Individual
reports:
Report Nº 8
18/04/05
Guillermo Presa Suárez,
Vice president, ESCULCA
Chronicle of a day at the trial
against Jarrai-Haika-Segi at the Audiencia Nacional
As a member
of ESCULCA, Observatorio para os direitos e liberdades
fundamentais de Galiza, I was invited to attend
the trial being conducted at the 4th Section of
the Penal Court at the Audiencia Nacional against
members of JARRAI-HAIKA-SEGI, charged with membership
of an armed group in cases 18/01 and 15/02, investigated
by Baltasar Garzón.
Upon arrival
at the court I was introduced to the observers
from Catalunya and Argentina, and I was offered
the possibility of wearing my gown and sit among
the lawyers for the defence. I turned down this
kind offer as I was more interested in what was
happening around the proceedings, further than
the legal aspects themselves, because that day,
the bulk of the activity in the courtroom was
to do with the concluding remarks by the public
prosecution. Therefore, I sat amongst the public,
close to the observer sent by the Basque regional
government.
The Courtroom,
which in Audiencia Nacional slang is called the
“large bullet-proof room”, is made
up of three different spaces: one for the public,
about 20 metres square, with long benches and
separated from the hearings area by bullet-proof
glass, which also prevents sound coming in directly
from the hearings area (it comes in via a set
of speakers); the hearings area is divided into
two spaces, one small area where the incarcerated
defendants sit is also surrounded with bullet-proof
glass and the rest of the courtroom where the
defendants who are not in jail sit, opposite the
members of the Tribunal and on one side of the
lawyers fro the defence and the prosecution.
There were
not as many people at the hearing as on other
days, perhaps because the trial had been going
for almost a month. The public was a curious mix,
including relatives of the defendants (wearing
the same T-shirts as the latter, red, with a motto
in Euskara) relatives of ETA victims (also wearing
T-shirts, with Spanish flags and slogans in favour
of the policy of prisoner dispersal and the Spanish
Constitution), journalists, Audiencia Nacional
security staff, plainclothes members of the intelligence
services and observers.
The relatives
of the defendants, overcoming their sorrow (the
jailed defendants had spent almost four years
in jail awaiting trial) were cheery and before
the beginning of each session and during the breaks
would go right up to the bullet-proof glass and
attempted to talk to the defendants, having to
use signs, which all made for a sadly comical
scene of sign language-shouted conversations.
The jailed defendants also communicated with their
co-defendants in the courtroom, making gestures
indicating hugs and attempting to cheer each other
up. I was later able to talk to one of the defendants’
mother, who, with great fortitude, told me about
the long journeys she had had to make for four
years in order to visit her son.
The relatives
of the victims were the only ones with reserved
seating, at the first bench, right next to the
jailed defendants; this was clearly intended as
an attempt to, make visual contact between the
latter and their families and friends more difficult.
Most of these victims were women and sat in a
sombre mood. I tried to talk to one of them, but
as soon as I revealed the reason I was at the
trial that day, she refused to talk to me.
I was also
able to talk to two of the defendants who had
been released from jail upon fulfilling the maximum
legal stay in jail awaiting trial (four years)
and I was surprised, due to my professional experience
with inmates, upon not being able to identify
any signs that the four years they had spent in
jail had affected them at all (jailification of
the personality is a phenomenon that psychologists
have studied in depth)
The Tribunal
was made up of the chair, who only intervened
to agree the recesses with the public prosecution;
Mr. Ferraz, a young judge who was quite attentive
throughout the session, and Mr. Ollero, who was
the deponent. This judge was involved in a rather
peculiar episode at the Fourth Section of the
Penal Court. All three of its former members were
disqualified by the Consejo General del Poder
Judicial (General Council for the Judicial Power)
as a consequence of their actions in a case against
a drug trafficker who was released from jail and
then absconded (other hypotheses indicate that
the true reason was the fact that this Section
had consistently reversed judge Garzón’s
actions and rejected his thesis, which criminalises
the whole of the Basque movement). The disqualification
was later reversed by the Supreme Court, but Mr.
