young Muslims.[xxvii]

Burqa bans in the West

Several European nations have made it an offence to conceal one’s face in public places. In 2009, France’s President Sarkozy said the nation ‘cannot accept that women be prisoners behind a screen, cut off from all social life, deprived of all identity’[xxviii] and set up a commission of inquiry to investigate the wearing of face coverings. The following year, France’s National Assembly passed 335-1 an ‘Act prohibiting concealment of the face in Public Space’[xxix] with a fine of €150 or lessons in French citizenship, or both, for concealing one’s face in a public place, which included cinemas, theatres, businesses (cafés, restaurants, shops), banks institutions, railway stations, airports and all means of public transport, as well as forests, beaches and public gardens.[xxx] This Act is worded neutrally to cover men and women of any age or nationality, but specifies the wearing of niqab or burqa as forms of concealment along with other face-covering items such as balaclavas, helmets and masks. The rationale given to the people of France was that face‑coverings prevent the clear identification of a person, which can be both a security risk and a social hindrance within a society that relies on facial recognition and expression in communication. Also, in the words of the Minister of Justice and Freedom, the ‘wearing of the full veil signifies a withdrawal from national society, rejection of the very spirit of the French Republic founded on the desire for social cohesion’.[xxxi] The Act was passed by the Senate and also found to be constitutionally valid by France’s Constitutional Council,[xxxii] on the grounds that ‘such practices are dangerous for public safety and security’ and ‘women who conceal their face, voluntarily or otherwise, are placed in a situation of exclusion and inferiority patently incompatible with constitutional principles of liberty and equality.’ In addition, an offence was added to the Penal Code (art 225-4-10) for compelling another person, ‘by means of threats, duress or constraint, undue influence or misuse of authority … by reason of the sex of said person to conceal their face’. This offence is punishable by one year’s imprisonment and a fine of €30,000, and these punishments are doubled if the person compelled is a minor.

Whilst the French legislation received criticism, with public shows of defiance by groups of Muslim women and supporters of a Muslim’s right to choose,[xxxiii] it was generally popular in France. The burqa ban was reported as having 80 per cent popular support, and Muslim members of Parliament also voted for the ban. Fadela Amara, the Muslim Algerian-born housing minister called the burqa ‘a kind of tomb, a horror for those trapped within it’,[xxxiv] and ‘a visible symbol of the subjugation of women’ and the Mufti of Paris Dalil Boubakeur, advised the Assembly that the burqa/niqab was not prescribed in Islam and he saw it as inconsistent with French secularism. However, he did caution that imposing any legislated ban would be difficult. French politicians also noted Tantawi’s support for the banning of the burqa (as noted earlier) and that of fellow al-Azhar cleric, Abdel Muti al-Bayyumi, who stated: ‘I want to send a message to Muslims in France and Europe. The niqab has no basis in Islam…. I personally support the ban and many of my brothers in the Islamic Research Academy support it'.’[xxxv] There have been only a handful of arrests but the law sends a message that the burqa, at this point in time, is inconsistent with French citizenship.  This message is reflected in cases where citizenship for Muslim women is denied on the ground that burqa wearing is ‘incompatible with the fundamental values of the French community, and notably with the principle of sexual equality.’[xxxvi] Amnesty International condemned the law as a human rights violation of the freedom of expression of the women who choose to wear it willingly. Although Sarkozy lost the Presidential election in 2012, his socialist successor, Hollande, guaranteed to the voters that, if elected, he would not seek to overturn the law.

The stance taken by France commenced a chain of similar responses across Europe regarding the burqa. Belgium and Italy have enacted similar legislation, and the Netherlands Parliament voted in support of a ban on ‘concealing the face’, to take effect in 2013. Austria, Spain and Switzerland are currently debating the issue. The United Kingdom has ruled out such a ban, but it remains divisive, with tension points arising regularly.

The European burqa bans resulted in a series of cases being brought to the European Court of Human Rights on grounds that to do so is in violation of Art 9 (religious freedom) and Art 14 (discrimination) of the European Convention on Human Rights.[xxxvii] Recently, the European Court judges upheld the French laws prohibiting and criminalising the wearing of the burqa on the grounds that:

The voluntary and systematic concealment of the face is problematic and is quite simply incompatible with the fundamental requirements of ‘living together’ in French society and that “[t]he systematic concealment of the face in public places, contrary to the ideal of fraternity, ... falls short of the minimum requirement of civility that is necessary for social interaction.” It indeed falls within the powers of the State to secure the conditions whereby individuals can live together in their diversity.[xxxviii]

Australia

Australian Senator Cory Bernardi was one of the first members of Parliament to call for a burqa ban on the grounds that [the] ‘burqa isolates some Australians from others. Its symbolic barrier is far greater than the measure of cloth it is created from.’[xxxix] However, unlike France where the Left and Right of politics agree, no political party in Australia has taken such an un-libertarian stance. Whilst Prime Minister Abbott has recently described the sight of women in burqas as ‘fairly confronting’[xl] he went on to add that “we are a free country, we are a free society and it is not the business of Government to tell people what they should and shouldn't wear.”[xli]

Apart from the symbolism of ‘them and us’, the religious dimensions and human rights implications, there are practical aspects especially in Western nations that arise regarding the burqa. Can a woman wear a burqa/niqab whilst giving evidence in court, especially as a witness in a criminal trial where the jury have to assess the veracity of her testimony without seeing her facial expressions? Justice Deane in Western Australian ruled that in a jury trial for fraud the face-covering of a Muslim witness had to be removed.[xlii]  Her Honour noted that whilst there was ‘need to be “respectful and sensitive” to the beliefs of individuals, she could not deny the jury the opportunity to determine the credibility of witnesses’.[xliii] When facial recognition is the basis of passports, driver licenses and other forms of identification, what exceptions, if any, should be made for a Muslim woman who wears a burqa? If identification by face is not possible, should face-covered women be fingerprinted? This was an issue in New South Wales after a Muslim woman wearing a burqa was charged and convicted of making false accusations against the police, but had this overturned on appeal because the court could not be absolutely certain of her identification when the false complaint was made because the burqa had prevented any facial identification.[xliv] In response, New South Wales introduced legislation to cover these situations.[xlv]

What concessions should be made to enable fully faced-veiled Muslim women engage in sport including in national teams? [xlvi] Australia’s design of the burqini for recreational swimming as well as for use in Surf Life Saving was well received amongst the wider community, and deemed ‘permissible’ by Mufti Hilali but was not accepted by all Islamic clerics, as there were concerns it hugged the body and a woman’s form was apparent especially when the fabric was wet.[xlvii] The burqini also leaves the face exposed. What degree of accommodation should be made for Muslims who wear the burqa and seek differential treatment? In response to a request for separate citizenship ceremonies for Muslim women who cover their faces, Canada not only rejected segregated ceremonies but banned Muslim women from covering their faces during such ceremonies on the ground that ‘we are all becoming Canadians together and … it is only a sign of respect for your fellow citizens, when you are pledging to them your commitment to live in a community with them, to show your face and who you are and that your pledge is heartfelt and authentic’.[xlviii]

Conclusion

The debate goes on: in the West and in Muslim nations, in universities, parliaments, in the media, in homes and between friends. Whether the burqa is a source of women’s liberation which enables her ‘to be judged not on face value’ but for who she is ‘as a person’, or whether it empowers her by being ‘in control of displaying [her] beauty’ to whom she chooses’[xlix] or whether the burqa is, simply, as Saudi journalist Maha al-Hujailan describes it as ‘walking prison’,[l] is likely to remain a moot issue for some time.

 

[1] This overview is modified from part of a chapter I wrote called ‘Contemporary debates on and with Islam’ in Ann Black, Hossein Esmaeili & Nadirsyah Hosen, Modern Perspectives on Islamic Law (Edward Elgar, 2013) 242-253.

[2] The word burqa is now commonly used in the English language so it does not require italics for a foreign term.

[i] Ali ibn Abd-al-Malik al-Hindi, Kanzul ‘Umal, Vol. 10, 136.

