13.7.07

Cultural Flashpoints North of the Scalp

Britain’s most senior judge, Lord Phillips of Worth Matravers, announced on Thursday that, starting Jan. 1, the wigs would no longer be worn in most trial courts; neither would gowns. Ending (at least for now) a long, hot debate over whether and how to modernize and simplify the elaborate standards of formal court dress, Lord Phillips, the Lord Chief Justice, decided to dispense with the wigs and with court robes entirely in all civil and family cases, and to simplify them in criminal court.

Also gone will be the especially elaborate full-bottomed wigs worn on ceremonial occasions; the smaller, cheaper and much less uncomfortable bob wigs that will still be worn in criminal trials will do. And a single, simple robe design will replace the five different sets of formal robes that judges had to maintain for different court sittings and times of year.

The white, curly horsehair wigs have been in use in court since the 1600’s, when they were fashionable in society as well, and they long ago became the visible emblem of the British legal system. The Times of London reports that they remain popular with the public, and especially with defendants, who are said to favor being represented by “a proper lawyer with a wig.” And some in the legal profession liked the link with history, as well as the measure of disguise they provided, making barristers and judges who are seen wigged in court harder to recognize unwigged on the street.

But many others despise wigs as hot, smelly, and more to the point, elitist - they make all too obvious the caste system in British law, dividing the more numerous solicitors, who do most of the day-to-day work of representing clients, from the more prestigious barristers, who for centuries had a monopoly on the right to speak (and to wear a wig) in court. These days the functional distinction between the two kinds of lawyer is eroding, and the solicitors, at least, want the sartorial distinction to vanish as well.

As for Lord Phillips, he apparently was simply annoyed with all the rigmarole, and wanted to save the government some of the considerable expense (upwards of $3,000 apiece for the full-bottomed wigs, for example) of fancy court dress.

Cost is not the issue in the Netherlands, but anonymity and separation from society very much are.

The country has already seen a government brought down by a proposal it made in 2006 to outlaw wearing of the burqa or naqib in public. Now, a conservative party in parliament is trying once again, introducing a bill that would impose penalties of up to 3,350 euros (almost $5,000) and up to 12 days in jail.

One rationale put forward is public safety, and the risk posed by having people regularly moving about in society with their identities completely hidden. (The Lede took note last week of some recent attempts to exploit the burqa for various ends.)

But it seems clear that ostentatious other-ness is the real complaint. The P.V.V., the party that proposed the law, acknowledged as much when it described the garments as “an expression of the rejection of fundamental Western values” and argued that the veils hinder the integration of Muslim immigrants into Dutch society.

A prominent spokesman for Dutch Muslims, Ayhan Tonca, told The Associated Press that Geert Wilders, the P.V.V. leader, was actually trying to do that himself: the proposal, he said, was “totally out of proportion” and was meant to widen the rift between Muslims and other Dutch people.

The P.V.V.’s proposal exempts some face-covering items worn for secular reasons, like full-visor motorcycle helmets. Many politicians of other parties who support the ban are telling the Dutch news media that it should apply to those as well, and that a narrow ban on religious face coverings has little chance of passage.