The arrest of lawyer Beatrice Mtetwa - a new low for lawyers in Zimbabwe

We should remember the price lawyers sometimes pay for the courageous defence of their clients.

As President Robert Mugabe signed Zimbabwe’s new constitution into law last week, the case of lawyer Beatrice Mtetwa should have reminded us of the dangers of political interference in the justice system, as well as the price lawyers sometimes pay for the courageous defence of their clients.

Beatrice, a prominent human rights lawyer and past president of the Zimbabwean Law Society, will stand trial today for “obstructing or defeating the course of justice”. She was arrested in Harare on 17 March after she asked to see the search warrant of police officers who were conducting what she called an “unlawful, unconstitutional, illegal and undemocratic” search of the home of her client, Thabani Mpofu, an aide to Prime Minister Morgan Tsvangirai.

When Beatrice arrived at her client’s home, police were already conducting the search. She was handcuffed and taken to Harare Central police station. Despite a High Court order for her release, she was held in custody for eight nights and was allegedly ill-treated and denied access to her family. The High Court finally released her on bail of £330 after magistrates had initially refused to let her go.

This is just one of a series of incidents Amnesty International has observed in recent months amounting to what the organisation calls a crackdown on human rights defenders. The signing of the new constitution paves the way for presidential elections later this year and there are concerns that this crackdown could be the beginning of a return to the violence and bloodshed that left 200 people dead, 10,000 injured and nearly 30,000 displaced around the last elections in 2008.

When Beatrice was arrested, Amnesty called for her immediate release, as did the Law Society of England and Wales. The Law Society pointed out that the arrest breached United Nations basic principles on the role of lawyers. These require governments to ensure that they can perform their professional functions without intimidation, hindrance, harassment or improper interference. The UN principles call on national authorities to safeguard lawyers whose security is threatened through performing their role, and to ensure that they are not identified with their clients or their clients’ causes as a result.

Law Society chief executive Desmond Hudson said of Beatrice’s case: “This blatant lack of respect for the role of lawyers in the structure of democratic society demonstrates how the rule of law is yet to be fully established in Zimbabwe. [The] arrest marks a new low in relations between the Zimbabwe State and the legal profession.”

The ordeal of Beatrice Mtetwa brings home to us in the UK how lucky we are. Our courtroom battles for justice and human rights for our clients don’t normally bring down reprisals on our heads. That said, the notorious exceptions of lawyers Rosemary Nelson and Patrick Finucane, both assassinated in Northern Ireland as a direct result of their performance of their legal functions amid allegations - confirmed in Finucane’s case - of collusion by the state authorities, warn us how fragile and contingent is the rule of law and the structure of democratic society.

There is evidence that the campaign of the anti-human rights lobby in the UK, which involves tabloid “naming and shaming” of immigration judges who allow deportation appeals by long-resident foreigners on human rights grounds, has dramatically reduced the number of successful appeals.

This lobby also ran a successful campaign to prevent prominent human rights lawyer Ben Emmerson QC becoming a judge at the European Court of Human Rights because he had represented Abu Qatada. And legal aid cuts, new obstacles to judicial review and proposals to award bulk criminal legal aid cases to cut-price contractors, all threaten the rule of law.

We in the UK need to appreciate, protect and defend our independent human rights lawyers and judges and the fabric of justice, even as we express our solidarity and support for beleaguered colleagues such as Beatrice Mtweta.

Frances Webber is a human rights lawyer, author of Borderline justice: the fight for refugee and migrant rights (Pluto, 2012), an honorary vice-president of the Haldane Society and vice-chair of the Institute of Race Relations

Beatrice Mtetwa outside the High Court in Harare in April 2008. Photograph: Getty Images
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Why is it called Storm Doris? The psychological impact of naming a storm

“Homes being destroyed and lives being lost shouldn’t be named after any person.”

“Oh, piss off Doris,” cried the nation in unison this morning. No, it wasn't that everyone's local cantankerous old lady had thwacked our ankles with her stick. This is a different, more aggressive Doris. Less Werther’s, more extreme weathers. Less bridge club, more bridge collapse.

This is Storm Doris.

A storm that has brought snow, rain, and furious winds up to 94mph to parts of the UK. There are severe weather warnings of wind, snow and ice across the entire country.

But the real question here is: why is it called that? And what impact does the new Met Office policy of naming storms have on us?

Why do we name storms?