[ii] Jennifer Heath, The Veil (2008), 1.

[iii] Half niqabs tie around the head leaving the eyes and forehead visible, whereas full niqabs completely cover the face leaving a narrow opening for the eyes. Sometimes the eyes are also covered by two or more sheer layers so that a woman can see out but her eyes cannot be seen.

[iv] Jonathon Bloom and Sheila Blair, Islam: A Thousand Years of Faith and Power (2002).

[v] Albert Hourani, ‘The Vanishing Veil: A Challenge to the Old Order’, UNESCO Courier, January 1956, 35-37.

[vi] Toujan Faisal was the first female elected to Jordan’s Parliament. In Kuwait, Rola Dashti and Aseel Al-Awadhi were among four women elected in 2009. Richard Spencer, ‘Kuwaiti women MPs refuse to wear hijab in parliament’ The Telegraph 12 October 2009.

[vii] Abdullah Yusuf Ali, The Qur’an: Text, Translation and Commentary (2005), 904-5.

[viii] Islam’s Women Q&A Fatwa #1173 issued by Shaikh ibn Uthaimin, located at <http://www.islamswomen.com/qa/question.php?qid=1173>.

[ix] Hiadeh Moghissi, Feminism and Islamic Feminism: the Limits of Post-modern Analysis (1999), 45.

[x] Susan A Spectorsky, Women in Classical Islamic Law (2010), 50.

[xi] Leila Ahmed, ‘The Veil of Ignorance’ Foreign Policy, June 12, 2011.

[xii] Abdullah Yusuf Ali, The Qur’an: Text, Translation and Commentary (2005), 1115.

[xiii] This is the term for the sacred state of purity a Muslim must be in, in order to perform the hajj rituals. Some scholars also hold that the face should not be covered during the five daily prayers. 

[xiv] Sahih Al-Bukhari Volume 6, Book 60, Hadith # 282.

[xv] Sahih Al-Bukhari Volume 8, Book 76, Hadith # 572.

[xvi] Sahih Al-Bukhari Volume 8, Book 74, Hadith # 247.

[xvii] This comes from the authority of Ibn Jarir from an authentic chain of narrators from Ibn Abbaas', located at: <http://www.ahlalhdeeth.com/vbe/archive/index.php/t-6000.html>; ‘Saudi cleric favours one-eye veil’, BBC News, 3 October, 2008.

[xviii] ‘Niqab at the centre of raging Controversy in Egypt’ Islamic Voice, located at: <http://www.islamicvoice.com/March2010/THEMUSLIMWORLD/>. Al Qaradawi, another prominent Egyptian Islamic scholar and media mufti, stated that in his view ‘the niqab is not obligatory’. 

[xix] Muneeb Nasr, ‘The Niqab Furore’ The Muslim Presence, 5 November 2009, located at: <http://muslimpresence.com/?p=3089>.

[xx] Ibid.

[xxi] Ibid.

[xxii] Dinah Zeiger, ‘That (Afghan) Girl’ in Jennifer Heath (ed.) The Veil (2008), 273.

[xxiii] Up until the 1960s and 1970s women in Saudi Arabia and Oman wore colourful traditional Arab dress but the shift on conservative thought especially after the Iranian Revolution has made black abaya dominant. Susan Mubarak, ‘Why the black abaya?’ Muscat Daily, 7 February 2011, located at: <http://www.muscatdaily.com/Archive/Stories-Files/Why-the-black-abaya>.

[xxiv] Katharine Murphy, 'Rudd and Gillard disagree on burqa' The Age, May 8, 2010.

[xxv] Sheik al-Hilali advised that ‘If you take out uncovered meat and place it outside on the street, or in the garden or in the park, or in the backyard without a cover, and the cats come and eat it … whose fault is it - the cats or the uncovered meat? The uncovered meat is the problem. If she was in her room, in her home, in her hijab (veil), no problem would have occurred.’

[xxvi] Hiadeh Moghissi, Feminism and Islamic Feminism: the Limits of Post-modern Analysis (1999), 45.

[xxvii] Leila Ahmed, ‘The Veil of Ignorance’ Foreign Policy, June 12 2011.

[xxviii] Sarkozy: Burqas ‘Not Welcome’ in France, CBS NEWS (June 22, 2009), located at: <http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2009/06/22/world/main5103076.shtml>/

[xxix] See <http://www.diplomatie.gouv.fr/en/IMG/pdf/Q_A-ENG_2_.pdf>.

[xxx] Code Penal (France) art 131-13.

[xxxi] Michèle Alliot, Minister of Justice and Freedom, speech given in the Senate on the Bill on Concealment of the Face, Paris, September 14, 2010, located at: <https://pastel.diplomatie.gouv.fr/editorial/actual/ael2/bulletin.gb.asp?liste=20100920.gb.html>.

{C}[xxxii]{C} Decision 2010 - 613 DC of 7 October, 2010.

[xxxiii] Financial support was offered by several organizations and Muslim individuals to pay the fine of any Muslim charged with an offence under the anti-burqa law.

[xxxiv] William Langley, ‘France’s burka ban is a victory for tolerance’ The Telegragh, 11 April 2011.

[xxxv] The Niqab Debate, located at <http://thedebateinitiative.com/2012/05/04/the-niqab-debate-banning-freedom/>.

[xxxvi] Shaira Nanwani, ‘The Burqa Ban: an unreasonable limitation on religious freedom or an unjustifiable restriction?’ (2011) 25 Emory International Law Review 1431.

[xxxvii] See generally, Shaira Nanwani, ‘The Burqa Ban: an unreasonable limitation on religious freedom or an unjustifiable restriction?’ (2011) 25 Emory International Law Review 1431‑1475.

[xxxviii] SAS v France [GC], no.943835/11, ECHR 2014. 

[xxxix]  Cory Bernadi, ‘For Australia’s sake we need to ban the burqa’ The Brisbane Times, May 6 2010, located at:

<http://www.brisbanetimes.com.au/opinion/society-and-culture/for-australias-sake-we-need-to-ban-the-burqa-20100506-ubun.html#ixzz1yC3IpIgU>.

[xl] Joel Gibson, ‘Burqa decision ripples across world’, The Sydney Morning Herald August 20, 2010.

[xli] Emma Griffths, 'Prime Minister Tony Abbott reveals he wishes the burqa was not worn In Australia', ABC News, 2 October 2014 , located at: http://www.abc.net.au/news/2014-10-01

[xlii] Ibid.

[xliii] Chris Robinson, 'Muslim witness must remove burqa face covering' Perth Now,

located at http://www.perthnow.com.au/news/western-australia/muslim-witness-must-remove-burqa-judge-shauna-deane/story-e6frg13u-1225907283532.

[xliv] ‘Appeal upheld in Sydney burka case’, ABC News June 20 2011.

[xlv] Identification Legislation Amendment Act 2011 (NSW).

[xlvi] Recently the women's basketball team from Qatar had to withdraw from an international competition in South Korea because they would not remove their head-coverings.

[xlvii] Fatwa 83702 Islamweb, located at: <http://www.islamweb.net/emainpage/index.php?page=fatwa>.

[xlviii] Interview with Canada’s Citizenship and Immigration Minister Jason Kenney: Stewart Bell, ‘Widespread support for burka ban’ Jason Kenney says: Muslims salute minister for ‘courageous’ move’ National Post, 23 January 2012.

[xlix] Jacqueline Maley, citing Umm Jamaalud-Din, in ‘It’s un-Australian – rally condemns push to ban the burqa’ Sydney Morning Herald September 20 2010.

[l] Maha Al-Hujailan, ‘The Nature of the Abaya’, located at:  <http://trueislam.tribe.net/thread/6ba1df7d-a03f-4907-9dd2-001b67e78eb5>.

