The Malaysian judiciary is not what it should be. Outside its doors are the detritus of judicial skeletons, which by the time it became public had become the norm. Political and other pressures dictated how a high profile case is decided.

This began with a vengeance after the then lord president of the Supreme Court, as the chief justice was then known, Salleh Abas, and two Supreme Court judges were denied justice in their own court and drummed out, more to warn the judges of the fate awaiting them if they did not oblige. Justice, in short, was available only to the highest or the most powerful bidder.

The chief justice ruled with an iron rod, and harassed or sidelined any judge who crossed him, or more importantly, his favourite lawyers. One judge was forced to write a "surat layang" (anonymous letter) to highlight the rot in the judiciary. He was forced to retire without a pension. He had a heart attack about that time, and he was given the option of death of his illness or resign immediately. He had no choice but to.

When the rot began

Abdul Hamid Omar, who succeeded Salleh, started the rot. His successor, Eusoff Chin, continued it. He scandalised an already scandal-proof court when photographs of him on holiday with his favourite lawyer, VK Lingam, in New Zealand appeared on the Internet.

He and his client, Vincent Tan (he of the Bukit Tinggi casino fame) were also photographed with the then attorney-general (later Federal Court judge and now comatose), Mohtar Abdullah, and their wives, on holiday in Italy.

Dzaiddin Abdullah, who succeeded him with a new broom and an unsullied reputation, could not, no matter how, turn the judiciary around. What destroyed a judicial tradition of two centuries cannot be reversed in decades, let alone in two or three years.

Somewhere in his term, he decided his was a Sisyphyan task, did not see it worthwhile to pursue it. But he jumped into a quagmire then, and he is as badly scarred as his former colleagues by this new judicial behaviour of cashing money at all cost. He joined a leading firm of advocates and solicitors, Skrine & Co. It raised eyebrows. The Bar Council asked questions, and Malaysian justice is reduced to what one retired judge described as "just ice".

When Dzaiddin threatened to sue the Star newspaper for imputing other than the purest motives for why he joined, he joined the pack. True, the judicial code of ethics did not prohibit it; other judges had joined legal firms on their retirement. The Bar Council protested. The government looked to see if the judicial code could be amended to prevent such in the future.

But is that the issue? Dzaiddin should have known - and he is of a disposition who would, once, agonise over it - it would have raised a flak. The Skrine explanation made it worse.

The question is if Dzaiddin, and other retired judges, should accept paid employment in law firms. Not if the law allows it. But if their conscience in the context of judicial behaviour allows it. Does judicial behaviour allow it? Would the standard of justice improve if they did? If yes, by all means, do so.

If it does not - as I view it - they should cease and desist. They should not justify it on the basis of the law. There is more to justice than the law that gives it form. It is not only Malaysian judges who have to face this conundrum. That too many judges are only too quick to accept paid employment as legal consultants or as partners in law firms in prominent firms suggests that the old judicial traditions are ignored

Miscarriages of justice

The judges, unfortunately, ignore the larger judicial tradition when they retire. They acquiesced, without a murmur, when the executive, deliberately and callously, destroyed judicial independence, especially when they closed an eye when judges and crony businessmen established close links.

This was followed by the several blatant miscarriages of justice. The most prominent, and the most damaging, was how the judiciary helped destroy a man the prime minister wanted destroyed. No judge dared stand up to challenge it. Two crony businessmen wanted to show they should not be challenged by anyone because of who they are, and initiated a series of legal actions to silence their critics. The judges complied, even sending a few lawyers to jail for contempt.

Judicial integrity is compromised when judges remain silent when injustice is rampant. Those who were aggrieved bided their time or went along, some, as several told me, even deciding the battle was hopeless, and they had mortgages to meet.

Dzaiddin was one whose views were so well known that then chief justice, Eusoff, saw him as a rival to office, which he was, ignored him or assigned irrelevant cases, and moved heaven and earth to ensure he did not succeed him. He could not.

On taking office, he did what he could to set matters right. He had too little time to make many changes, but he did give the leadership the judiciary needed. But on his retirement, he recanted, and joined the pack. He should not have taken legal advice and threaten to sue. Skrine & Co should not have responded to the Star at all.

He should have taken the high road and decided, on reflection, he would not be party to any scheme that caused needless controversy or compromised judicial integrity. And left, with his head high. It is still not too late. He can still tell Skrine & Co: thanks, but no thanks. And create a precedent for other judges to follow on their retirement. Would he?