314 citiri

Le droit est un phénomène de culture humaine, plus précisément, une phénomène social. Il existe dans les relations avec autrui (altérité du droit), dans le cadre d’une société organisée (socialité du droit). Le droit n’existe tout d’abord que dans les relations avec autrui; pour Robinson, dans son île, il n’y a pas de droit. De cette altérité résulte le caractère extérieur du droit.
Celui-ci ne concerne les intentions humaines que pour autant qu’elles sont extériorisées en des relations sensibles avec autrui.
En ce sens, la sphere la plus intime de la personnalité humaine et de ses relations est inaccessible au droit. L’impératif moral qui se dégagé pour l’homme de la poursuite de sa propre perfection reste en dehors des visées du droit. Si la loi prend en consideration, p. ex., l’ivresse, ce n’est pas en vue de la perfection morale des sujets, mais seulement dans la mesure ou l’ivresse constitue un danger pour autrui et un fléau social.

Pierre Pescatore
(Introduction à la science du droit, ed. Bruylant, 2009, a doua reimprimare, la p. 420)

A CINCEA ELEGIE
Tentația realului

N-am fost suparat niciodată pe mere
că sunt mere, pe frunze că sunt frunze,
pe umbră că e umbră, pe păsări că sunt păsări.
Dar merele, frunzele, umbrele, păsările
s-au suparat deodată pe mine.
Iată-mă dus la tribunalul frunzelor,
la tribunalul umbrelor, merelor, păsărilor,
tribunale rotunde, tribunale aeriene,
tribunale subțiri, răcoroase.
Iată-mă condamnat pentru neștiință,
pentru plictiseală, pentru neliniște,
pentru nemișcare.
Sentințe scrise în limba sîmburilor.
Acte de acuzare parafate
cu măruntaie de pasăre,
răcoroase penitențe gri, hotarîte mie.
Stau în picioare, cu capul descoperit,
încerc sa descifrez ceea ce mi se cuvine
pentru ignoranță…
și nu pot, nu pot să descifrez
nimic,
și-această stare de spirit, ea însăși,
se supără pe mine
și mă condamnă, indescifrabil,
la o perpetuă așteptare,
la o încordare a înțelesurilor în ele însele
pîna iau forma merelor, frunzelor,
umbrelor,
păsarilor.

Nichita Stănescu
(A Cincea Elegie în Ordinea cuvintelor, vol. I, ed. Cartea Românească, 1960, la pp. 185-6)

O lege cu totul aparte și ciudată dintre cele date de el este aceea în care poruncește să fie încărcat cu necinste cel care, în timpul răscoalei, n-a fost în nici una din taberele de luptă. După cât se pare, Solon voiește ca cetățeanul să nu rămână netulburat și nepăsător față de obște, îngrijindu-se numai de siguranța propriei lui case și fălindu-se că el nu suferă și nu-i lovit de răul patriei, ci ca din propriul său imbold, fiecare să se alăture celor care duc o politică mai bună și mai dreaptă și să înfrunte primejdiile cu ei și să le vină în ajutor, în loc să aștepte să vadă cine pune mâna pe putere.

Plutarh
(Solon în Vieți paralele (trad. N. I. Barbu), vol. I, București, 1960, la p. 218)

Much of the debate about the proportionality test revolves around the question of whether proportionality is a rational form of adjudication or, on the contrary, is an arbitrary one.
Bernhard Schlink argues that ‘the balancing of rights, interests and values […] is unavoidably subjective„. Jurgen Habermas claims that because „there are no rational standards for bringing values associated with constitutional rights into a ‘transitive ordering with other values from case to case […] weighing takes place either arbitrarily or unreflectively‘. Proportionality would fail to provide judges with a method that can be rationally applied for arriving at a decision in human rights cases.
(…)
But this debate misses a more fundamental question – one that is already suggested in my treatment of the incommensurability objection, but it is worth now spelling out. Is it reasonable to apply the proportionality test to human rights cases?