An Interview with Professor Suri Ratnapala – Reflecting on 25 Years of Australian Constitutional Law and Looking Ahead to the Future

At the conclusion of 2014, UQ’s long-serving Professor of Public Law, Suri Ratnapala, will be retiring from TC Beirne. In a tribute to Professor Ratnapala’s contributions to the teaching of constitutional law and jurisprudence at UQ, two Editors of Pandora’s Box, Samuel Walpole and Tristan Pagliano (and with the assistance of another, William Isdale) joined Professor Ratnapala in this conversation about some of the thematic issues in Australian constitutional law.*

&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Professor Ratnapala, pictured with the intervie…

                                                         Professor Ratnapala, pictured with the interviewers

PB: Professor Ratnapala, thank you for joining us. What would you consider the most        significant development in Australian constitutional law over the last 25 years?

SR: In my view it is the development of the doctrine of institutional integrity of state courts  beginning with Kable v DPP.[1] The doctrine introduces an element of separation of powers to the state constitutions. There are four aspects to the doctrine that have been established through the jurisprudence as the doctrine has developed.

The first concerns the constitution of a court, with the High Court expressing an opinion that the overuse of acting judicial appointments would be unconstitutional.[2] The second element relates to the prohibition against conferring impermissible jurisdictions and incompatible functions on state courts, such as those relating to control orders and the like.[3] The third aspect, established in Kirk v Industrial Court of NSW,[4] is the most important. It is concerned with prohibiting the withdrawal of jurisdiction and says that a state parliament cannot remove a state Supreme Court’s jurisdiction to review a judicial or administrative decision on the basis of legality. This is a direct support of the rule of law at the State level. Finally, there are the procedural guarantees. The High Court has not always held in favour of accused persons in these cases, but they have restricted the limitations state parliaments can place on procedural guarantees.

PB: What aspect of Australian constitutional jurisprudence are you most critical of?

SR: For me, the Engineers{C}[5] doctrine, as affirmed in Workchoices,[6] is the most pernicious constitutional doctrine since Federation. I am most concerned about the way it is used. There is an element, with respect, of hypocrisy with the way the High Court uses the doctrine. The doctrine is like a sword. It is left sheathed whenever the High Court wishes to, ironically, strike down, legislation. However, when it wants to defend a piece of legislation it unsheathes the sword. The subsequent implied rights cases, the Melbourne Corporation case[7] and those cases that followed it all basically ignored the Engineers doctrine. However, where desired, the High Court will bring it out. WorkChoices was a recent example. I am opposed to the doctrine as I do not think a constitution can be interpreted without taking into account its text and structure.

PB: What are you views on the two recently proposed amendments to the constitution? Firstly, to provide a power to fund local governments directly (proposed by the Gillard government) and secondly, constitutional recognition of indigenous Australians?

SR: My opposition to the local government referendum proposal is well known. My opposition is basically that it undermines fiscal federalism and the economic existence of the States. The states must have a real existence if federalism is to prevail, not just one in form or law. A real existence means an economic existence. Direct funding by the Commonwealth erodes that capacity of the states to manage their own local economy. Furthermore, if implemented it further erodes state legislative power. It happens in this way: if a local authority receives a grant on conditions determined by the federal parliament, those conditions which are constitutionally authorised under an amended s 96 will prevail against state law. It is an indirect way of taking over State legislative power. States’ financial dependence on the Commonwealth means they cannot refuse s 96 grants. Local authorities are even more dependent on such funding. 

PB: What about the proposal to constitutionally recognise Indigenous Australians?

SR: Those seeking to constitutionally recognise Indigenous Australians seem to seek three things. The first is a symbolic statement of recognition. I do not see any objection to that, though it I do not think it will provide a material benefit to Indigenous communities. The second goal is to remove s 25,[8] which I am in favour of.

The third proposal, to reformulate the race power in s 51(xxvi) is more problematic. I am in favour of repealing this paragraph but many proponents of the proposal also wish to replace the paragraph with a power to legislate for the benefit of Indigenous Australians but not for their detriment. Although I like this in principle, it is not possible to implement. People within Indigenous communities themselves will clash over whether law conveys a benefit. To an extent these will be clashes of economic theories. Disputes will go up to the High Court, however, as it will be a constitutional matter. How will the High Court resolve these political and economic arguments?  There is one solution to this, which is very simple – a constitutional prohibition on racial discrimination generally. The Expert Panel did want to have the power to legislate for Indigenous Australians to be given to the Commonwealth to the exclusion of the states. However, it also sought a prohibition on racial discrimination.

PB: There could be problems with that position though. Section 8 of the Racial Discrimination Act 1975 (Cth) allows a discriminative law to be upheld if it is a special measure. There have been laws upheld on this basis, such as those restricting alcohol in remote communities. What if a particular community wanted such laws. Would such a blanket prohibition in the Constitution prohibit such programs even if the community sought them for their benefit? Is that a legitimate concern?

SR: It is. There always will be such when you insert a provision like that into the Constitution. There has to be some sort of reservation or qualification. At least it will be an easier issue for the High Court than deciding whether legislation is beneficial or detrimental. This is because there is established jurisprudence in the United States, European Union and Australia on what amounts to discrimination. There is, at least, more guidance on the point.

PB: Are they any other possible constitutional amendments you would like to see that are not widely discussed?

SR: I have two amendments in mind. One relates to my views on federalism. The first one I would like is the extension of the just terms clause[9]  to the States. Hardly a month passes where some rural farmer doesn’t write me a letter – as I have written on the subject – saying they have suffered as a result of regulatory takings: restrictions on property use so extensive that they could be considered acquisitions. They have no defence and no way in which they can get anything out of the government if the government decides to regulate some land use in a way that destroys the market value of the land. It happens time and time again. That is in the rural properties but there are issues even in urban areas.

PB: And your second proposal?

SR: Remove the conditionality of grants to the states by the Commonweath under s 96, as that is what has undermined the powers of the States.

PB: The States have essentially become service providers for the Commonwealth, in some respects. This takes us to our next question. There is currently discussion occurring about 'reforming' Australian federalism. Does Australian federalism need reform, and what shape should reform take?

SR: The main issue with Australian federalism is vertical fiscal imbalance. The main thing I would like to see reform of is fiscal federalism. I would like the Australian fiscal arrangements to be brought into line with the United States system. This means the states have to be allowed to impose income tax. That ties in with amending s 96 as the High Court has said s 96 grants can be made subject to the condition that states do not impose income tax. The Commonwealth has a monopoly on income tax. There is no way in which the states can refuse to take grants offered by the Commonwealth and they have to agree not to impose income tax to obtain the grants. The US states can impose income tax without any limit except for practical ones. The other aspect of this is to amend s 90 and allow the states to charge sales tax. That again is a power that US states possess. The fiscal position of the states is much better there, although not perfect, for that reason.

PB: It can be quite interesting in the US when you leave a store, check your receipts and notice the sale taxes are different from state to state.

SR: Yes, and there is competitive federalism there! I once was in Conneticut on the border with New York state. In Conneticut, you could not buy a beer on a Sunday. So we just drove ten minutes into New York state and got our beer!

PB: Continuing this federalist theme in our discussion, the Commonwealth Government's power to fund many schemes was struck a blow by the High Court's decision of Williams v Commonwealth (No 1).[10] Do you think this was a good decision, and do you think it will result in a more powerful role for the states in the future?

SR: I would not say it will give the states a more powerful role as state financial dependence on the Commonwealth continues. What it means, however, is that the Commonwealth cannot bypass the states in making a s 96 grant unless covered under a head of power or required by a national emergency. It limits the Commonwealth’s power to give direct grants to local authorities and private institutions. This was affirmed in Williams (No 2).[11] Of course, there is a level of cost involved in sending money through the states but in the long term it is for the benefit of fiscal federalism. However, it could be a pyrrhic victory if the local government amendment to the Constitution succeeds at a referendum.

PB: It’s like a game of Whack-a-Mole. Every time you think you’ve got the Commonwealth it just jumps up somewhere else.

SR: Yes, as someone said at a conference on the case, the Commonwealth is like a hydra. On the whole I think Williams is positive but it could be a pyrrhic victory. Both parties support the constitutional amendment to allow direct funding, because they want the legislative power.

