Taking Ownership of Human Rights

Towards a maturing Dutch Caribbean.
 

Presentation by the Hon. Mr Justice Jacob Wit

Judge of the Caribbean Court of Justice

At the occasion of the launch of the Dutch Caribbean Human Rights Committee

University of the Netherlands Antilles | Curaçao, October 18, 2007

Distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen,

We are living in interesting times. Under our very eyes the constitutional structures of our islands are being changed. Only a few of us, however, are involved in that process. Most of us are looking on from the sideline and are wondering what will come of this.

I will argue that if there ever was a time for the citizens of these isles to get involved in the political processes of our societies that time is now. I am of course not talking about party politics, although that is also necessary, but about politics in a much broader sense. Democratic governance is no longer limited (if it ever was) to the right to vote as it now has been widely accepted that it also embraces both the rule of law and the right to participation in the political process including, besides the right to vote, also the rights of assembly, association and expression. The latter includes of course the right to have free, independent and pluralistic media.

It is in this context that the launch of the Dutch Caribbean Human Rights Committee (DCHRC) fits in nicely. Indeed, here we are, assembled, celebrating the birth of a new association in the presence of the press that, although not without faults, is still free, independent and pluralistic. 

My point of departure is that for many years now the Dutch Caribbean peoples have been living in a stage of constitutional and societal adolescence; that, from a constitutional point of view, for far too long, we have been lingering in a protracted age of puberty. The time has come, it seems to me, to grow up and mature. But we have to act and speak now, or, as they say, for ever hold our tongue. 

Our local politics have generally not been of a level that could be appraised as satisfactory. As a whole, the quality of politics has deteriorated substantially. Apart from incidental cases of rampant corruption, our political directorate has been behaving as the proverbial student, living in lodgings paid for by his parents, regularly and irregularly asking them for some more money during the course of the month and taking his dirty laundry home every weekend  for his mother to clean them; the same student who, when his mother cautiously seeks to convince him to act more responsibly and behave properly, will defiantly tell her that she should not meddle in his private affairs as he is now an adult who knows how to take care of himself and who knows his rights. Of course, Mother also has her own agenda (as people usually have).

However, it would not be totally fair to put all the blame on the politicians. After all, we are the ones who elected them and we are the ones who gave them a free hand. And it is certainly true that in our small scale island societies, politicians are regularly being pressured by individuals, groups or even society as a whole to provide for certain things even while we all know very well that there is no money to do so.

One of the idiosyncrasies of our postcolonial arrangements with the Mother country is that we are living in our own constitutional fairy tale portraying ourselves as full members of one (almost) imaginary Kingdom, consisting of three separate but equal countries all sublimated into a constitutional Trinity the mysterious structure of which is enshrined in a document of quasi-sacred character: the Charter of the Kingdom. This “one but three, three but one” construction, once, aptly I think, described by me as “a paradigm of Dutch pragmatism, neither troubled by constitutional logic nor constitutional principles” has caused much havoc in our relations with The Netherlands as it has blurred our (and their) vision on the realities of our constitutional situation.

There seems to exist a tendency among the politicians on both sides of the Atlantic, only when it suits their purposes of course, to invoke the magic words “We are all Dutch!” and “We all belong to the same Kingdom!” This has brought Dutch politicians to criticize, e.g., the poor state of our prisons and the appalling poverty that exists in some parts of our islands. By using the incantation “How is this possible in our own Kingdom?” they justify their stance to chastise our politicians for not keeping our prisons up to standards and for not alleviating the fate of our poor. The same rhetorical device, however, has sometimes been used by our own politicians in seeking to obtain for their people the extravaganza of certain benefits which do exist in The Netherlands (like relatively copious social security allowances).

In both cases the answer has predictably been: yes we are one, but this particular matter falls squarely and clearly outside the competence of the Kingdom and should therefore be deemed an internal affair which has to be dealt with by the respective countries themselves. In other words “Mind your own business!” Add to that the fact that our beloved Kingdom has no Parliament, no juridical personality (meaning that it cannot be sued), and no money, and you might understand why I just spoke of an “almost imaginary Kingdom.”

