Take your hands out of your pockets

Leverhulme in Dublin ... Amid the economic ruin and social dislocation, judges dispense "justice" in a pecularly Irish manner ... Judge's free-wheeling approach to contempt and libel ... Donegal men don't suffer fools, apparently  

DUBLIN is a strange place these days.

The bars and restaurants bounce and buzz at night with stout and song. It's great craic but away from Temple Bar the streets are faintly threatening.

In the morning they swirl with litter and empty cans.

As I dodged the odd regurgitated pizza, I saw a screaming woman chasing her boyfriend down the pavement.

Grubby, sad-eyed beggars from obscure continental countries crouch hopelessly in search of a spare euro or two.

But the locals retain a characteristic generosity and cheerfulness and every barman or taxi driver is a comedian. They've been through worse than this.

Thousands of new-build houses stand empty throughout the country and once thriving concerns, like firms of architects and lawyers, are sinking quickly into the mire.

Charles Ryder's father, played memorably by John Gielgud in Brideshead Revisited, observed: 

"Your cousin Melchior was imprudent with his investments and got into a very queer street."

I asked a well-known solicitor what had happened to all the money. His reply was stark:

"There never was any money."

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Judge MacBride: "I'm going to put manners on you"

THE judiciary, many of whose members are unsubtly political appointments, is still thriving and doing its best to smarten-up the landscape.

While the private sector aches and burns a government job looks the best option.

Some justices are making the headlines with surprising regularity.

You read about these characters in the press and quickly remind yourself that you don't know all the circumstances of the case or how many priors the punters have. But you get a flavour. 

Take District Court Judge Sean MacBride.

The beak who once described himself as the Dirty Harry of the Irish judicial system said: 

"If every judge adopted the same approach, there'd be less trouble on the streets."

So let us examine some examples of his Honour's approach.

He speaks his mind. He was in strife a few years ago for commenting that people from Tyrone were typically thick. 

His Honour also copped it for saying he would blow the head off intruders who came into his home.

In April this year, the judge refused to release a suspected caravan thief called John Gavin.

Gavin's solicitor, Joseph Coonan swore an affidavit in the High Court claiming Judge MacBride did not deal with the bail application in a fair manner.

What follows are allegations. You will see later why I use that term.

Coonan said he had addressed the court unaware that he had one hand in his pocket.

The judge was cross.

"How dare you speak to me like that; have you anything to say for yourself?" 

Coonan was baffled.

"How dare you speak to me with your hand in your pocket? I'll hold you in contempt of court."

A Garda inspector was then ordered to accompany the solicitor into the judge's chambers where Coonan apologised.

The judge took the apology gracefully. He said:

"I'm a Donegal man and we don't suffer fools. There was another practitioner in Donegal who spoke to me like that. And I put manners on him. I am going to put manners on you too."

The solicitor was then escorted back into court.

While the accused was being sworn-in the judge said he wanted an armed guard between him and the defendant at all times.

Gavin took the bible and held it with both hands to his forehead before taking the oath. It's some Irish thing, apparently.

The judge is then alleged to have said:

"Do not desecrate the bible like that. Take the oath correctly. You've no respect for religion or the court. I'll swallow you up and spit you out."

Mr Coonan said the judge was making his client uncomfortable by smiling at him.

Gavin asked the judge why he was doing so and the beak is said to have replied:

"I am staring at you just to sicken you and show you that I am mentally and psychologically superior to you."

In the High Court the State consented to Gavin's release on bail and Mr Justice Birmingham ordered an inquiry into the accused's detention.

And yes, Judge MacBride doesn't suffer fools.

In May this year he warned the Dublin media that he would "sue the pants" off them if they made any further snide remarks about him.

His presentation came during another bail application.

He said that when he was appointed he was the best qualified judge in the country and that the press was at the lowest level of the gutter when it started attacking the judiciary.

He added he had taken three successful libel actions last year and had given the money to charity.

The judge's comments drew a round of applause from the back of the court.

*   *   *

ANOTHER judge hitting the tissues has been District Judge John Coughlan, who was so busy gaoling people one day that the "orr torra tees" had to summon another prison van. 

He filled in at the Wexford District Court last November.

One solicitor told the court her client's brother had called to say the defendant had tried to kill himself the day before.

"It's an original excuse. I will say that," remarked the judge and issued a warrant.

Defendants who had failed to front previously were ordered to come up with €300 as bail. Those who couldn't afford it were led away in handcuffs.

One man exacerbated his crime of being an uninsured driver by having the temerity to wear a beanie in court.

He was gaoled for three months and disqualified from driving a motor vehicle for 40 years.

In April this year, Judge Coughlan fined 38 people for not paying their TV licences. In one day the State's coffers were swelled by €14,500 in fines and €2,500 in costs.

The judge related his penalties to social welfare saying a €500 fine equals two-and-a-half week's dole. 

*   *   *

BACK to Judge MacBride who heard a case in April against a shouting and abusive drunk called Patrick Greene. 

Justinian readers will no doubt appreciate the heartfelt plea from Winnie, the defendant's mother.

"I've buried half me family: two sons, a daughter, a husband, and a brother ... I'm not afraid of Patrick ... My son won't do me any harm ... I'm just gone eejity, so I am. I'm bawlin' the whole time, so I am. Spend most me nights cryin'. I don't want to lose another son." 

She did. Greene got nine months.

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THE speech of a best man is always a question of judgment.

At a wedding in Cheshire last week amid grannies and maiden aunts, we were told that the secret to a happy marriage could be summed up in three simple words: Delete Browsing History.