PB: The Australian Constitution was based significantly off the American constitution. As Dr Ananian-Welsh has observed in a recent interview,[12] since the drafting of the Australian constitution many other constitutions (eg. the Indian Constitution) have been created. Are there any particular concepts Australian constitutional law can draw from the jurisprudence interpreting these constitutions?

SR: Certainly, we could take from the US Constitution and we have in the past around separation of powers issues and section 92. I do not think we have made enough use of American jurisprudence. What about those constitutions that came after our own? We have to be a little careful about that. There are different types of constitutions: federal presidential models, unitary presidential models, unitary parliamentary models, federal parliamentary models and the French hybrid model. Federal presidential models include US, Mexico, Brazil, Argentina and so on. Then you have federal parliamentary models (Australia, Canada, India, South Africa) and unitary parliamentary models (UK, NZ, Japan and many EU models).

One of the limitations on applying foreign jurisprudence in Australia is that we do not have a Bill of Rights. With regard to the Indian Constitution, the Indian Supreme Court until recently had developed a fairly sound body of jurisprudence regarding their Bill of Rights though of course we lack such provisions. However, in recent years, the Indian Supreme Court has gone mad in adopting its public interest jurisdiction. They have employed their Bill of Rights to do many different thing usurping the powers of the executive and legislature. They have basically taken the view that they can draft a law because the parliament has not done enough and this becomes the law until the parliament does otherwise. They also ordered all government motor cars to be run on natural gas. They have ordered bridges to be built to connect remote parts of the country. They have given instructions about foreign adoptions and basically legislated.

This came about due to a lack of confidence in the legislature and executive. The institution with the most credibility in the public eye is the Supreme Court. In any case, I would not like the High Court of Australia to imitate the activism of the Indian Supreme Court. That sort of culture will not fit in here where the political institutions are stronger. If they imitated the Indian Supreme Court, the public would come and chase them out of their courthouse!

What this illustrates is that in determining whether to adopt comparative jurisprudence you should not just look at the equivalence of the law but also consider the institutional qualities of the Court. There are two factors to consider: the equivalence of the law and the quality of the jurisprudence. The quality of the jurisprudence does not depend solely on the intellectual abilities of the judges. It depends on the conditions that bear on the independence, impartiality and integrity of the courts. What political pressures are they subject to? However, there is nothing wrong in reading their judgments and seeing what you can get out of it. You must be very careful in adopting some overseas precedents though.

PB: I suppose, however, with respect to the US Constitution our Constitution is more related to it and the institutions there are stronger. And I suppose something similar could be said about Europe?

SR: Exactly. Why don’t we look at Germany? Germany is a federation, and their Constitutional Court is very, very competent. To some extent we can use European Court of Human Rights’ judgments. However, I would hesitate about using jurisprudence from many other jurisdictions.

PB: In the case of Tajjour v NSW, handed down by the High Court last week, the High Court upheld the validity of NSW's anti-consorting laws. The High Court held that whilst the laws burdened the implied freedom of political communication, they could be justified as proportionate to the aim of preventing crime. Law enforcement issues aside, do you think cases such as Tajjour show a reluctance on the part of the Court to employ their implied rights jurisprudence to invalidate legislation?

SR: I do, actually. It is not easy for them to do it, however. I think drawing limits on implied rights is quite difficult. Once the burden on free speech is established it becomes a question of reasonableness of the limitations. That is where I think the Courts like to respect the judgment of Parliament rather than take it upon themselves.

There is one case where I think the Court should have decided the issue differently. That is APLA Ltd v Legal Services Commissioner (NSW)[13] where the Court ruled that the ban on advertising legal services did not violate free speech. Access to legal services in my opinion is essential to the functioning of representative democracy. Australia has a legal service industry that is one of the most tightly regulated in the world. This regulation makes legal service unaffordable to most people and imposes a heavy economic cost on the nation. In an increasingly complex legal system, having access to information about legal services is an essential condition for vindicating rights that are founded on democratically enacted laws. There is a direct link, I think, between the right to advertise legal services, – even if you exclude all other commercial advertising from the freedom – the rule of law and the democratic nature of the polity. Legal services are the ultimate way of vindicating individual rights. Accounting services are allowed to be advertised. If accounting services can be deregulated to that point, then why can’t lawyers be treated the same? It is old-fashioned protectionism.

PB: What do you think are the greatest threats to liberty and the rule of law in modern Australia?

SR: Without doubt, the greatest current threat is Jihadist terrorism. It is a threat in two ways. Firstly, the jihadist ideology rejects liberal institutions such as basic rights and the rule of law. Its main aim is to overturn the liberal way of life. Hence, it directly threatens  liberty and the rule law. Terrorism also affects liberty and the rule of law in an indirect way. It provokes democratic governments to take counter-terrorist measures that curb our liberties and erode the rule of law. There is a need for extraordinary measures to meet extraordinary threats. There is also a need for heightened vigilance to safeguard against excessive grants of power to governments, particularly unreviewable powers. Thus, this type of threat is not only harmful itself but has another effect that can also be quite dangerous. It is a responsibility of politicians to debate such powers with public servants, consider the other factors involved, take the people with them and strike a balance. Judicial oversight is one essential aspect that should not be given up. The other safeguard needed is to have a sunset clause. It cannot be such that these strong powers are an indefinite part of legal culture.

PB: What advice do you have for students who are nearing the end of their degrees?

SR: If you look at Res Ipsa last year, I had to write a message. If you excuse me, I will repeat a little bit of that: 

 “There no shortcuts to success for most of us. Genius is overrated. Industry, tenacity, integrity, reliability, trust, fellow feeling, courtesy, modesty, and dare I say, a bit of personal charm and decent luck are all helpful to success. Always play with a straight bat. But don’t let the pursuit of success consume you. If you do, you will miss out on some joys of life that are on offer for free.”

PB: It’s been an honour having you here teaching us all in Constitutional Law and Jurisprudence. What are your plans for retirement?

SR: I am looking forward to enjoying retirement. Watch more cricket! I will continue to research and write because that is something I have done for the joy of it and because of my passion for it. There are important things I want to continue to say in my writings. That will not stop. Other than that, I want to go and write travel books.

PB: Anywhere in particular?

SR: I am a fan of Europe, and Italy in particular. I have been there many times. I love the medieval cities and Renaissance architecture. There are so many cities I want to see in Europe. Hopefully, I can get there.

PB: Professor Ratnapala, thank you for speaking with Pandora’s Blog.

* Professor Suri Ratnapala (LLB(Hons) LLM PhD) is presently Professor of Public Law at the TC Beirne School of Law, University of Queensland where he has taught constitutional law, jurisprudence and legal method. After a distinguished career, Professor Ratnapala will be retiring from the University at the end of 2014. This interview was conducted at UQ on 15 October 2014 by Samuel Walpole and Tristan Pagliano. The interviewers wish to thank Will Isdale for his assistance in formulating questions and Balawyn Jones for her editorial assistance.

[1] (1996) 189 CLR 51.

[2] Forge v ASIC (2006) 228 CLR 45.

[3] See, eg. South Australia v Totani [2010] HCA 39.

[4] (2010) 239 CLR 531.

[5] Amalgamated Society of Engineers v Adelaide Steamship Co Ltd (1920) 28 CLR 129.

[6] New South Wales v Commonwealth (2006) 229 CLR 1.

[7] Melbourne Corporation v Commonwealth (1947) 74 CLR 31.

[8] Section 25 allows the states to disqualify particular people of races from voting in federal elections.

[9] Constitution s 51(xxxix).

[10] (2012) 248 CLR 156.

[11] [2014] HCA 23.

[12] ‘An Interview with Dr Rebecca Ananian-Welsh’ (2014) 21 Pandora’s Box 35.

[13] (2005) 224 CLR 32.

The Good, the Incarcerated and the Drunk: a reflection on Indigenous Australians and the criminal justice system

It is said that a picture paints a thousand words. With respect to Indigenous disadvantage, the same can be said about statistics. 

