THE KNEELING ORDER: JUDICIAL POWER MISUSED

PAT ONUKWULI argues that there is no statutory basis for compelling a lawyer to kneel in court

There are defining moments in the evolution of any legal system when an isolated incident transcends its immediate context and becomes emblematic of a deeper institutional question. The reported directive by Justice Mohammed Umar of the Federal High Court, Abuja, allegedly ordering a legal practitioner to kneel during court proceedings, presents one such moment. It is an episode that demands not only scrutiny but principled condemnation, for it touches the foundational values of constitutional governance, professional dignity, and judicial restraint.

It is beyond dispute that judges are vested with considerable authority to regulate proceedings before them. The courtroom is, and must remain, a forum of order, discipline, and respect. However, judicial authority is not unbounded; it is circumscribed by law, guided by precedent, and restrained by the very Constitution that confers it.

Section 36(1) of the Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria 1999 (as amended) guarantees every person the right to a fair hearing before a court constituted in a manner that ensures its independence and impartiality. Impartiality, in this context, extends beyond adjudication into conduct. A court that resorts to measures of humiliation risks undermining the very fairness it is constitutionally mandated to uphold.

More directly, Section 34(1)(a) of the Constitution affirms that “every individual is entitled to respect for the dignity of his person,” and prohibits any form of inhuman or degrading treatment. If accurately reported, compelling a legal practitioner, an officer of the court, to kneel as a punitive measure would be difficult to reconcile with this constitutional guarantee. It would neither be recognised by law nor defensible as a legitimate exercise of judicial power.

The suggestion that such a directive could fall within the ambit of contempt jurisdiction is, at best, doubtful. The law on contempt is well settled: it is governed by defined procedures that safeguard fairness, including notice of the alleged misconduct and an opportunity to be heard. Sanctions for contempt are structured and recognised, fines, committal, or other lawful orders, not improvised acts of public degradation. There appears to be no statutory or jurisprudential basis for compelling a lawyer to kneel in court.

The Rules of Professional Conduct for Legal Practitioners (2007) indeed impose on counsel a duty of respect and decorum. Yet these obligations operate within a reciprocal framework of dignity. Professional respect cannot be equated with enforced subservience. The relationship between the Bench and the Bar is one of mutual obligation under the law, not hierarchical submission outside it.

The Nigerian Bar Association (NBA) has already expressed concern over the reported incident, affirming that no judge possesses the authority to order a lawyer to kneel in court. This position is not merely declaratory; it reflects the settled understanding of the limits of judicial power within a constitutional democracy.

At the heart of this issue lies a critical distinction: that between authority and excess. Judicial authority is legitimate precisely because it is exercised within legal bounds. Once those bounds are exceeded, authority gives way to arbitrariness. The danger is not confined to a single incident; it lies in the precedent, formal or informal, that such conduct may establish if left unaddressed.

It is trite that a judge must never descend into the arena of counsel. The reported order compelling a lawyer to kneel illustrates the danger this principle guards against precisely. A judge is a referee, not a ruler; once the Bench becomes personally entangled in the contest, the equilibrium of justice is compromised and authority risks degenerating into excess.

The enduring image of Themis, the blindfolded goddess of justice, reinforces this restraint. Her blindness signifies that justice must remain indifferent to personalities, status, or provocation, seeing only the law. A judge must therefore remain unmoved by who stands before the court, whether counsel, plaintiff, or defendant, prominent or obscure, and resist the impulse to convert momentary irritation into coercive command.

Equally concerning is the subtle conflation of respect with submission. A legal practitioner is duty-bound to address the court with courtesy, to comply with procedural directives, and to maintain decorum. However, respect in law is institutional, not personal; it is owed to the office, not demanded as an act of physical abasement. To require kneeling is to import into the courtroom a symbolism alien to the traditions of the common law and inconsistent with constitutional norms.

This is precisely why institutional response is imperative. The NBA must not allow this matter to dissipate into mere commentary. It is responsible for defending the integrity of the legal profession and ensuring that its members are not subjected to unlawful or degrading treatment in the course of their duties.

Similarly, the National Judicial Council (NJC) must exercise its disciplinary mandate with clarity and resolve. Judicial independence is not a shield for impropriety; accountability is its necessary complement. Where conduct falls short of established standards, appropriate measures must be taken, not merely as a sanction, but as a reaffirmation of the principles that sustain public confidence in the judiciary.

Ultimately, the legitimacy of the judiciary rests not on the coercive power it wields, but on the moral authority it commands. That authority is diminished when judicial conduct departs from the discipline of the law it is meant to uphold. This incident, therefore, should neither be trivialised nor rationalised. It calls for scrutiny and, where established, an appropriate response.

For if the courtroom, long regarded as the last refuge of order and reason, permits even a momentary descent into arbitrary command, then the question is no longer about one judge or one lawyer. It becomes a question about the system itself. And a legal system that tolerates the bending of its officers today may, in time, find that it has lost the ability to stand upright at all.

Dr. Onukwuli is a legal scholar and public affairs analyst. patonukwuli2003@yahoo.co.uk