The Pasqualino Cefai verdict and everyman’s reaction to it was interesting on a number of levels. I rather suspect its implications and the lesson it ought to have imparted were completely lost – both on the public but perhaps even on the judiciary who were handed one of life’s rare seminal (judicial) moments – the perfect opportunity to make Joe Citizen listen up and understand.

That the courtroom is a rather complex and convoluted place, not some judicial Trip Advisor. Nor is it an extension of the population’s living room.

That denigrating court judgments or otherwise discussing, dissecting and deciding other people’s fates from the comfort of your sofa, without so much as setting foot inside a courtroom or familiarising yourself with the court acts, is a dangerous sport.

Cefai was standing trial for stabbing another man 14 times, in facie curiae. No problem with eye witnesses there.

The crime was committed in broad daylight, in full view of a bustling courtroom – the presiding magistrate, lawyers, police inspectors and of course the victim – quasi praesente cadavere.

You could hardly argue with the evidence. Even Cefai wasn’t about to. He walked straight into the police station and turned himself in. Cefai was a dead man walking facing a maximum 30+ years imprisonment. Yet, in a rather unusual and surprising comeback, when the verdict was returned, he was not found guilty of attempted murder but of grievous bodily harm.

The anger and incredulity that ensued on the online portals and social network sites was palpable.

All the usual suspects – who ordinarily and routinely slag off every single court judgment which does not fit into their pre-ordained pre-trial version of what constitutes fair – were baying for blood.

There was absolutely no doubt in their minds that this was yet another judicial aberration and terrible disgrace which made a mockery of the justice system.

Where the buck normally stops with the courts, this time it was the jurors who were on the receiving end of all the grief.

The jurors were labelled brainless, unintelligent and a variety of other disparagements by the online intelligentsia who habitually run down the courts and who obviously think they know better.

This would have been the perfect moment for the court to turn around and deliver a few home truths.

First off, I like to think that jurors deserve the protection of the courts at all times. They are not there to be liked or to appease the masses and their verdicts ought to be respected either way, regardless. Perhaps more so when the verdict does not find favour with popular opinion. God forbid we reach a stage where jurors feel compelled to decide on the basis of pre-trial publicity or out of fear of some post-trial backlash, in lieu of their conscience.

You see, contrary to what the hoi polloi might have thought about those ‘brainless jurors’, I happen to think their verdict displayed an unusual legal discernment which left me reeling. Like most of the chastisers who displayed a very rudimentary understanding of criminal law and the criminal process, I never imagined that nine ordinary citizens with no legal background would be capable of zooming in on the legal subtleties that a verdict like that required. At some level, I expected the quality of the verdict handed down by these jurors to be confused with the quantity and number of stabbings inflicted.

“How can you stab someone 14 times and not want to kill him?”

That was precisely the sort of verdict I predicted – one where you didn’t even need to leave your home and where having a trial was wholly unnecessary because obviously 14 stab wounds constitute undeniable, indisputable proof of attempted murder. Certainly when you’re an armchair critic.

Never mind what the doctors said – that 13 of those 14 were non-invasive slash wounds. Never mind the nuances of criminal law – animus necandi versus animus nocendi; that under Maltese law the consequence of one’s acts is not even a decisive factor in determining whether or not the accused had the requisite intention to kill. In short, if someone were to die following stab wounds inflicted by X, X may still be found guilty of grievous bodily harm followed by death.

The verdict demonstrated a number of things, not least the very fine line between attempted murder and grievous bodily harm

I underestimated the jurors. I also forgot just how sober, powerful and consuming a criminal trial is. It’s a world unto itself – an all enveloping and all absorbing experience; where most of everything else ceases to matter and exist, apart from the immediate players, the evidence presented and the arguments put forward – which ought to be the jurors’ only considerations. The analogy might appear incongruous, but a criminal trial is not unlike Disneyland. When it’s all over you pinch yourself and wonder whether it was all a dream.

The verdict demonstrated a number of things, not least the very fine line between attempted murder and grievous bodily harm which is not something you can ever hope to decide upon, from the safe distance of your glass house. It also showed that jurors would rather err on the side of caution and will opt for the less onerous charges, whenever they have reasonable doubts. Which is exactly how it should be.

In many ways a trial is an open contest between the prosecution and the defence. What that verdict effectively showed was that the essence and spirit of a case isn’t ever faithfully or successfully transmitted through the media.

That reading about a case in the newspapers is very different to sitting through and listening to the evidence in court. That sometimes you just have to be there – to breathe, see, feel and touch the case first hand. And this applies not just to juries but to every single case you read about.

The verdict crystallised the essence of the criminal process while debunking much of the misguided and misplaced criticism ordinarily levelled at our courts by Joe Citizen. It ultimately confirmed that what happens inside a courtroom is sometimes best understood inside a courtroom.

michelaspiteri@gmail.com