Despite making up only 2.5% of Australia’s population, Indigenous Australians account for 27.6% of the national jail population. In the Northern Territory, where Indigenous Australians are 30% of the population, they account for 85% of the jail population. Nationally, Indigenous adults are 15 times more likely to be imprisoned than their non-indigenous counterparts. The rate is even worse for Indigenous youth, who are 31 times more likely to be in jail than their counterparts.[1]

Australia’s Indigenous people are one of most imprisoned people groups in the world.[2] This mass-incarceration also has flow-on community effects, which should not be forgotten, such as an estimation that more than one in five Indigenous children will experience a parent in jail.[3] Perhaps most representative of the alarming disadvantage faced by Indigenous Australians is the fact that they are more likely to be re-incarcerated than to finish high school.[2] 

The over-representation of Indigenous Australians in the criminal justice system extends beyond imprisonment. In reality, the problem begins with police discretion regarding diversion, cautioning, arrest and charging, and continues to bail and sentencing options. At each stage, Indigenous Australians are less likely to benefit from an exercise of discretion and are more likely to receive a punitive option. The over-policing of Indigenous Australians also creates a multitude of problems, including charges for low-level offending that would otherwise remain undetected in non-Indigenous communities. Increased contact with police only increases the likelihood that an interaction will escalate and lead to the charges such as the ‘classic trifecta’ of resisting arrest, assaulting police and offensive language.[2] Cases like Police v Shannon Thomas Dunn highlight how easily this situation can arise.[4] In Dunn, a young Aboriginal man was approached by police in community on the suspicion that he was riding a stolen bike. An order to take the bike into custody, lead to Dunn swearing at police, which resulted in an altercation between the two groups and the classic trifecta of charges. When the case got to court, the theft charge had been dropped, leaving only the trifecta that ultimately arose from the original misuse of police discretion. 

Most confronting, however, is the continued rise in Indigenous imprisonment. In the 23 years since the landmark Royal Commission into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody, the Indigenous imprisonment rate has doubled. Such outcomes reflect a failure to address what has been, and remains, the cause of Indigenous crime: poor socioeconomic conditions and severe alcohol abuse and dependency.[5] Recent legislation in the Northern Territory only highlights the ongoing nature of this failure.

In an effort to reduce alcohol-driven crime, the Northern Territory recently introduced Alcohol Protection Orders (‘APOs’) and Alcohol Mandatory Treatment (‘AMT’). APOs are issued by the police to individuals who have allegedly committed a ‘qualifying offence’ where the police believe the individual was affected by alcohol at the time. A ‘qualifying offence’ is one that attracts a prison sentence of six months or more, anything from loitering to drink-driving to shoplifting. Individuals are subject to APOs for 3-12 months, and are restricted from consuming or possessing alcohol, and from entering licensed venues. Breaching an APO results in criminal charges and punishment of up to three months in jail and/or $3,600 in fines.[6] In contrast, AMT affects adults who have been taken into Police Protective Custody three or more times in two months for being intoxicated in public. After the third time, the individual is assessed to ascertain whether they meet the criteria for AMT and appears before the AMT Tribunal, which has the power to place the individual in a treatment service for up to three months or to impose community management schemes such as income management.[7]  

APOs and AMT essentially criminalise drinking and remove the civil liberties of innocent members of the community. Both legislative measures target chronic drinkers and alcoholics, however, the over-policing of the Indigenous population means that Aboriginal drinkers will most likely be targeted in practice. In response to complaints about APOs, the Minister for Alcohol Policy, David Tollner, said:

I find all these concerns illegitimate, but even if they were true, big deal. Big whoop, who cares? In many cases we do not care about the liberties we take away from [people  issued with APOs]. The fact is, we want these people off the streets.[8]

Tollner’s comment only further highlights the failure of these measures to address the social context in which alcohol is a cause of criminal behaviour. Taking drunk Indigenous Australians ‘off the streets’ and placing them into AMT or jails (for breaching their APOs) will not address alcoholism. While in the Northern Territory, I heard many stories from lawyers and locals in support of this fact, most commonly of people finishing their APO or leaving their AMT and walking straight into the nearest club or bottle store.

The above is not to say that Indigenous Australians do not wish to address issues of alcohol abuse and dependency. Rather, I want to suggest that laws and policies should not solely focus on imprisonment as the solution to Indigenous criminal behaviour. Laws and policies should seek to also address socioeconomic disadvantage and alcohol abuse as causes of crime. One such policy example is the justice reinvestment model, which advocates for savings in the corrections budget to be directed to communities with a high number of offenders. These savings are then to be used for programs aimed at addressing the social problems within that community, such as alcohol and drug treatment services, improved housing, and education programs. Only when we tackle both the cause and effect, will it be possible for us to ‘paint’ a different picture of what it is like to be an Indigenous Australian.

 

Steph Colquhoun recently completed a five week Aurora Project internship with the North Australian Aboriginal Justice Agency (‘NAAJA’ - Aboriginal Legal Aid) in Darwin, NT.

            To find out more about the Aurora Project: http://www.auroraproject.com.au/node/73

            To find out more about NAAJA: http://www.naaja.org.au/

 

[1] Australian Bureau of Statistics, ‘Prisoners in Australia’ (Report 4517.0, 2013).

[2] Melanie Schwartz, ‘Redressing Indigenous over-representation in the criminal justice system with justice reinvestment’ [2013] (September/October) Precedent 38.

[3] Michael Levy (2008) ‘Children of prisoners: an issue for courts to consider in sentencing’. Presentation to Federal Criminal Justice Forum, 29 September, Canberra. 

[4] See David Heilpern, ‘Police v Shannon Thomas Dunn’ (1999) 24(5) Alternative Law Journal 238. 

[5] Australian Bar Association, ‘Australian Bar Association again calls for urgent action to address unacceptable Indigenous imprisonment rates’ (Media Release, 1 August 2014).

[6] Alcohol Protection Orders Act 2013 (NT).

[7] Alcohol Mandatory Treatment Act 2014 (NT).

[8] Similar comments have been made by David Tollner on other occasions, as evident in articles such as this from the NT News, http://dev.video.ntnews.com.au/article/2012/10/19/314467_ntnews.html

The Honourable Justice Margaret McMurdo AC - JATL Annual Professional Breakfast Speech (09/10/14)

PROTECTING HUMAN RIGHTS AND CIVIL LIBERTIES IN QUEENSLAND WITHIN THE EXISTING LEGAL FRAMEWORK*^

&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Supreme Court Library&nbsp;Queensland

        Supreme Court Library Queensland

For tens of thousands of years before European contact, the Turrbal people, and on the other side of the Brisbane River, the Jagera people, prospered on this land, often meeting over shared food to discuss important issues. I honour their Elders, past and present, as we continue that ancient tradition this morning.

Thank you for leaving the comfort of your cosy beds so early to be part of JATL's discourse on civil liberties and human rights, an issue of universal concern, especially to clever, compassionate, aspiring lawyers like you.  Protecting clients' rights and, where necessary, enforcing them under the rule of law in independent courts is a lawyer's key business. 

I need not remind this audience that Australia remains the only democratic nation in the world without a statutory charter of rights.  And at a State level, unlike Victoria[1] and the ACT[2], Queensland does not have a Human Rights Act.  Personally, I support an Australian charter of rights, generally of the kind recommended in the National Human Rights Consultation Report.[3]  I have stated my reasons in the past[4] and will not repeat them today.  The reality is that presently there is little appetite on either side of mainstream politics for a federal or Queensland statutory bill of rights.  I am comforted, however, that such things can change quickly.  Today I will speak to you, the future leaders of the legal profession and wider community, about how human rights can be protected within our existing legal framework.  Indeed, the very effectiveness of this framework has been the most powerful argument against the introduction of a charter.  After all, at least since the second half of the 20th century, Australia without a bill of rights has done better in protecting civil liberties than most of the world's nations with bills of rights.  

Not bad considering our unpromising beginnings as a nation and State: a prison colony at Port Jackson in 1788 and another at Moreton Bay in 1825, where there was little concern for the civil liberties of prisoners, let alone for those of the Cadigal, Turrbal and Jagera peoples whose lands we took with neither treaty nor fair compensation and too often with shameful brutality, applying the now discredited concept of Terra Nullius. 