I should also point out that the very word “Dutch” has a double meaning which renders sometimes true and sometimes not the submission that we are all Dutch. On the one hand, being Dutch means that one is a Dutch citizen or has the Dutch nationality (which is certainly true). But it might also mean that one belongs to the Dutch people in a social, cultural and often ethnic sense (which is not true)[1]. That is why we still distinguish “Yu’i Korsou” and “Macamba” although rare cases of transformation from one into the other have been reported. As a rule, the European Dutch are always Dutch and the Caribbean Dutch are only Dutch in one sense, an incongruity that lays at the root of problems that have either manifested themselves already or are still looming in the dark. At any rate, this form of “double Dutch” has been a source of many false and consequently unfulfilled expectations.

All of these factors and many more, have contributed to the mess that our public finances and the general state of our Dutch Caribbean countries are currently in. And in the midst of the turmoil caused by debts of breathtaking magnitude and clear examples of political mismanagement, we find ourselves now in the process of restructuring our constitutional positions as Curaçao and St Maarten are seeking to obtain “country status” comparable to that of Aruba, and the other three islands are aiming to be fully “integrated” in The Netherlands, a position that seems untenable to me as is already becoming clear from what we have seen thus far. As I see it, the creation of these so-called BES islands only adds another layer of obscurity to the already impenetrable and multi-interpretable structure and content of our Kingdom Charter, a characteristic which I suppose it shares with other “sacred” texts.

What does all this has to do with human rights, you will ask. Well, everything, I would say, as I am now about to explain.

The restructuring of the Netherlands Antilles is all about the furthering of a fundamental right its inhabitants have: the right to self-determination, which is the very first right mentioned in the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), a Human Rights Treaty to which we are a Party.

As it was felt by a vast majority of our peoples that the old structure of the Netherlands Antilles is no longer helpful to our advancement as a people but, indeed, more of an impediment to our future development, and as this was finally recognized by the Mother country at yonder side of the Atlantic, we have embarked on a series of negotiations and meetings of all sorts to achieve these goals.

Initially, the demands from this side of the Kingdom were of a level that did not reflect much understanding of the nature of this process. Especially Curaçao was clear and simple in its wishes: they wanted nothing less, and maybe a little bit more, than the separate status Aruba already has. St Maarten, having much more to gain in comparison with Curaçao, which after all already has the seat of the central government, was a little less robust and one could say more cautious in its demands. Nevertheless, the discussion took place on a level of “we want our own this, and we want our own that.” As such, there is nothing wrong with this. In a sense it flows from the concept of equal treatment and it also appeals to something that is deeply felt by all and sundry. In the words of John Stuart Mill:

“If a person possesses any tolerable amount of common sense and experience, his own mode of laying out his existence is the best, not because it is the best in itself, but because it is his own mode.”[2]

That is true of course, but it is not the whole truth. Things are usually more complicated than that. There is now I think a growing tendency in international law to circumscribe the right to self-determination in the sense that an intended disintegration of a country should not lead to instability or to a substantial lower level of well-being or a loss or deterioration of governmental quality in terms of essential elements like the rule of law, democracy, good governance and human rights.[3] In that light it is understandable that the Dutch government has offered substantial financial relief to the islands in order to bring the total debt in the public sector down to a level where it can be managed. In fact, it would have been irresponsible of them to agree with the process of dismantlement of the Netherlands Antilles if they had not offered this relief without which the new entities would not be viable or would at least not be able to maintain a sufficient level of wellbeing and democratic governance for their peoples. Although it is theoretically possible to make a distinction between the constitutional restructuring of the Antilles and the financial restructuring of its public sector(s), realistically and from the view of international law it would seem to me that these processes are inextricably linked.

Now, Holland would not be Holland if it would have simply given us the money to pay off the debts without any further conditions. Nobody would expect that and from the view that countries, like people, have to mature (which usually means learning it the hard way) this would have been a very unwise thing to do. So, there is really no objection against imposing conditions as such and neither can one object to the fact that a lot of bickering is going on now with respect to the question of what these conditions should entail and to exactly what extent. That is simply all in the game.

That the Dutch government is seeking to institutionalize some form of supervision on our politicians as to their way of managing our public finances in order to avoid a reoccurrence of the financial mess we have seen emerge, seems to be in keeping with the overriding responsibility which they, wearing the mantle of the Kingdom of the Netherlands, still have. I do not have a problem with that. Where they seem to go wrong, however, is the way in which they apparently seek to establish that supervision as they seem bent to take that responsibility permanently out of our hands.

Understandably, the approach from our side has been to resist them as much as possible in an effort to give away as little “autonomy” as possible. But whose autonomy are we talking about? It is as though the autonomy that is being pursued is nothing else than the privilege of our politicians to do what they want and this is of course very problematic.

