Memories of former chief justice Michael de la Bastide

Senator Hazel Thompson-Ahye

I was saddened to learn of the death of our former chief justice and first president of the Caribbean Court of Justice, Michael de la Bastide, who, having “(bestrode) the narrow (judicial) world as a colossus,” went “gentle into that good night” on March 30.

Former chief justice de la Bastide was a legal luminary, who was larger than life. Apart from his brilliant career, one thing I admired in him was his love for his older sister, my high school principal, Sister Bernadette, who had taken over the role of caring for him when their mother died. He shared with us some of her caring ways in the eulogy he delivered at her funeral.

He lived a full and enjoyable life, involving all aspects of our culture and, in his youth, like the vast majority of us, did not aspire to be a candidate for sainthood like his sister. Older judges and senior lawyers in the Caribbean mischievously shared widely a joke from his youthful days.

One morning, I attended the Court of Appeal Chamber Court, where the recently-appointed Chief Justice de la Bastide was presiding. A young lawyer asked for an adjournment.

Chief Justice de la Bastide took great exception to his request and admonished the attorney, saying, “This is not a court for adjournment. This is a now-for-now court. Are you ready to proceed?”

As I left the court, I thought the Chief Justice’s remarks would be a good topic for a calypso I could sing for the forthcoming first Lawyers Under Lights concert.

As I drove down St Vincent Street, I recalled snippets of his first address at the ceremonial opening of the legal year. He had made it quite clear that it was not going to be business as usual.

He was going to change the justice system in this country by creating some innovations to clear the backlog of cases and the way the practice of law was being conducted here. He planned, among other things, to shorten the long vacation, encourage written submissions, eliminate disparities in sentencing, and encourage alternative dispute resolution.

Lawyers were shaking in their boots and even some judges were perturbed. By the time I got to the lighthouse, I had composed the entire calypso in my head. I could not wait to put it down on paper.

When he learnt that I had written a calypso on him, the Chief Justice requested the lyrics. I knew it was a command and wondered if he wanted to censor my calypso. Shortly after I had composed the calypso, I called my mentor, friend and dean of the Faculty of Law, retired Justice Telford Georges in Barbados, and sang the calypso to him as I knew that he and the chief justice had a mutual admiration society.

Justice Georges had laughed heartily and given the calypso his stamp of approval. He said he did “not think Michael would have a problem with it.”

He then asked me, “But Hazel, who tell you, you could sing?”

The Chief Justice approved the calypso. In fact, his son, Simon, told me that he loved it.

When I hit the stage the night of the concert, dressed in my lawyer’s robes, a white mop on my head, carrying the scales of justice in my hand and unkindly, imitating the Chief Justice’s raspy voice, the audience went wild. I could see the Chief Justice getting ruddier and ruddier. The audience called for an encore.

When we later repeated the concert at Naparima Bowl, some judges of the Court of Appeal offered to pay me to sing another calypso on the Chief Justice.

The following year, he wrote in the promotional flyer for the next concert that my calypso had been the highlight of the first Lawyers Under Lights concert. One day we met on the steps of the Hyatt and he introduced me to his daughter, Juliet, as “his favourite calypsonian.”

When his biography was being written, Justice Kathy Ann Waterman-Latchoo contacted me for the lyrics, but I could not locate the calypso, so only the few lines that I could remember found their way into his biography. I located the calypso months after the book was published.

Some years later, we had a major difference of opinion over my organising the Hugh Wooding Law School graduates’ AGM and luncheon to coincide with the opening of the law term. He phoned me and I became quite upset at the tone of the conversation. I told Telford of my intention to write another calypso about the Chief Justice but he counselled me and I desisted.

I was given the singular honour of speaking at Justice Georges’ very private funeral service. At the end, Chief Justice de la Bastide was walking around the venue, shouting, “Where is Hazel? Where is Hazel?”

His eyesight was failing and he could not find me. Eventually, someone (it might have been Ian Benjamin, SC) brought him to me. Justice de la Bastide hugged and kissed me and said, “No one could have done a better job. Thank you, Hazel.”

Although the struggle for supremacy with the then attorney general was troubling, Chief Justice de la Bastide maintained his sense of humour. At a seminar on mediation at the Hilton, he told us that if he were to put his stamp of approval on mediation, it would be sure to fail. He expected the attorney general would go in the opposite direction.

In his honour, I am sharing publicly my calypso, Now for Now Court, which our former chief justice enjoyed so much. May he rest in peace and rise in glory.

Now-for-now Court

Is a new dispensation
For justice in this nation
Gurley submit he report
Still big backlog in all the court
So the new Chief say
No more adjournments from today
Ah starting court at nine
Be ready and be on time.

Chorus

This is a now-for-now court
Now-for-now court
My name is Mr Steed
I do everything with speed
Ah man rape today
There must be no delay
the evidence dry
This case must be try
Submit written argument
Cut out reading long judgment

Trial by ambush must be no more
Put your cards on table before
This backlog must disappear
Is new cases I want to hear.
Two weeks less vacation
Cause list now in confusion.

Chorus

This is a Now-for-now court
Now-for-now court
Yuh car stall coming from South
Lucky if yuh case eh throw out
Ah man rape today
There must be no delay
Before the evidence dry
This case must be try.

Ah plan judges’ seminar.
Sentences must be on par
Six years for raping lil miss?
Seven years for cutting off penis?
Twenty years for robbery with vee?
All ah dat eh pleasing to me
Ah pushing ah ADR head
Ah doh care who say ah dread.

Chorus

This is a now-for-now court
Now-for-now court
Lawyers in a mess
All ah dem suffering from stress
Ah man rape today
There must be no delay
Before the evidence dry
This case must be try.

Judge criticise lawyer in the court
She decide to make a report
Appeal Court shorten lawyer speech
Unfairness, he start to preach
Law Association
Check out the situation
Before ah take out mih gown
And be the new Jean-in-town.

Chorus

Now-for-now court
Now-for-now court
Solomon doh sit on your rear
Remember election near
Ah man rape today
There must be no delay
Before the evidence dry
This case must be try.

(Composed and sung by Hazel Thompson-Ahye, "The Privy Councillor,"
at the 1st Lawyers Under Lights Concert, 1995.)