I will speak first this morning of common law rights.  I will then discuss the rights provided by the Commonwealth Constitution and then briefly discuss rights created by statute. 

Common law rights

Blackstone[5] identified three primary common law rights: personal security, personal liberty and private property.  Auxiliary common law rights include access to the courts; legal professional privilege; privilege against self-incrimination; immunity from the extension by a court of the scope of a penal statute; freedom from extension by a court of governmental immunity; immunity from interference with vested property rights; access to legal counsel when accused of a serious crime; not to be unlawfully deprived of liberty; procedural fairness when affected by the exercise of public power; and freedom of speech and movement.[6]

Lady Hale, the sole woman member of the UK Supreme Court, recently observed that many of the notable successful rights challenges in recent years in the UK have been founded in the common law, including the rejection of the admission of evidence obtained by torture.[7]  In A (No 2)[8] Lord Bingham observed that the English common law had regarded torture and its fruits with abhorrence for over 500 years.  And, Lady Hale explained, it was the common law which enabled the media in the Guardian News case to access court documents placed before a judge in open court proceedings.[9] 

Common law rights, unlike a constitutionally entrenched bill of rights, can be modified or extinguished by parliament but only where parliament expressly and unequivocally states that intention.[10]   This means that parliament must publicly confront the electorate over any ensuing political controversy.[11]   These principles were applied for the benefit of the falsely accused terrorist, Dr Haneef.[12]  The Federal Court took a strict view of the statutory provisions allowing the Minister to cancel a visa on character grounds and held that merely being a relative or friend of a person involved in criminal conduct was insufficient to demonstrate bad character.

The common law is organic so that common law rights are not a closed category as the seminal case in the relationship between and reconciliation of Indigenous Australians and non-Indigenous Australians, Mabo (No 2),[13] demonstrates.  For the first time, Indigenous native title was recognised as part of the common law of Australia with the rejection of the concept of Terra Nullius.

Rights under the Constitution

I turn now to rights under our Commonwealth Constitution.  Regrettably, one reason why many of the human rights guaranteed in the US Constitution were not included in ours was because in 1901 most colonies were concerned not to restrict their ability to make laws limiting the employment of Asian workers.[14] 

Unsurprisingly then that human rights protection for non-white Australians in the early days of federation was unimpressive as demonstrated by Muramats case in 1923.[15] Japanese-born Jiro Muramats became a naturalised Australian in Victoria before moving to Western Australia where he sought to enrol to vote federally.  The High Court found that his Japanese origin made him an "Aboriginal native of … Asia … or the islands of the Pacific" so that he was statutorily prohibited from voting in Western Australia and therefore ineligible to vote federally. 

By contrast these days, the High Court is reluctant to disenfranchise citizens. It held that the constitutional right to vote protected under sections 7 and 24 of the Constitution could not be subverted by Commonwealth legislation disenfranchising prisoners where there was no distinction between short and long term prisoners and their relative culpability.  A substantial reason was required before disqualifying an eligible person from voting.  The disenfranchising of prisoners serving sentences of three years or more, however, had proper regard to the seriousness of their offending, their culpability and their temporary unfitness to participate in the electoral process.

After the horrors of World War Two, an optimistic spirit of internationalism emerged with the 1948 United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights in which Australian, Dr H V Evatt, played a pivotal role.  From that point in time, Australia's infamous White Australia Policy was gradually dismantled. Today’s Australians identify with 300 ancestries and languages and are united in pride for their cultural diversity, recognising it as a source of social and economic wealth. 

Also in 1948, the High Court in the Bank Nationalisation case[16] rejected as unconstitutional the Commonwealth's legislative attempt to nationalise banking.  It was outside the Commonwealth's power to make laws with respect to the acquisition of property on just terms [17] This case is now authority for imposing a just terms requirement whenever the Commonwealth compulsorily acquires property belonging to the State or to a person.[18]  In 2009, the High Court applied this just terms requirement to Commonwealth laws[19] providing for the Northern Territory's acquisition of property rights conferred on Indigenous people under land rights legislation.[20]

In 1951 in the Australian Communist Party case,[21] the High Court held invalid Commonwealth legislation declaring the Communist Party an unlawful organisation.[22]  Importantly, Dixon J emphasised that the Constitution was framed in accordance with many traditional conceptions, to some of which, including the separation of powers, it specifically gave effect.  Others, including the rule of law, were properly assumed.  The impugned legislation offended both concepts.[23]  Michael Kirby AC has referred to Dixon J's wise words as worth remembering at times like the present when "unrestrained voices are raised urging us to cast aside our traditional liberties in response to the perceived threat of terrorism".[24]

The High Court took the notion of assumed rights under the Constitution to new levels on 30 September 1992 when it handed down two ground breaking decisions.  In Australian Capital Television[25] a Commonwealth law imposing a blanket prohibition on political advertisements on radio or television during federal election periods was held invalid as infringing the implied constitutionally guaranteed freedom of political discussion.  While this right does not confer individual rights, it invalidates legislation inconsistent with it.

Nationwide News[26] concerned the statutory prosecution under a Commonwealth Act of The Australian newspaper for contempt after it published strident criticism of the Australian Industrial Relations Commission.  The High Court held the provision was invalid as infringing the implied freedom of political discussion.

Two years later in Theophanous,[27] the High Court extended this implied freedom to provide the defence of qualified privilege to a defamation where the subject matter was political. 

And in 1997 in Lange v ABC,[28] the High Court qualified Theophanous.  Whilst confirming that the Constitution implied a right of freedom of communication in relation to government and political issues, the court explained that there was a two step process in determining whether a law infringed that right.  The first was whether the law burdened political communication.  The second was whether it was appropriate and adapted to an end consistent with the system of representative and responsible government established by the Constitution.  The Lange principles have been applied in many subsequent cases.[29]

Perhaps surprisingly, section 75(v) Constitution has proved a rich source of rights-based jurisprudence.  It gives the High Court jurisdiction in any matter "in which a writ of Mandamus or prohibition or an injunction is sought against an officer of the Commonwealth".  This has allowed the High Court to prevent public officials, including Ministers of the Crown, from exceeding their lawful power.  The High Court may require Ministers or officials to discharge a duty imposed upon them by law.  The Court can also quash a decision made in excess of power.  The entrenchment of this provision in the Constitution means that this original High Court jurisdiction cannot be removed by statute.[30] 

An important example of a human rights case brought under this provision is the Malaysian solution case.[31]  The High Court held that the Migration Act[32] did not provide a power to remove from Australia to Malaysia those seeking refugee status (off-shore entry persons).[33]   The Minister's declaration that Malaysia was a country to which such people could be taken was invalid.[34]  As Malaysia was not obliged either under international or domestic law to provide access to the procedures and protections contained in the Migration Act, a valid declaration could not be made.[35] Further, an unaccompanied asylum seeker under 18 could not lawfully be taken from Australia without the Minister's written consent.[36]  The Court declared the Minister’s declaration invalid and granted an injunction restraining the Minister from removing the 16 year old plaintiff.

Some provisions in the Constitution provide specific human rights.  These include the right to trial by jury for Commonwealth indictable offences[37] which, the High Court has held,[38] requires unanimous verdicts in such trials.

 Another is the guarantee of freedom of trade, commerce and intercourse among the States under section 92 of the Constitution.[39]  From all the cases concerning section 92, I was taken with Dulcie Johnson’s story. In 1945 she was refused a war-time permit to travel from South Australia to Western Australia to visit her fiancé as a bureaucrat deemed her reason for travel was inadequate.  The High Court, always a softie for true love, struck down the national security regulation which provided for travel between States only with a permit.