In my view, both approaches are to be deplored. Going back to the basics[4] we have to be mindful that this whole enterprise of constitutional restructuring should be aimed at furthering the right to self-determination of us, the Dutch Caribbean peoples. At the same time we should be mindful of the fact that this is not a right per se but one that implies a duty for us to foster in a meaningful way the high ideals of democratic governance. [5]

If we only focus on the external outline of our new constitutional arrangements, let’s say a separate status similar to that of Aruba, we would have achieved very little because internally, and thus basically, everything would stay the same. In order to mature in the big bad world of today one needs to take responsibility for those things that matter. One cannot claim the right to stand on ones own two feet whilst staying in bed. One has to get up and stand. The right to carry responsibility for ones own affairs, therefore, implies that one starts carrying that responsibility. Even if it were true that “Mother knows best” we cannot accept that “Mommy” will take care of us to eternity. And so, any arrangement that sees to it that Mother will for ever be in charge of our affairs will reduce us to eternal adolescents, pitiful creatures indeed. This would be a violation of our right to human dignity which is I think the most fundamental right there is.

What are we to do to avoid this impending violation? My answer is that we have to start behaving as adults. We have to take our fate in our own hands even though, for the time being at least, we will stay within the confines of our almost imaginary Kingdom which, by the way, is still real enough to produce both limitations and benefits for us.

Experience has taught us that the ideals of democratic and proper governance are still very far away from our daily realities. This is so because we never considered these ideals to be really ours. In our sometimes petty way of looking at things we thought of them as “belonging to another world.” And in a way we still do. Very often one hears politicians and citizens alike complaining about these inconvenient “human rights” that only seem to favour criminals. And in times of emerging crime waves even politicians who should know better are eager to promote the idea of declaring some state of emergency in which we could then easily limit or do away with “this foolishness of human rights.”

Nevertheless, we all understand that we cannot escape the consequences of these fundamental rights as they are laid down in the many treaties to which we are a Party and we are probably aware that many of these rights, as a consequence of our “monist” approach of international law, have a direct effect on our local legal system even to such extent that they can be used to set aside the application of our domestic laws. Be that as it may, these human rights, although more and more applied, still seem very often “foreign” to us. Contributing to that feeling perhaps is the fact that the signing of these treaties have mostly been initiated by the Mother country and that they, after reluctantly being approved by us, are usually being applied by the judges most of whom are of European stock.

It would seem to me that what we have to do is to rethink our constitutional position ourselves. We’ll have to find our own mode of laying out our existence. And so, we have to refocus on our own Constitution (Staatsregeling). This should be our own sacred text in which we lay down what we stand for and what we think our country should strive for. This should be our founding document in which we enshrine the cohesive principles of democracy, good governance and the rule of law ensuring a government of laws, not of men.  This should be the basic text by which we seek to define, in the words of Dr R. Martha, the “strategic goals”[6] of our little island nations and by which we internalize those human rights that we hold dear and consider fundamental for our identity and our development, thus taking ownership of those very rights.

It is true that we have a draft constitution for Curaçao. But I am afraid that that document is as unsatisfactory as it is uninspiring. In fact, one could argue that it is worthless, although I would not want to go as far as that. Basically, it is not much more than a redraft of the existing constitution of the Netherlands Antilles. Now, it is true that in this draft one can find a number of fundamental rights, but the problem is that these are mere clones from those mentioned in the Dutch constitution a document that has made itself virtually irrelevant[7] due to the fact that it prohibits the judiciary to review the constitutionality of Acts of Parliament which means that the Dutch constitution cannot fully be enforced. Following the example of the Aruba Constitution the Curaçao draft does make it possible for the courts to review legislation against the background of the 17 classical fundamental rights mentioned in the draft but, as I will shortly set out, this is far from satisfactory.[8]

Let me first say this. The Dutch constitutional model is not suited for the Dutch Caribbean. It may be a good model for Holland (although even there that is being disputed), but it is not good for our small scale societies. The Dutch parliamentary system has been effective in Holland because, at least in the past, the Dutch parliamentarians had enough integrity and knowledge to carry that system. Experience has taught us however that this is not the case with us. The Dutch position that we as citizens of the Dutch Caribbean have to be protected against the possible excesses of our very own politicians is correct.

