Justice at the Altar of Political Convenience: The Corrosion of Zambia’s Judiciary
The justice system in Zambia, once revered as a sanctuary for fairness and the last refuge for the aggrieved, has now become the battleground for political score-settling.
The sanctity of our judiciary has been compromised, with courtrooms reduced to arenas for political theater, where cadres and police clash like opposing armies, further deepening the rot. What was meant to be the hallowed ground for justice has now morphed into a pawn in the power games of our politicians.
The judiciary, meant to serve as an impartial arbiter of disputes, is now entangled in a web of political manipulation. Recent years have witnessed an alarming trend where politicians use the courts not for justice but for advancing their own interests.
The halls of justice have become mere stepping stones for individuals seeking political validation, with high-profile cases turning into campaign rallies. Instead of quiet deliberations on justice, our courts now echo with the chants of party cadres.
This deterioration has long been in motion, starting with how judges are appointed in Zambia. Every legal practitioner covets a seat on the bench, but the journey to that seat is paved with compromise.
Politicians, ever the opportunists, have learned to exploit this desire for judicial appointments to their benefit. Prospective judges are often canvassed long before they take the oath of office.
Their loyalty is tested, not to the law but to those who hold political power. And those who prove their willingness to serve political interests – even at the expense of their professional integrity – are the ones handed the coveted appointments.
What results is a judiciary that is politically compromised, where justice is no longer blind but swayed by the winds of political favor. We’ve seen it all too often: Attorney Generals hounded out, judges suspended or dismissed, suits and counter-suits among the judiciary itself.
The message is clear—when it comes to politics, loyalty trumps competence. The judiciary, far from being a check on executive overreach, has become another tool in the political toolkit of those in power.
Consider the tenure of President Michael Sata, who did not shy away from purging judges he found unfavorable. He went so far as to import a friend from Malawi to chair a disciplinary committee—an open testament to how far political influence had permeated the judiciary.
His successor, despite being a lawyer, followed the same playbook, hounding out judges who didn’t toe the line. And then came President Edgar Lungu, who continued this troubling trend, installing his loyalists in key judicial positions.
The courts have become an extension of the executive branch, with judges more beholden to the powers that appointed them than to the people they are meant to serve.
This is the quid pro quo that has corroded our judicial system. Politicians hand-pick judges, and in return, these judges repay the favor by dismissing cases, finding technical loopholes, or outright nullifying evidence when those politicians are called to account.
The “justice” dispensed in these courts is far from impartial—it’s a currency traded between the powerful and their enablers.
This capture of the judiciary by political elites would be damning enough on its own, but the increasing militarization of court proceedings adds an additional layer of disgrace.
Court premises, once sanctified as places of law and order, have devolved into war zones where cadres clash with police. What should be peaceful grounds for justice have become battlegrounds of chaos, intimidation, and violence.
Courts are supposed to be public places where justice is not only done but seen to be done. When cases of national importance are heard, they should serve as a learning experience for law students, scholars, and the general public.
But in today’s Zambia, attending a landmark case risks becoming an exercise in fear and intimidation. Police sirens and party slogans fill the air, drowning out the solemnity of judicial proceedings.
The real culprit behind this degeneration is the erosion of the doctrine of separation of powers. The executive, through its overbearing influence on judicial appointments, has essentially crippled the independence of the judiciary.
Until we implement an independent judicial appointments commission, this situation will only worsen. Parliament must also have a stronger role in vetting appointments, with the President relegated to signing appointment letters after proper scrutiny. This is not a mere administrative reform—it is the key to restoring faith in our justice system.
The legislature needs to rise to the occasion. Instead of rubber-stamping presidential nominees, parliamentarians must take their role seriously, subjecting these appointments to genuine interrogation.
The time for political convenience dictating the fate of justice is over. The Zambian people deserve a judiciary that serves the interests of justice—not the interests of the ruling elite.
If we are to redeem our nation, the judiciary must be disentangled from the clutches of political influence. It’s time to restore the courts as sacred grounds where justice is dispensed impartially, without fear, favor, or intimidation.
Zambia must demand more from its leaders and its institutions. Only then can we hope to rescue the ideals of justice from the altar of political convenience.