The Constitution prohibits the Commonwealth from establishing any religion, from imposing any religious observance, from prohibiting the free exercise of any religion or from requiring a religious test for any Commonwealth office or public trust.[40]

Discrimination between residents of States is prohibited under section 117 Constitution.[41]  In 1989, the High Court relied on section 117 to strike down rules relating to the admission of barristers of the Supreme Court of Queensland which required those seeking admission to be Queensland residents or to intend to practise principally in Queensland.[42]

Chapter III of the Constitution deals with the judicature and, since Kable's case[43] in 1996, has become a significant source of rights-based law.  The New South Wales parliament passed an Act authorising the continued detention of Kable in prison for a specified period after the completion of his sentence if the Supreme Court was satisfied he was more likely than not to commit a serious act of violence.  The High Court held the Act was unconstitutional as incompatible with the integrity, independence and impartiality of the Supreme Court as a court in which federal jurisdiction had been invested under Chapter III. 

More recently in Totani[44] the High Court, applying Kable, struck down an Act requiring a Magistrates Court, in specified circumstances, to make a control order against a member of a declared organisation.  The plurality[45] considered the Act was invalid as it authorised the executive to enlist the Magistrates Court to implement executive decisions in a manner incompatible with the proper discharge of the Magistrates Court's federal judicial responsibilities and with its institutional integrity. 

These Chapter III questions are likely to feature  when the High Court hands down its decision, presently reserved, concerning the constitutionality of the Vicious Lawless Association Disestablishment Act 2013 (Qld) in Kuczborski v The State of Queensland.[46]

Rights created by statute

There are a multitude of statutes which create rights.  The most prominent at a federal level are the Racial Discrimination Act 1975 (Cth) which has had critical provisions controversially suspended during the Northern Territory intervention and as a result of welfare legislation;[47] Sex Discrimination Act 1984 (Cth); Australian Human Rights Commission Act 1986 (Cth); Disability Discrimination Act 1992 (Cth) and Age Discrimination Act 2004 (Cth).  Queensland legislation most obviously includes the Anti-Discrimination Act 1991 (Qld). 

Australia is a signatory to most international conventions concerning human rights, including the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights; the Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples; the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide; Convention on the Political Rights of Women; the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination; the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women; the Convention Against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman and Degrading Treatment or Punishment; the Convention on the Rights of the Child; the Convention on the Reduction of Statelessness; the Convention Relating to the Status of Stateless Persons; Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees; Slavery Convention of 1926; Supplementary Convention on Slavery; and Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities.  While these international conventions are not part of Australian domestic law, they may be considered in construing domestic statutes and ascertaining legislative intent.  In the absence of a clear contrary intent, courts can conclude that legislatures intend to pass laws consistent with them.[48]

The importance of developing a strong community-based human rights and civil liberties culture and the fact that human rights can be protected by unlikely statutes is illustrated by a recent positive Queensland development. Following a complaint early this year (without which, I emphasise, none of this would have happened), the Queensland Ombudsman investigated the practice of strip searching up to twice a day women prisoners receiving certain prescribed medications in the Townsville Women's Correctional Centre.  The practice ceased once the Ombudsman's Office began enquiries, but the Ombudsman nevertheless reported its conclusions to parliament.  These were that the practice was unlawful, unreasonable, disproportionate and contrary to the purpose of the Corrective Services Act 2006 (Qld), section 3, which refers to "the humane containment, supervision and rehabilitation of offenders" and "recognises that every member of society has certain basic human entitlements, and that, for this reason, an offender's entitlements, other than those that are necessarily diminished because of imprisonment or another court sentence, should be safeguarded" and "the need to respect an offender's dignity" and the special needs of some offenders by taking into account "age, sex or cultural background; and … any disability".  It is pleasing that the Ombudsman's recommendations were accepted unconditionally by the executive.  The report also underlines the limited means prisoners have to advocate about breaches of rights.[49]

Conclusion

I hope this review demonstrates that, even without an Australian charter of rights, the common law, our Constitution, statutory law and the international conventions to which Australia is a party, play a pivotal role in protecting human rights and civil liberties.  As future lawyers, you can best protect human rights by raising community awareness so that people expect the legislature, executive and judiciary to protect not only their rights but also those of the most vulnerable.  When human rights become entrenched in the hearts and minds of citizens, government will listen.  We may even get that Australian charter of rights. 

Some of you may work as lawyers in academia or in policy. You may be able to educate the community through oral and written public advocacy. Joining organisations like JATL is a good start.  When you leave UQ you may consider Amnesty’s LINK, the Council for Civil Liberties or become active in human rights committees in your professional organisations.

Some of you may become advocates in the courts where you may be able to raise human rights arguments.  Your generation of lawyers is much better educated in human rights jurisprudence than mine.  You think in a rights-based way.  While recognising the spectre of unfavourable costs orders, I urge you to be courageous and think laterally in putting forward legitimate rights-based contentions.  If you do not, who will?  Remember it is almost impossible for courts to develop rights-based jurisprudence if no-one raises the argument.  Do not be discouraged if initially unsuccessful.  Consider whether an appeal is advisable.  If not, learn from the experience and refine and improve your rights-based arguments for the next opportunity. 

Issues which require your immediate advocacy include:

  • ensuring the Constitution is amended appropriately to recognise the unique and seminal role of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Australians in the history of our nation;
  • remembering that every person has basic human entitlements and protecting the rights of asylum seekers in Australia in accordance with our international obligations. This is particularly difficult when the legislature and executive do not permit citizens to know the circumstances of the arrival or the conditions of detention of asylum seekers, including children, whilst their applications are processed; and
  • in an age of understandable rising fear of terrorism from those with no respect for human rights, ensuring that the community remains vigilant to minimise any necessary, temporary incursions into civil liberties for security reasons.

Well, after all that I think you deserve a CPD point! I hope my infringement of your human right to sleep in on a cloudy Thursday morning has been as short as possible or, at least, can be justified as a special measure.

*     The Honourable Justice Margaret McMurdo AC, President, Court of Appeal, Supreme   Court of Queensland.

^    I gratefully acknowledge the research and editing assistance of my associate, Ms Anne      Crittall, and the secretarial and editing assistance of my executive assistant, Ms Andrea             Suthers.

[1]           The Charter of Human Rights and Responsibilities Act 2006 (Vic).

[2]           Human Rights Act 2004 (ACT).

[3]           National Human Rights Consultation Report (September 2009).

[4]           See An Australian Human Rights Act; Quixotic Impossible Dream or Inevitable natural Progression; Southern Cross University, Michael Kirby Human Rights Lecture 2010, 3 September 2010; (2009-10) 13 Southern Cross University Law Review 37-55.

[5]           William Blackstone, Commentaries on the Law of England (1765-1769) Vol 1, "Of the Absolute Rights of Individuals".

[6]           French CJ, Protecting Human Rights Without a Bill of Rights, John Marshall Law School, Chicago, 26 January 2010, 26-27.

[7]           Keynote Address to the Constitutional and Administrative Law Bar Association Conference 2014, UK Constitutionalism on the March? 12 July 2014.

[8]           A v Secretary of State for the Home Department (No 2) [2005] UKHL 71; [2006] 2 AC 221.

[9]           R (Guardian News and Media Ltd) v City of Westminster Magistrates' Court [2012] EWCA Civ 420; [2013] QB 618.

[10]          Potter v Minahan (1908) 7 CLR 277; Plaintiff S157/2002 v Commonwealth (2003) 211 CLR 476, 492 (Gleeson CJ); Al-Kateb v Godwin (2004) 219 CLR 562, 577 (Gleeson CJ), citing Coco v The Queen (1994) 179 CLR 427.

[11]          R v Secretary of State for the Home Department; ex parte Simms [2000] 2 AC 115, 131.

[12]          Minister for Immigration and Citizenship v Haneef (2007) 163 FCR 414.

[13]          Mabo v Queensland (No 2) (1992) 175 CLR 1.

[14]          Byrnes A, Charlesworth H and McKinnon G, Bills of Rights in Australia: History, Politics         and Law (UNSW Press, 2009), 25; Williams G, Human Rights Under the Australian Constitution (Oxford University Press, 1999), 37-42; French CJ, Protecting Human Rights Without a Bill of Rights, John Marshall Law School, Chicago, 26 January 2010, 3-4.

[15]          Muramats v Commonwealth Electoral Officer (WA) (1923) 32 CLR 500.

[16]          Bank of New South Wales v The Commonwealth (1948) 76 CLR 1.

