By ‘courts’, people generally understand the material buildings that house the organisations where the business of justice is carried out, but also the systems set up to resolve controversies according to law.
This short feature will touch on both.
Since early modern times, the mother of all courthouses in Malta has been the Castellania, in Merchants Street, Valletta, where the ordinary civil and criminal courts had been since 1760. The Order of St John administered its own internal justice for knights at the Grand Master’s Palace or in St John’s Oratory of the Decollation.
Grand Master Pinto wanted baroque sculpture to embellish his Castellania. The Neapolitan scalpellino Giovanni Puglisi, responsible for those refined stone decorations, sadly ended up being the first person to be tried and condemned to death for homicide, in the courthouse he had just ornamented.
With the abolition of the death penalty in 2000, the courts stopped being the centre of morbid frisson they had traditionally been for ages.
Today’s high-profile political cases are only a pale substitute for the ominous popular curiosity capital trials previously provoked.
Images, both graphic and photos, of courts in session or of interior spaces, prove to be extremely scarce, partly because of the judiciary’s traditional reticence to be photographed.
A rather strange reticence, considering that the maximum publicity of court proceedings is mandated as a fundamental human right, both the interest of the parties and of a fair administration of justice.
In Malta, the ‘judiciary’ comprises all the professional judges and magistrates. But the usefulness of that levelling collective noun ends there.
Every judge and magistrate is firstly a human being, brilliant or stupid, fearless or craven, with ingrained integrity or a stalwart soldier of steel, hardly ever stainless.
Most images are from the author’s collections.