The solution to that problem, however, is not to give the Dutch politicians and bureaucrats the power to supervise our politicians and bureaucrats. The solution lies with us. We the citizens of these islands must have more tools to keep our politicians in check. And these tools should be provided by our Constitution. The solution is to adopt a constitution that is truly the supreme law of the land and to charge our judiciary with the duty to uphold that Constitution entirely (not just a part of it) so as to offer us the full protection of the law.

This is not to give more power to the judges or to establish judicial supremacy but simply to give power to the people themselves. After all, even under a constitution that is supreme and wholly reviewable the initiative to take steps against the government of the day lies not in the hands of the judges but in those of the citizens themselves. Giving ourselves these powerful means to reign in our politicians will ensure as much as possible the full enforcement of our constitution and will keep our politicians focused on the fact that they are serving us and not themselves. That being said, we will have to start looking at the content of our constitution in a very different way.

I will give you a few examples of what I am talking about. Our draft constitution provides for a General Chamber of Audit and an Ombudsman, both institutions designed to monitor and possibly correct the executive government. However, these provisions are virtually meaningless without an additional provision demanding an efficient output from these institutions and ensuring that the government provides them with sufficient means, financial and otherwise, to discharge their duties in a proper and timely manner.[9] But even if such a provision is made, it would still be irrelevant if it could not be enforced if and when the government failed to comply.

Another example. At the presentation of the draft constitution it was proudly announced that section 81 of the draft requires the government to present to the parliament a yearly so-called balanced budget. According to paragraph 2 of that section the budget will have to be prepared in accordance with norms that will be established by law. If you think that such a provision would be able to stop the government from messing up our public finances ever again, you are wrong. In the first place, the fact that the budget will be prepared according to norms we do not yet know and which can be established with a simple majority in parliament does not sound very reassuring. Secondly, even if the government would bluntly present an unbalanced budget, probably claiming force majeur, this would have no effect whatsoever, because when constitutional review is not possible – as would be the case under the draft constitution – ordinances (statutes) that violate the constitution cannot be struck down. The budget of course is established by ordinance.[10]

A last example. Very often the constitution demands that certain important matters be laid down in formal legislation usually by or pursuant to an ordinance. However, if the constitution does not allow for full judicial review and if the government and the parliament have not complied with the constitutional requirement of making the law, nothing can be done. In that case the courts are powerless to enforce the constitution and to order the government to introduce a Bill in parliament.

A constitution such as proposed by the draft is nothing more than a harmless symbol, an ineffectual play thing for stir-eyed idealists, philosophers and smart politicians.

I would respectfully submit to you that we do not need that kind of constitution and we should not want it either. I would go even further. If this draft becomes our constitution, we will have failed miserably in developing our right to self-determination. I would even submit that in that case we would not deserve to call ourselves autonomous, whatever the arrangements with the mother country.[11]

If, however, we would embrace the constitution as our supreme law with full judicial review – as, by the way, St. Maarten has done – then we would be required to have a much closer look at our constitution before we adopt it. When we realize that anything we lay down in the constitution could some day be enforced by the judiciary, going even as far as striking down newly adopted legislation as unconstitutional or ordering the government to present legislation to the parliament, it will make us pause when we draft the constitutional duties of the governmental departments and the fundamental rights we want our citizens to have. Indeed, it is then that we cannot afford to sprinkle our constitution with fancy ideals and hollow phrases anymore.[12] We will have to be very precise.

Our new constitution should not only be a supreme document, it should also, as I said before, be a defining document. This means that we will have to make a decision as to which of the many human rights that exist in the world we want to enshrine in our constitution. Because by enshrining them we will take ownership of them.

In the first place we will have to look at the human rights that already have legal effect in our jurisdictions. But we should not necessarily stop there. For example, the African Charter of Human Rights and Peoples’ Rights mentions the right of all peoples to have “a general satisfactory environment favorable to their development.”(article 24). This is the only human rights treaty I know of, that does so. I would like to think that the environment is a very important issue for Caribbean islands, not only because their   livelihood is at stake (think of coral reefs, tourism and fisheries), but also because it involves very important health issues. The latter have become very obvious in Curaçao where serious cases of heavy pollution have been reported. So, this might or should be a human right that we would want to consider as a candidate for our constitution.

Surprisingly, some of the most fundamental human rights as laid down in the two important general human rights treaties, the International Covenant and the European Convention of Human Rights, both in force in our isles, are not mentioned in our draft constitution, probably because they are not mentioned in the Dutch constitution. I am referring, inter alia, to the right to life[13] and the right not to be subjected to torture, or to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment[14]. I do not have to remind you that these rights are not always being adhered to in the Dutch Caribbean.