Francisco J. Urbina
(A Critique of Proportionality and Balancing, Cambridge University Press, 2017, la pp. 75-76)

In the Constitution of Norway the courts are established as a separate branch of government, thus ensuring their independence from the other branches.
For the prosecuting authority, which is not mentioned specifically in the Constitution, the situation is more complex.
If the traditional tripartite division of state powers is used as the point of departure, the prosecuting authority in Norway falls, as previously mentioned, under the executive branch. Yet, the prosecuting authority differs substantially from government bodies such as ministries and directorates, which are subject to direct political control by the responsible minister.
If the only task of the prosecuting authority were to make decisions that could be reviewed by the courts (indictment, fines, waivers of prosecution), one might suppose that there would be no need for further control of its activities, and that the Director of Public Prosecutions could be given a completely independent position subject only to judicial review.
But the sphere of responsibility for the prosecuting authority is much broader than making individual decisions regarding prosecutions. A totally independent position is difficult to maintain given that the prosecuting authority is to continue its important role as a general supervisor of the investigation and prosecutorial tasks of the police.
(…)
The supervision and control of the police carried out by the Director of Public Prosecutions and the regional prosecutors has changed significantly in the past few decades.
(…)
The Higher Prosecution Authorities obviously only act as professional leaders within their areas of responsibility, i.e. police investigation and criminal proceedings. The others tasks of the police, for example public order services and preventive operations, fall under the National Police Directorate and the Ministry of Justice. The Director is also responsible for providing professional leadership with regard to the activities of the regional prosecutors.
Following the increase in the professional leadership it becomes clearer that the activities of the prosecuting authority are vital in carrying out the crime policy decided by the Storting and the government in practice. Consequently, the prosecuting authority cannot be independent of the political authorities when conducting its professional leadership. On the contrary, in this function the prosecuting authority should be seen as implementing the criminal policy adopted by the Storting and the government. (…)
(…)

Knut H. Kallerud
(„Not […] the Independence of a Judge”: Reflections on the Position of the Norwegian Prosecuting Authority as Compared to That of the Courts, and Remarks on International Standards for the Activities of Prosecuting Authority
în The Independence of Judges (coord. N. A. Engstad, A. L. Froseth, B. Tonder), Eleven international publishing, 2014, la pp. 219-220 și 224)

12.– È persino intuitivo (anche alla luce della sorpresa manifestata dalla comunità dei giuristi nel vasto dibattito dottrinale seguito alla sentenza Taricco, pur nelle sfumature delle diverse posizioni) che la persona, prendendo contezza dell’art. 325 TFUE, non potesse (e neppure possa oggi in base a quel solo testo) immaginare che da esso sarebbe stata estrapolata la regola che impone di disapplicare un particolare aspetto del regime legale della prescrizione, in presenza di condizioni del tutto peculiari. Se è vero che anche «la più certa delle leggi ha bisogno di “letture” ed interpretazioni sistematiche» (sentenza n. 364 del 1988), resta fermo che esse non possono surrogarsi integralmente alla praevia lex scripta, con cui si intende garantire alle persone «la sicurezza giuridica delle consentite, libere scelte d’azione» (sentenza n. 364 del 1988).
Ciò è come dire che una scelta relativa alla punibilità deve essere autonomamente ricavabile dal testo legislativo al quale i consociati hanno accesso, diversamente da quanto accade con la “regola Taricco”. Fermo restando che compete alla sola Corte di giustizia interpretare con uniformità il diritto dell’Unione, e specificare se esso abbia effetto diretto, è anche indiscutibile che, come ha riconosciuto la sentenza M.A. S., un esito interpretativo non conforme al principio di determinatezza in campo penale non possa avere cittadinanza nel nostro ordinamento. (s.n. – M.M.-B.)

