Peter Robinson - The Tribunal

The prosecution team was at its table on one side of the courtroom: Charles Oswald and Bradford Stone.

Kevin frowned at the sight of his nemesis, Stone.

When he moved toward the defense table, Kevin was surprised to see defense counsel Vladimir Krasnic, who had made such a point to embarrass him during the cross examination of Nihudian, seated in one of the chairs.

“Ah, it’s the one-Euro lawyer,” Krasnic said.

Kevin tried to smile.

“Well,” Krasnic said, straightening the front of his robes, “I don’t believe your services will be required in this case, even at your discounted rates.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mr. Zaric will be requesting that I be his assigned counsel.”

Kevin could not believe what he felt. He knew that Draga had the right to choose his assigned counsel from anyone on the Tribunal’s list. And a big part of him wanted off the case, today, now. And yet – he was disappointed . Was it the excitement of finally standing in the Tribunal’s courtroom wearing a black robe, only to be shown the door? Did he wish for an opportunity to lance Stone where it would hurt the most: in his puffy British ego?

When Kevin heard a door open behind him, he turned and saw Draga enter, surrounded by light blue uniformed guards. As soon as Draga appeared, the smooth, silver-haired Krasnic was on his feet, making his way to talk with him. The two men greeted each other warmly.

Kevin sat down. He could see it would be over quickly.

Diane would be pleased, and Ellen would be disappointed.

“All rise! Veuillez vous lever! ” the usher bellowed, as an elderly judge entered the room. It was William Davidson of Great Britain. He was reputed to be the most cantankerous of the Tribunal’s judges.

“Call the case,” he ordered.

The clerk announced, “Prosecutor against Dragoljub Zaric, case number IT-96-30. Counsel, announce your appearances please.”

Kevin rose with the other lawyers.

“Charles Oswald and Bradford Stone for the Office of the Prosecutor,” Oswald said in a firm voice.

“Vladimir Krasnic for Dragoljub Zaric, Your Honor.”

It was Kevin’s turn. “Good morning, Your Honor,” he said, edging over to the podium where Krasnic was standing. “I am Kevin Anderson. I was asked by the Registrar to be temporary counsel for the accused.” He then sat down.

Judge Davidson said nothing for a moment. Then he addressed Vladimir Krasnic. “Mr. Krasnic, has the accused retained you to be his counsel?”

“No, Your Honor. He is requesting that I be his assigned counsel.”

“Very well.” Turning to Draga, Judge Davidson asked, “Mr. Zaric, do you request that the court assign Mr. Krasnic to represent you?”

Draga was looking down. He did not look up or say anything.

“Mr. Zaric, can you hear me?” the judge asked, tapping on his microphone.

Draga stood up slowly and looked directly at Judge Davidson. He spoke in a loud, defiant tone. “This court has no jurisdiction over me. You have kidnapped me from my sovereign country. I am a political prisoner. I refuse to participate in your show trial.”

Draga sat down.

Judge Davidson’s face reddened. “Mr. Zaric, do you request that Mr. Krasnic represent you or not?”

Draga again was silent. He looked at the judge defiantly, crossed his arms, and said nothing.

“Mr. Zaric, I ask you for the third and final time. Is it your request that Mr. Krasnic represent you?”

After a second or two of silence, Vladimir Krasnic rose. “May I have a moment with my client?”

“Yes. I believe that would be advisable.” Judge Davidson’s tone signaled a warning.

Krasnic walked over and whispered to Draga. The two men spoke out of earshot, then Krasnic returned to the podium. “Your Honor, I believe that Mr. Zaric feels that by requesting counsel, he is somehow consenting to the legitimacy of these proceedings. He does not wish to do that. Perhaps the Court will accept my representation, as an officer of the Court, that Mr. Zaric desires the Court to assign me as his counsel.”

Judge Davidson shook his head. “No, Mr. Krasnic. This man isn’t going to get any special treatment. The temporary counsel assigned by the Registrar will represent Mr. Zaric until he makes a request for a specific lawyer.”

Judge Davidson looked at Kevin. “What did you say your name was, counsel?”

“Kevin Anderson, Your Honor.”

“Mr. Anderson, are you ready to proceed with the arraignment?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” The words came out weakly. Kevin’s heart was racing at this turn of events.

“Will the accused please rise?”

Kevin turned and looked at Draga. He was still seated, staring coldly at the judge.

“Will the accused please rise,” Judge Davidson repeated more forcefully.

Draga made no effort to move.

“I order the guards to bring Mr. Zaric to his feet.”

The two guards flanking Draga attempted to pick him up out of the chair. They struggled to do so as Draga went limp. Soon, two more guards rushed over. The four of them lifted Draga out of his chair and propped him up in a standing position.

Kevin caught Draga’s eye as the struggle ended. Draga glared at him.

“Mr. Zaric, have you received a copy of the indictment?”

No response.

The judge looked at Kevin. “Counsel, have you provided a copy of the indictment to the accused?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

The judge looked back at Draga. “What is your true name, sir?”

Kevin was on his feet. “Your Honor, I respectfully direct my client not to answer that question.”

“I beg your pardon,” Judge Davidson said, surprised.

“The burden is on the prosecution to establish that the person in this courtroom is the same person accused in the indictment. I request an identity hearing be held for that purpose.”

Kevin had seen good defense lawyers do this in federal court.

Judge Davidson looked annoyed. “Counsel, I understand that you are new here. It is standard procedure in this Court for the accused to state his true name for the record at the initial appearance.”

Looking at Draga, Judge Davidson continued, “What is your true name, sir?”

Kevin hesitated for an instant, and then was on his feet. He was determined to protect his client’s rights. “With all due respect, Your Honor, my client should not be compelled to give evidence against himself. It is the prosecution’s burden to prove that he is the person accused in the indictment. I request that the Court require them to do so at a hearing.”

Judge Davidson was exasperated. “Sit down, counsel.” He turned to the prosecution table. “What is the prosecutor’s position on this?”

Bradford Stone rose and smiled at the judge. “Clearly Mr. Anderson is inexperienced with our procedures. Why, Mr. Krasnic has already told the court that the person here is Mr. Zaric.”

“Perhaps the prosecutor wishes to call Mr. Krasnic as a witness,” Kevin retorted, “at a hearing which is required for that purpose.”

Kevin saw Krasnic glare at him.

Judge Davidson ignored Kevin. He looked at Draga. “Mr. Zaric, if you do not now declare your true name, I shall hold you in contempt.”

Draga said nothing.

Kevin rose again. “Your Honor, my client cannot be held in contempt. He is simply following the advice of counsel in this matter.”

“Then I will hold you in contempt,” the judge growled.

“Your Honor,” Kevin pleaded, “will you at least ask the prosecution what law they rely on for the proposition that an accused may be compelled to state his true name when the issue of identity is contested?”

Judge Davidson turned to the prosecution. “What does the case law hold on this point, Mr. Stone?”