Ollero was the only one who was reinstated to
his former post; he was also, coincidentally,
the only one of the three judges who supported
Garzón’s thesis and disagreed with
his former colleagues.
The defence
was made up of six lawyers, who worked on their
laptops or took notes, without taking part at
any point during this session. Between them and
the prosecution sat a large pile of assorted boxes
(which had contained, yoghourts, mayonnaise, biscuits…)
holding the large volume of documents for the
proceedings.
The state
prosecutor showed he controlled the situation,
he was eloquent and his speech was well structured
and measured, to the point that he would propose
the breaks whenever he saw the people in the courtroom
were tiring of his monologue (he spoke all morning,
all afternoon, and continued the following day),
he knew all the tricks of the trade and showed
he was good at building castles in the air.
He went
through the well-known theory that the youth organisations
JARRAI-HAIKA and SEGI are part of an organisational
network designed by ETA as far back as 1974 and
that these organisations follow ETA’s instructions;
therefore, the members of these organisations
actually have a covert double level of activism
and the mere membership of one of these organisations
means they are also members of ETA.
The public
prosecutor acknowledged that it is possible to
share ETA’s aims without this being a crime,
as in order to commit a crime there must be an
objective element such as belonging to the armed
group or providing means or carrying out actions
which aid armed struggle, and he argued that taking
part in the youth organisations is the objective
element that the penal definition requires. However,
in order to reach that conclusion he asked the
Tribunal to stray from classical jurisprudence,
which involves a limited definition of the concept
of armed group, in order to help to overcome the
old concept of terrorism which is now obsolete,
according to his view.
I found
the circumstantial evidence weak. For instance,
the non-ratified statements made in police custody
(which cannot be used, according to jurisprudence,
as they lack the guarantee of judicial intervention);
the “intelligence” reports compiled
by the police (which, again according to the jurisprudence,
are not evidence in themselves and the assertions
of which must be proven); the seized documents,
some of which had no known author, and their translation
from the Basque, which was criticised; in addition,
I was told that most of these documents were not
originally included in these proceedings and had
been taken from other cases; finally, the attempts
to distort the statements of the witnesses for
the defence, including trying to imply that the
fact that one of the witnesses, a jailed member
of ETA, had said hello to the defendants was an
incriminating element.
I was surprised
by the Public Prosecutor’s decision to drop
the charges against five of the young men and
women (some of which had spent over a year in
jail) due to the small number of their conversations
that had been tapped. This is a quantitative criterion,
with little legal rigour; in any case, the content
of those recordings should have been the reason
for dropping the charges. I was also surprised
by the reduction in the sentence request from
12 to 10 years, which could in fact mean a change
to the definition of membership of an armed group
(6 to 12 years in jail, art 516 of the Penal Code)
to that of co-operation with an armed group (5
to 10 years, art. 576 of the Penal Code) and relinquishing
the initial request to attribute the responsibility
for damages to Herri Batasuna, all of which goes
against the “it is all ETA” thesis.
The private
prosecution, surprisingly, given the maximalism
it professes, supported the changes made by the
Public Prosecutor and dropped the charges of genocide
(!) it had brought and was defending on its own.
A few days
later, once the hearings had finished, the Tribunal
made another surprising decision: the release
of all the defendants, which was opposed, with
an individual vote, by Mr. Ollero.
The remaining
incarcerated defendants had not yet fulfilled
the four year limit for incarceration awaiting
trial and, although some of them were quite close
to the limit, others still had several months
to go; so the general impression was that, as
happened with the previously released defendants,
the court would wait until the time limit was
up to release them little by little.
This kind
of decisions has happened before when a Tribunal,
once the court hearings are over, has arrived
at a conclusion favourable to acquittal whereby
it has the constitutional obligation not to extend
restriction of freedom in those conditions, even
if the verdict and sentence with its reasoning
have not yet come out.
May this
point at a possible acquittal for all the defendants?
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