Sunday 19th of September 2021

the fluidity of disinterested "justice" in the magna carta country...

justice ersatz...
A court artist’s sketch of Julian Assange facing the district judge Vanessa Baraitser at Westminster magistrates court

The Australian's next hearing had been due on May 18, but District Judge Vanessa Baraitser last week agreed to delay it over concerns that Assange and lawyers would not be able to attend in person.

Judge Baraitser said as both legal parties were struggling to work out a new date in July, she would move the case to another Crown Court with better availability in September.

Vanessa Baraitser serves as a District Judge at Westminster Magistrates' Court where, on 21 October 2019, she refused to extend Julian Assange's UK extradition proceedings, telling Assange his full extradition case would begin on 24 February 2020.[1]

Having summarily dismissed Julian Assange's bail application, Baraitser ruled on 7 April 2020 that the names of Assange’s partner and young children could be published in the interests of “open justice”.[2] 

Juan Passarelli tweeted:

"The fluidity in which Judge #VanessaBaraitser delivered her ruling concerning the identity of #Assange's partner and children is almost as she had already had given it thought and written her ruling yesterday in her north London mansion, with a glass of white wine. Just saying!"[3]

"The worst moment was one of a number of 'worst' moments. I have sat in many courtrooms and seen judges abuse their positions. This judge, Vanessa Baraitser - actually she isn't a judge at all; she's a magistrate - shocked all of us who were there.

"Her face was a progression of sneers and imperious indifference; she addressed Julian with an arrogance that reminded me of a magistrate presiding over apartheid South Africa's Race Classification Board. When Julian struggled to speak, he couldn't get words out, even stumbling over his name and date of birth.

"When he spoke truth and when his barrister spoke, Baraitser contrived boredom; when the prosecuting barrister spoke, she was attentive. She had nothing to do; it was demonstrably preordained. In the table in front of us were a handful of American officials, whose directions to the prosecutor were carried by his junior; back and forth this young woman went, delivering instructions.

"The judge watched this outrage without a comment. It reminded me of a newsreel of a show trial in Stalin's Moscow; the difference was that Soviet show trials were broadcast. Here, the state broadcaster, the BBC, blacked it out, as did the other mainstream channels.

"Having ignored Julian's barrister's factual description of how the CIA had run a Spanish security firm that spied on him in the Ecuadorean embassy, she didn't yawn, but her disinterest was as expressive. She then denied Julian's lawyers any more time to prepare their case - even though their client was prevented in prison from receiving legal documents and other tools with which to defend himself.

"Her knee in the groin was to announce that the next court hearing would be at remote Woolwich, which adjoins Belmarsh Prison and has few seats for the public. This will ensure isolation and be as close to a secret trial as it's possible to get. Did this happen in the home of the Magna Carta? Yes, but who knew?
"Julian's case is often compared with Dreyfus; but historically it's far more important. No one doubts - not his enemies on The New York Times, not the Murdoch press in Australia - that if he is extradited to the United States and the inevitable supermax, journalism will be incarcerated, too.

Read more:


Eventually, Vanessa Baraitser, the English "Judge" of Julian Assange, meets her maker — like all of us do at the end of our life… But before entering the Almighty’s Kingdom, St Peter stands at the Pearly gates… This short conversation followed:

— And what did you do with your life, Madam?

— I was the judge who sent Julian Assange to face Justice in America !

— You did what? 

— Justice had to be served. Actually, I was not a full-time judge. I was honoured to be chosen by my peers of small district magistrates because I lived closest to the great prison where he was serving extra time beyond his original sentence for having being a little shit to our great friends, the Americans… 

— So you thought the law should protect Princes and forget the truth?

— The truth? 

— Yes, the TRUTH !

— What’s that? Wasn’t Assange a danger to America for revealing secrets? Did he not have to pay for this?

— But was he telling the TRUTH?

— Who cares ! He was breaking "some" laws… and I made him suffer a little bit more for this…

— You, sadistic woman !

— I was doing the right thing as instructed by the Americans. Cheers… (She still holds her glass of white vino from the opening of an envelope at a local art gallery...)

— JUSTICE is not one of the Americans main point… Their courts are corrupt… There are very few Americans in here… They all are in hell, apart from this guy called Mark Twain… He makes the angels laugh. 

— So, you don’t want me ?

— Well, though you don’t seem to be a bad sort… and you have a good smile, nonetheless a tiny bit sarcastic… So, to tell the TRUTH, my mate Satan needs you more than us… He’s been searching for a small district magistrate to keep a few people wrongly convicted of sins, locked up in his domain for eternity… You will be perfect, as you know…

(Upon this, St Peters opens the Pearly Gates and as Vanessa Baraitser is about to enter, a trap door opens  between the big doors and she FREE falls head first down to Hell… )

— ?

— Welcome to my underworld, where justice is upside down…

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