An exercise in ‘procedural fairness’
Perth, 25 September: Today broke my heart a little. I sat in court watching a friend try to conduct his own judicial review of his asylum application.
Sat and watched his hands shake when the answer to his question, “Is that my lawyer?” was, “No, that is the lawyer for the government”, and he realised he was there alone. To plead for his life. To convince a judge, in a language not his own, in a system completely opaque to him, what it was about his Refugee Review Tribunal decision that denied him procedural fairness.
In some respects he did a credible job. He did manage to explain why he was late filing his appeal (he thought his lawyer did it, he was certain she said she did), and issues he had with changing lawyers. He did not know what was meant by “submission” and was clearly confused he could not submit any new evidence on why his community is unsafe. He thought that was his submission.
He could not have known that what was wanted was a forensic analysis of the Refugee Review Tribunal decision and where exactly they had denied him procedural fairness.
He mistakenly believed that there was some utility in holding up a photo of his young daughter and in a broken voice pleading for both her life and his own.
Four Serco officers escorted him in. Two gripped his arms and two flanked him on the way out.
I thought how terrifying it must be to stand in a foreign court and plead for your life. How daunting, even for a man who did so with five Taliban bullets still lodged in his body. A man who has endured more suffering than any of us can imagine.
I almost hoped he did not know how desperate his situation is, but he noted, “I am an illiterate farmer, a simple man. How can I go up against a lawyer for the government who knows the law? I don’t know about these things.”
What I witnessed in that court today shamed me. It was not anything resembling justice. It was a travesty.
How the judge and government QC could participate in such an absurdity is beyond me. And now we wait for a decision. And a man with five Taliban bullets in his body waits to be told why it was procedurally fair to tell him it is safe to go home.