Curtea Constituțională a Italiei
(Sentenza N. 115/2018 din data de 31 mai 2018)

Within the fairytale-line universe of Harry Potter legal themes deserve particular attention, in primis judicial power. The study of trials provides the occasion to assess the values related to the themes of justice, equity, integrity, and democracy.
By re-reading the saga from this perspective, it is possible to realize how the presence of the two worlds, the fantastic and the real, underscores the extent to which the one exists in function of the other. Thus, even the law in force in the magic world is contrasted with Law in all its facets, thus leading the reader to perceive its presence, and particularly its absence within the wizarding world. The importance of Law in the story seems to run parallel to the importance of the role of reality; it is precisely when Rowlings calls attention to the absence of law, when law is described as unjust, corrupted, and anti-democratic, that values such as justice, integrity, and democracy become the true protagonists of this saga. In Harry Potter, trials are metaphors for all the values upheld in all seven books: the right to freedom, dignity, and justice.
The judicial system of the wizarding world present many features related to that ancient and legendary world in which Law and its institutions were still in their infancy. Indeed, Anglo-Saxon England laid the foundations for what may be considered „the glory of English Law”. If we analyze the trial procedures in the magic world, we realize the importance that the author has given to this institution. First of all, like all names within the saga, the name itself of the wizards’ court has not been left to chance: notice the similarity between the terms Wizengamot and Witenagemot. The latter recalls the name of the ancient Germanic assemblies that are the corner stones of the English judiciary system. The institution of formal trials will come with the Norman conquest; still, their roots go back to the Anglo-Saxon epoch.
(…)
As in the Anglo-Saxon system the social position of the witness in the wizarding world, the number of people who testify are decisive: in the case of Sirius Black, he is sentenced to life imprisonment in the Azkaban prison, although innocent, because a large number of people testified against him, and because the assembly did not do a through investigation. It will be only after his death and in view of the most basic evidence provided by the facts that the Ministry will recognize his innocence

„Black? Black?” said Fudge distractedly, turning his bower rapidly in his fingers. „Sirius Black, you mean? Merlin’s beard, no. Turns out we were – er – mistaken about Black. He was innocent after all. And he wasn’t in league with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named either. I mean”, he added defensively, […] „all the evidence pointed – we had more than fifty eyewitnesses„. (Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, 8)

(…)

Daniela Carpi
(Harry Potter: The Fairy Tale and the Law în Fairy Tales in the Postmodern World: No Tales for Children, 2016, la p. 140 și p. 145)

Political correct is an American expression at first applied to a political movement which called for advocating greater social justice, including a more respectful use of language, for hitherto neglected ethnic and gender minorities.
The expression „politically correct” designates a perception and a social attitude characterized by a profound concern towards certain categories of people; a less open attitude or behaviour appreas therefore as politically incorrect. Anyone whish to strive for political correctness will have to appeal, both formally and substantially, absolutely free from any kind of prejudice toward racial, ethnic, and religious groups, gender, age, sexual orientation, physically or psychologically impaired individuals.
(…)
The end of the 1980s was decisive for the fortune of this expression, when the term ‘politically correct’ swept ‘the most prestigious North American universities, thus taking on, from the very beginning, the mantle of an elitist phenomenon. At the core of its origin there was the idea of the university as the locus for the advancement of social justice.
(…)
In fact, it was at the end of the 1980s that certain universities began to issue precise speech codes that, with the intent to discipline verbal behaviour among the departments of a given campus, imposed administrative sanctions on all those who might use racist, sexist or homophobic language.The first speech code was officially put into place at the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor in 1988. By 1993 most American colleges and universities had established speech and behavioral codes issued by their respective administrations.
(…)
The ‘politically correct’ story continues in 1993 with the publication of the book Words that Wound. Critical Race Theory., Assaultive Speech and the First Amendment, a collection of articles written by four law professors from four famous American Universities. Their papers called into question excessively aggressive language, the racist language that harms through words.
The claim of purification of language has always existed. For example, as far back as Plutarch’s Life of Solon, the writer attributed to the Athenian legislator the brilliant idea of smoothing down the unpleasant substance of certain issues by designating them with pleasanter and softer epithets: thus φίλος ‘friends, companions’, becomes an excellent substitute for πόρνη „prostitute”.  (s.n. – M.M.-B.)

Daniela Carpi
(Politically and Legally Correct Fairy Tales în Fairy Tales in the Postmodern World: No Tales for Children, 2016, la pp. 57-8)

(…)
Where national systems provide for judicial oversight of surveillance this may take place before the surveillance is carried out (ex ante) and/or after the fact (ex post). Judicial oversight during ongoing surveillance is a feature of some systems (as in the case of investigating magistrates in France) but it is less common except in relation to the continuation of existing approvals.