Another right that at least should be considered as a candidate for our constitution is the prohibition of slavery and of slave-trade in all their forms[15]. Apart from the fact that this fundamental right has lately gotten new dimensions, a country that has gone through the evils of slavery and slave-trade would be wise to remind itself of these sad and wicked times in order to foster a general conviction that those days should never be forgotten and should never return. It is significant that most independent Caribbean States have enshrined these particular fundamental rights in their respective constitutions.

The fundamental right to education as expressed in the Dutch constitution has a very peculiar twist in that it fosters both public-authority schools and denominational schools. I do not mind that we copy this very peculiar arrangement as long as we realize that this provision results from fundamental, and typically Dutch, discussions that have still not ended[16]. As a general rule, however, I think we would be better off copying the structure of the human rights as worded in the Human Rights treaties, although we might consider sharpening them here and there.

I say this because by following the structure of the human rights as formulated in those treaties we will make it clear for ourselves that most of these rights are not without limitations. Lawyers and judges of course are, or should be, familiar with this phenomenon, but for the ordinary citizen this is not always the case. By transplanting the structure of those fundamental rights that we have decided to admit into the Hall of Fame of our constitution into its text we will bring home to all of us not only which of these rights may be limited but also how and under what conditions. At the same time it will be clear to all that there can be no derogation from some of these rights (like the right not to be subjected to torture or cruel or degrading treatment). That is also good to know.

Using this structure we will further make it clear that the rights as expressed in our constitution are inextricably linked to those in the treaties which will invite our judges to tap in into the jurisprudence of Human Rights courts while interpreting our domestic constitution. Although it is true that the courts are already using this jurisprudence and are in fact compelled to do so, there is still an important difference. By bringing the human rights down from the high heavens of international law to the earthly sphere of our own constitution we have in fact made these rights our very own while at the same time acknowledging that we are part of a bigger world, bigger even than this “huge” Kingdom of ours.

This approach will also bring home that limitations of these fundamental rights, if at all possible, can only be lawfully imposed if they are provided or prescribed by law and if they are necessary in a democratic society for one or more of the legitimate purposes defined in the provisions concerned. The Dutch constitution, and in its footsteps the draft constitution of Curaçao, usually only mentions the first condition but that is clearly not sufficient. Using European case law when interpreting the constitution will therefore refine and enhance our understanding of these fundamental rights. In accordance with that case law it is not enough if the statute simply allows certain infringements of the right concerned even if those infringements are proportionate and for legitimate purposes.

The requirement to provide or prescribe these limitations by law also relates, according to the European Court of Human Rights, to the quality of the law, requiring it to be compatible with the rule of law.” This means that when the law allows certain infringements of the fundamental right it should be so structured that it provides adequate legal safeguards against abuse and that, where the law confers a power of discretion to the authorities, the law should also “indicate the scope of that discretion.”[17] It is thus that the Courts if conferred with the power of full judicial review would be able to protect and uphold the rights of the citizens.

By transforming treaty rights into constitutional rights another valuable development may ensue. “Monist” thinkers that we are, we never realize that not only does international human rights law influence our domestic law but interpretation of domestic fundamental rights may also very well affect international case law. This is so because of what we call the margin of appreciation that is allowed to the individual states to conceptualize and implement these rights. The development of human rights law is in a sense a two-way street, at least more than we think.  

Bringing human rights home and taking ownership of them also entails that we confront ourselves with the question under which circumstances we might be relieved from the duty to observe and honor these rights. In the recent past it has regularly occurred that pressured by the populace and certain media politicians have sought to find excuses to suspend some of the fundamental rights by declaring a quasi state of emergency or purporting to pretend that such a state in fact existed. It has also been a popular theme during election time. Whenever crime is on the rise utterances like these are heard. Although these statements are reject able and irresponsible, it is easy for them to be made because our current constitution does not even mention the power to declare a state of emergency so that nobody really knows what the politician is talking about.

It is a positive development that the draft constitution seeks to fill that gap by introducing a section 91 in which some features of declaring a state of emergency are outlined. It is also positive that the draft makes clear that only a limited number of fundamental rights may be departed from: the freedom of the press, the right of association and assembly and also the inviolability of the home and the right to privacy of correspondence. The proposed section also makes mention of the requirement for an official proclamation of the state of emergency. It is, however, silent on such important principles as the principle of exceptional threat, strict necessity and international notification. In other words, declaring some state of emergency in case of rising crime is out of the question, at any rate if the government (even with the support of parliament) would want to succumb to pressures from groups advocating the suspension of some inconvenient rights.