[17]          Constitution, s 51(xxxi).

[18]          Bank of New South Wales v The Commonwealth (1948) 76 CLR 1, Dixon J, 349.

[19]          Wurridjal v The Commonwealth (2009) 237 CLR 309.

[20]          Aboriginal Land Rights (Northern Territory) Act 1976 (Cth).

[21]          Australian Communist Party v The Commonwealth (1951) 83 CLR 1.

[22]          The Communist Party Dissolution Act 1950 (Cth).

[23]          Australian Communist Party v The Commonwealth (1951) 83 CLR 1, 193.

[24]        Michael Kirby AC, "Judicial Activism: Power Without Responsibility? No, Appropriate            Activism Conforming to Duty"(2006) Melbourne University Law Review 3, 576-593, 579.

[25]          Australian Capital Television Pty Ltd v The Commonwealth (1992) 177 CLR 106.

[26]          Nationwide News Pty Ltd v Wills (1992) 177 CLR 1.

[27]          Theophanous v Herald and Weekly Times Limited (1994) 182 CLR 104.

[28]          Lange v Australian Broadcasting Corporation (1997) 189 CLR 520.

[29]          Unions New South Wales v New South Wales (2013) 304 ALR 266; Attorney-General (SA) v Corporation of the City of Adelaide (2013) 249 CLR 1; Wotton v State of Queensland (2012) 246 CLR 1; Hogan v Hinch (2011) 243 CLR 506; Roach v Electoral Commissioner (2007) 233 CLR 162; Coleman v Power (2004) 220 CLR 1; Mulholland v Australian Electoral Commission (2004) 220 CLR 181; Roberts v Bass (2002) 212 CLR 1; and Levy v State of Victoria (1997) 189 CLR 579.

[30]          French CJ, Protecting Human Rights Without a Bill of Rights, John Marshall Law School, Chicago, 26 January 2010, 12.

[31]          Plaintiff M70/2011 v Minister for Immigration and Citizenship [2011] HCA 32; (2011) 244 CLR 144; (2011) 85 ALJR 891.

[32]          Migration Act 1958 (Cth).

[33]          [2011] HCA 32, [54], [55], [95], [237].

[34]          Above, [68], [136], [255].

[35]          Above, [109], [116], [118], [125], [126], [130].

[36]          Immigration (Guardianship of Children) Act 1946 (Cth). 

[37]          Constitution, s 80.

[38]          Cheatle v R (1993) 177 CLR 541.

[39]          Constitution, s 92.

[40]          Constitution, s 116.

[41]          Constitution, s 117.

[42]          Street v Queensland Bar Association [1989] HCA 53; (1989) 168 CLR 461.

[43]          Kable v Director of Public Prosecutions (NSW) (1996) 189 CLR 51.

[44]          South Australia v Totani (2010) 242 CLR 1.

[45]          French CJ, Gummow, Hayne, Crennan, Kiefel and Bell JJ.

[46]          [2014] HCA TRANS 187 (2 September 2014).

[47]          See Australian Human Rights Commission, The Suspension and Reinstatement of the RDA Rights and Special Measures.

[48]          Yeo v Attorney-General for the State of Queensland [2011] QCA 170, [52]-[61] citing Attorney-General v Fardon [2003] QSC 331, [19]-[24]; Fardon v Attorney-General (Qld) (2004) 223 CLR 575; Kable v Director of Public Prosecutions (NSW) (1996) 189 CLR 51; Attorney-General v Sybenga [2009] QCA 382; Minister for Immigration and Ethnic Affairs v Teoh (1995) 183 CLR 273; Chu Kheng Lim v Minister for Immigration, Local Government and Ethnic Affairs (1992) 176 CLR 1, Brennan, Deane and Dawson JJ, 38; Mason CJ agreeing, 10.

[49]          Report of the Queensland Ombudsman, "The Strip Searching of Female Prisoners Report: An investigation into the strip search practices at Townsville Women’s Correctional Centre", September 2014.

Refugee and Immigration Legal Service - Wendy Pei

A few months ago, I tidied up my eighteen month volunteering experience with the Refugee and Immigration Legal Service (RAILS), finishing up with the influx of Iraqi client claims we were receiving due to the Islamic State developments in Iraq. Over the past year and a half, I have come to learn many practical things in regards to legal research and writing, as well as experiencing, at arm’s length, the plight of refugees. Each lesson has been valuable in not only shaping the way I understand the world, but also, the legal profession. 

At RAILS, I would work with a certain caseworker for each semester. As I was there for three semesters in total, I had the privilege of working with three different solicitors and migration agents, including the principal solicitor, each exposing me to a different area of immigration law. RAILS provides a myriad of legal services for refugees in need, ranging from every day advice to High Court judicial review cases. The three main areas it focuses on are: protection visas (both offshore and onshore), permanent residence visas for victims of family violence and family reunification. In an average day, I would do anything from calling clients to writing draft submissions for the Department of Immigration and Border Protection or tribunals, delivering court documents or sitting in on client interviews. On the odd occasion, I even had to child mind. I was also lucky enough to work on a few high profile cases that garnered media attention over the eighteen months. Through the varied work I did at RAILS, here are the things that I have learnt and taken to heart.

Firstly, injustice is in the ‘form’ of law, as well as the ‘letter’. 

When we think of injustice in regards to refugees, we often think of the draconian and illegal policies dished out by politicians and translated into legislation. What I’ve learnt at RAILS is that injustice is much more than that; it is bound up in the processes of how the law is administered. Injustice is using an interpreter that the client objects to, it is refusing to conduct an interview face to face, it is forming bias before a case is heard. It is also embodied in the rapid change of migration laws, as well as the retrospective operation of some laws. There is also injustice in the long waiting periods for bureaucracy to work its magic. In the nine months that someone is waiting for a family reunification application to succeed, their family could easily be killed. The stripping away of funding for boat arrivals, as well as a narrow focus on advocacy from the government is also akin to taking away legal representation.

Secondly, domestic violence is a dangerously rampant, but hidden crime.

Before working at RAILS, I thought I had a firm grasp of what family violence (usually against women) entailed and the frequency of these incidents occurring. But when I started volunteering at RAILS, I was exposed and confronted with the realities of the brutalities committed against women in PNG and the mass scale of such crimes in certain regions of the nation [as discussed last week in the piece by Tasman Bain, see below]. I am so thankful for organisations such as Meri Toksave that are actively working to improve the dire situation that currently exists. I began to see case after case of women living in Brisbane come forth with their long histories of abuse. It was then that I realised that violence against women, despite all the mechanisms we have in Australia to prevent such things happening, is still being perpetrated on too many occasions. Yet due to the sensitive and private nature of the issue, we rarely hear about it.

Thirdly, and perhaps the most relevant to law students, I learnt that as students who have had the privilege to study law, we have an immense potential to impact society and promote change and reform.

Being law students, where we are given the opportunity to study and understand the law, grants us a lot of power. Though it may not feel like it all the time, we are in an incredibly advantaged position to influence those around us. By being literate in what the law really is, we can engage in constructive discussions about the legality of current asylum seeker policies, we can emphasise the flaws in the current legal system. We can go forth among the disadvantaged and lend our services for free and promote access to justice. We can do all this, just as students.

Even though I was just a humble day volunteer, I was in a position where I was able to work with the clients and caseworkers with a lot of flexibility. I got to spend time with clients, listening to their stories in between small chats and making them feel welcome and cared for in what may often seem like a hostile and cold environment. And despite the menial tasks I did, by supporting my caseworkers, I was able to free them up to do more important jobs, as RAILS is stretched by its limited resources. Every little bit counts when often someone’s life is quite literally on the line. As a law student I saw how far my little bit of work every week could go. And despite the many disappointments and sad encounters I shared with our refugee clients, my greatest reward lay in the times where RAILS did win a case for a deserving fellow human being – one who just wanted security and the freedom to live. There is rarely a better feeling than being at the receiving end of a client’s gratitude.

If you are interested in volunteering at RAILS, please visit http://www.rails.org.au/volunteer/