Ex ante control generally takes the form of judicial authorization – that is, prior approval of applications for surveillance by police or intelligence services. These authorization systems vary in their scope, from individualized warrants targeting named suspects to approval of general procedures within which authorities enjoy great discretion as to the individuals and facilities to be targeted. Ex ante judicial control will be most effective at safeguarding rights it if involves the application of clear and well-defined rules. Where open-ended laws are involved there is a risk – highlighted by the FISC – that a secret body of case law may develop outside the adversarial process and without scrutiny by appellate courts or the wider legal community.

Ex post judicial oversight also varies greatly between national systems. A common form is judicial examination of complaints that an individual has been wrongfully subjected to surveillance, whether through the ordinary courts or a specialist tribunal. While this is an important remedy, it has the disadvantage of being reactive in nature and dependent on the individual being aware of the surveillance and being able to access evidence proving abuse. For that reason it will work best in those systems which provide for individuals to be notified after surveillance has ceased.

Another type of ex post oversight is the scrutiny of surveillance evidence in criminal prosecutions. Particularly in jurisdictions where there are strict rules of admissibility, the disclosure of surveillance evidence to the defence provides an opportunity to examine the circumstances of the surveillance and to challenge the evidence if it was obtained improperly. In Uzun v Germany the ECtHR identified this as an oversight mechanism in its own right, accepting the state argument that „the possibility to exclude evidence obtained from an illegal GPS surveillance constituted an important safeguard”.

This is, however, a relatively weak form of oversight. It is ad hoc in that it depends on the accident of whether a prosecution is brought in a particular case and does not necessarily provide any insight into wider practices. It can be avoided by laws which limit surveillance material to intelligence rather than evidential use. It can also be evaded simply by deceiving the court about the origins of the evidence, and in 2013 a Reuters report revealed the existence of a practice known as „parallel construction” whereby the US Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) systematically fabricated the basis on which investigations were carried out in order to conceal from defence lawyers the fact that they had involved warantless surveillance by the National Securty Agency (NSA). Also, it is of less relevance for surveillance carried out by the security services, where it is unlikely that any particular case will end up in court (cu trimitere la European Commission for Democracy through Law, ‘Report on the Democratic Oversight of the Security Services”, 46).
(…)

TJ McIntyre
(Judicial oversight of surveillance: the case of Ireland in comparative perspective in Judges as Guardians of Constitutionalism and Human Rights (cood. M. Scheinin, H. Krunke, M. Aksenova), ed. Elgar, la pp. 140-2)

Secret state surveillance has long been regarded as a grave threat to constitutionalism, putting at risk not only individual rights but also the wider democratic process.
(…)
At both national and international levels, human rights law has responded by demanding effective oversight of surveillance by independent institutions – but there is an ongoing debate as to what role the judiciary should play. In Klass v Germany the ECtHR expressed a strong preference for judicial control at the point where surveillance is first ordered and while it is being carried out (…). Despite this, the Court did not require prior judicial control or even overall judicial supervision, holding that other systems could be permissible where the supervisory bodies were ‘independent of the authorities carrying out the surveillance’, ‘objective’ and ‘vested with sufficient powers and competence to exercise an effective and continuous control’.
This compromise position has been challenged as surveillance faces greater scrutiny worldwide, and there are strong arguments that a judicial dimension to oversight is not essential. For example, in a significant June 2014 report on the right to privacy in the digital age the Office of the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) concluded that ‘the involvement of all branches of government in the oversight of surveillance programmes, as well as of an independent civilian oversight agency, is essential to ensure the effective protection of the law‘. That report warned, however, that judicial involvement should not be viewed as a panacea and noted that in a number of countries ‘judicial warranting or review of the digital surveillance activities of intelligence and/or law enforcement agencies have amounted effectively to an exercise in rubber-stamping‘. (s.n. – M.M.-B.)

TJ McIntyre
(Judicial oversight of surveillance: the case of Ireland in comparative perspective în Judges as Guardians of Constitutionalism and Human Rights (coord. M. Scheinin, H. Krunke, M. Aksenova), ed. Elgar, la pp. 136-7)