It is especially in hard times and difficult situations that we can test how true we are to our fundamental values and principles. Compared with the situation in the state of Israel our own difficulties are really child’s play. Nevertheless, many times the Israeli Supreme Court stood its ground. Aharon Barak, the former President of that Court once discussed this in a judgment in which his Court held that violent interrogation of a suspected terrorist is not lawful, even if doing so may save human life by preventing impending terrorist acts ( a “ticking bomb” situation). He held:

“We are aware that this decision does not make it easier to deal with that reality. This is the fate of democracy, as not all means are acceptable to it, and not all methods employed by its enemies are open to it. Sometimes a democracy must fight with one hand tied behind its back. Nonetheless, it has the upper hand. Preserving the rule of law and the recognition of individual liberties constitute an important component of its understanding of security. At the end of the day, they strengthen its spirit and strength and allow it to overcome its difficulties.”[18]

And he divulged:

“Deciding these applications has been difficult for us. True, from the legal perspective, the road before us is smooth. We are, however, part of Israeli society. We know its problems and we live its history. We are not in an ivory tower. We live the life of this country. We are aware of the harsh reality of terrorism in which we are, at times, immersed. The fear that our ruling will prevent us from properly dealing with terrorists troubles us. But we are judges. We demand that others act according to the law. This is also the demand that we make of ourselves. When we sit at trial, we stand on trial.”[19]

The two major arguments brought forward against full judicial review in the Dutch Caribbean are that this would form a break with Dutch legal tradition and that most of our judges are “not from here” or, to put it more precise are “European whites” so that a shift of power towards the judges might be perceived as a reintroduction of some form of colonialism.[20] 

It would take me a lecture in itself to seriously deal with those arguments but I am already talking too long and as I must have mercy on your souls I will not seek to exhaust you. Let me just make two points. Tradition is never a real argument. If it was, the world would look very differently. Talking of breaking with tradition: all the independent countries in the Commonwealth Caribbean, all former colonies of Britain, got their independence upon condition that they would have a written constitution being the supreme law of the land and imbued with the principle of the separation of powers charging the judiciary with the duty to review the constitutionality of all laws and governmental acts. This “package” was demanded by England who herself did not even have a written constitution or judicial review of statutes (as is still the case).

As to the second point, I would like to say the following. It has to be accepted by all politicians, current and future, that they must be closely monitored in the way they ply their trade. This is not just a demand made by the Dutch government, it has also and more importantly so been demanded by the people. Even the report of drs. Caryl Monte who at the time was hailed as the saviour of the country by those that vehemently opposed the “final declaration” pertaining to the new constitutional structure of the Antilles suggested that the politicians should be put under strict supervision of new and old local institutions, virtually sidelining the parliament.

But even these institutions would need a final back up from the Courts and so the choice, to put it bluntly, is this: should our politicians be supervised by Dutch judges or Dutch politicians and bureaucrats. I would choose the judges as they are at least bound by our laws and for many more reasons. But that is perhaps for another time.

At the end of the day, however, this is not about judges. It is about us, the people. It is about our right to self-determination.

Let me end with the following citation:

“..because human rights enable and legitimize the free choice of , the individual, they strengthen the dominant structure of modern society, which is based upon free inclusion and individual mobility… As such, human rights constitute the unnoticed and elementary condition for participation within modern society. Human rights enable us, without paying further heed, to take part in the richness of social roles, networks, associations and organizations that make up modern societies.” (G. Verschraegen, ‘Human Rights and Modern Society: A Sociological Analysis from the Perspective of Systems Theory’ (2002)[21]

And so, members of the DCHRC, here it is. There is work to do, a lot of work in all fields. There will be fiery debates, there will be uneasy silence. There will be enthusiasm, there will be unwillingness. There will be victories, there will be defeats. There will be applause and there will be resistance. You are a group that might be destined to take the lead in discussing the difficult issues of human rights and by having them debated enlighten the people.

There is still a long way to go and it will take perseverance and courage to continue on the journey you have now embarked upon.

 I trust that you will keep the faith and that you will stand tall. I wish you well in your endeavours. I wish our countries well in our quest for maturity and justice.

I thank you.