Storm Doris is the latest protagonist in the Met Office’s decision to name storms, a pilot scheme introduced in winter 2015/16 now in its second year.

The scheme was introduced to draw attention to severe weather conditions in Britain, and raise awareness of how to prepare for them.

How do we name storms?

The Name our Storms initiative invites the public to suggest names for storms. You can do this by tweeting the @metoffice using the #nameourstorms hashtag and your suggestion, through its Facebook page, or by emailing them.

These names are collated along with suggestions from Met Éireann and compiled into a list. These are whittled down into 21 names, according to which were most suggested – in alphabetical order and alternating between male and female names. This is done according to the US National Hurricane Naming convention, which excludes the letters Q, U, X, Y and Z because there are thought to be too few common names beginning with these letters.

They have to be human names, which is why suggestions in this list revealed by Wired – including Apocalypse, Gnasher, Megatron, In A Teacup (or Ena Tee Cup) – were rejected. The Met Office received 10,000 submissions for the 2016/17 season. According to a spokesperson, a lot of people submit their own names.

Only storms that could have a “medium” or “high” wind impact in the UK and Ireland are named. If there are more than 21 storms in a year, then the naming system starts from Alpha and goes through the Greek alphabet.

The names for this year are: Angus (19-20 Nov ’16), Barbara (23-24 Dec 2016), Conor (25-26 Dec 2016), Doris (now), Ewan, Fleur, Gabriel, Holly, Ivor, Jacqui, Kamil, Louise, Malcolm, Natalie, Oisín, Penelope, Robert, Susan, Thomas, Valerie and Wilbert.

Why does this violent storm have the name of an elderly lady?

Doris is an incongruous name for this storm, so why was it chosen? A Met Office spokesperson says they were just at that stage in their list of names, and there’s no link between the nature of the storm and its name.

But do people send cosy names for violent weather conditions on purpose? “There’s all sorts in there,” a spokesperson tells me. “People don’t try and use cosy names as such.”

What psychological impact does naming storms have on us?

We know that giving names to objects and animals immediately gives us a human connection with them. That’s why we name things we feel close to: a pet owner names their cat, a sailor names their boat, a bore names their car. We even name our virtual assistants –from Microsoft’s Clippy to Amazon’s Alexa.

This gives us a connection beyond practicality with the thing we’ve named.

Remember the response of Walter Palmer, the guy who killed Cecil the Lion? “If I had known this lion had a name and was important to the country or a study, obviously I wouldn’t have taken it,” he said. “Nobody in our hunting party knew before or after the name of this lion.”

So how does giving a storm a name change our attitude towards it?

Evidence suggests that we take it more seriously – or at least pay closer attention. A YouGov survey following the first seven named storms in the Met Office’s scheme shows that 55 per cent of the people polled took measures to prepare for wild weather after hearing that the oncoming storm had been named.

“There was an immediate acceptance of the storm names through all media,” said Gerald Fleming, Head of Forecasting at Met Éireann, the Irish metereological service. “The severe weather messages were more clearly communicated.”

But personalising a storm can backfire. A controversial US study in 2014 by PNAC (Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences) claimed that hurricanes with female names lead to higher death tolls – the more “feminine” the name, like Belle or Cindy, the higher the death toll. This is not because female names are attached to more severe storms; it is reportedly because people take fewer steps to prepare for storms with names they perceive to be unintimidating or weak.

“In judging the intensity of a storm, people appear to be applying their beliefs about how men and women behave,” Sharon Shavitt, a co-author of the study, told the FT at the time. “This makes a female-named hurricane . . . seem gentler and less violent.”

Names have social connotations, and affect our subconscious. Naming a storm can raise awareness of it, but it can also affect our behaviour towards it.

What’s it like sharing a name with a deadly storm?

We should also spare a thought for the impact sharing a name with a notorious weather event can have on a person. Katrina Nicholson, a nurse who lives in Glasgow, says it was “horrible” when the 2005 hurricane – one of the fifth deadliest ever in the US – was given her name.

“It was horrible having something so destructive associated with my name. Homes being destroyed and lives being lost shouldn’t be named after any person,” she tells me over email. “I actually remember at the time meeting an American tourist on a boat trip in Skye and when he heard my name he immediately linked it to the storm – although he quickly felt guilty and then said it was a lovely name! I think to this day there will be many Americans who hate my name because of it.”

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.