Should victims be more than mere witnesses at a trial?
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WHEN he took up the post of Adjunct Professor of Law at UCC, Paul Carney said that he would dedicate his tenure to the role of the victim in the Irish criminal process.
For the principal judge of the Central Criminal Court, and Irish society at large, it was a laudable objective given the widespread concern -- not entirely borne out in practice -- that the scales of justice have swung too far in favour of the accused instead of the victim.
For years, relatives of those murder victims and traumatised survivors of rape and violent crime have complained that they have "no voice" in legal proceedings.
They are right.
But in an adversarial criminal trial system that decides the guilt or innocence of an accused -- thereby requiring high evidential standards and strict rules of procedure -- victims and families are mere witnesses in the titanic battles between the State and those charged with breaking its laws.
Indeed, it is debatable, even with the best liaison, counselling and support, if families or victims obsessed by grief ever could, or should, be anything more than witnesses in such a trial system.
Despair
Voices must be heard, but justice is a delicate balance to strike and those afflicted with grief cannot allow their despair to subvert the trial process.
For decades, the Government and the legal profession ignored legitimate public anger about aspects of the operation of the criminal justice system and the role of victims within it.
They did so at their peril, because in recent years the public has rowed in behind many grieving families, including the parents of the late Brian Murphy, who bitterly complained that their teenage son who was kicked to death outside a Dublin nightclub was "lost" in the criminal trial process.
There was also unprecedented public support, tantamount to hysteria in some quarters, when Majella Holohan, the mother of Cork schoolboy Robert Holohan unleashed a torrent of evidence -- not heard at Wayne O'Donoghue's failed murder trial -- including the fact that semen was found on her son's body.
The Holohan affair, presided over by Judge Carney, exercised an excited public who increasingly confuse the notion of justice with that of vengeance.
It also exercised the judiciary, for entirely different reasons.
The Court of Criminal Appeal was appalled by Mrs Holohan's outburst and issued a warning at O'Donoghue's sentence appeal that relatives who departed from the script when reading victim impact statements could find themselves in jail for contempt of court.
Worse still, sentences for murder and other serious crimes will be reduced if victims or their family members launch unfounded or scurrilous accusations against an accused.
Last night, Judge Carney returned to the scene of the crime in a provocative address on the role of the victim of the Irish criminal process.
The outspoken judge had earlier circulated copies of his address to several media organisations, including the Irish Independent, in which he singled out "the iconic" Majella Holohan, "obsessed with grief" for her "scandalous" allegations and "calculated outburst".
He also accused over 50 journalists, who had "formed a coalition" with victims, of partying until 3am the night before the hearing and running a sweepstake on the likely prison term.
But faced with alarm at the perceived attack on the grieving mother -- coupled with an avalanche of queries to the Courts Service, which supports the judiciary -- Carney duly toned down his remarks.
In the midst of the spectacular U-turn, much of the constructive comments Judge Carney had to say about victims and sentencing will be lost.
His impulsive remarks will also do little to endear grieving families and a sceptical public towards judges who are already perceived as being out of touch.
