I recognize, in writing about the Bar and having been myself disbarred for political reasons last year, that I shall probably be accused of some species of sour grapes. Not so. My disbarment in late 2016 at the instigation of a pack of Jewish Zionists had no practical effect on me beyond a couple of days of newspaper and Twitter nonsense. I ceased practice at the English Bar in 2008 and last appeared in court (Central London County Court, a three-day construction case) in December 2007. The views I am about to express were mine, in essence, then too.
What is “the Bar”, what is its purpose or role and what prompts me to call it “a dustbin”?
There is no point in going into long history or explanation. It is enough to say that the English Bar grew organically out of British history and society intimately connected with the struggle for free speech against the tyrannical tendency inherent in monarchical rule. I suppose that, today, a figure such as John Hampden is less well known by, e.g. schoolchildren than, say, Nelson Mandela, just as the founder of modern nursing, Florence Nightingale, has been eclipsed by the minor figure of Mary Seacole (who set up a tea-room in the Crimean War). “They established brainwashing and called it education.”
At any rate, it can be said that the institution of the Bar, meaning the independent Bar, the Bar independent of the State, grew at least partly out of that struggle for the rights of the individual as against the power of the State. Free speech was part of it, as were the rights of property (set against the mediaeval feudal system of royal and baronial –etc– patronage).
It is this very independence of the Bar which has now largely been destroyed, though remnants remain. The Bar has become entangled with the State. Civil and criminal legal aid, in many ways very useful for society and individual persons (criminal defendants, and those making or defending a civil claim), yet has had the effect of making the Bar dependent on State patronage. The proliferation of quangos requiring chairpersons and/or legal advisers has made many barristers further dependent, financially, on the State, in effect at least. Finally, the adoption of a Zionist-drafted and/or influenced “Code of Conduct”, increasingly draconian in its enforcement and enforced by an increasingly-active regulatory body (the Bar Standards Board) has made many at the Bar afraid of their own shadows.
When I was a student of law, I graduated (aged 30) in 1987. At that time, there was only one place to take the then “Bar Finals course” (a one-year course for most students)– the Inns of Court School of Law, located in Gray’s Inn. That was inconvenient for those whose usual residence was far from London, but it had the merit that barristers emerged from the same institution and often acquainted to some extent with each other. Though there were over a thousand students, many were foreign citizens almost all of whom would return to practise law in their home countries (many eventually to lead those countries politically, or even to found states, as did Gandhi and Jinnah).
During the 1990s, the Bar Finals course, sub nom Bar Vocational Course, was changed to be less academic, more practical. There were benefits to that in terms of the confidence of young barristers, but the drawback was that, bluntly, it became easier to become a barrister.
The Inns of Court School lost its monopoly under the influence of globalism and ensuing legislation, the Bar being regarded as just another “business” offering “legal services” to “consumers”. Soon a multitude of “service providers” (universities, former polytechnics etc) offered “Bar” courses. That remains the case today. A barrister now is simply someone who has acquired two pieces of paper: a “degree” of some sort and a certificate that the requisite Bar course has been completed (and few fail these days…).
The only thing preventing untold thousands more practising at the Bar is the pupillage bottleneck, but many are now allowed to “complete pupillage” in places like government departments, so it is perfectly possible to have substandard barristers (practising in court and advising people) who have a degree from a place which is little more than a degree mill, a Bar qualification which is given to almost all who take the course and a pupillage as an office bod in, say, a provincial government department building.
There has always been a space and vacancy problem at the Bar, both for practising barristers and pupil-barristers: until recent years, barristers were often squashed into inadequate rooms in the Inns, four or more to a room in some chambers. That is less acute now because chambers are able to exist, even in London, outside the Inns. However, that too has led to problems. Sets of barristers were established outside the Inns of Court. Some were good, others less good. One example in the 1990s called itself “Brick Lane Chambers” and was composed largely of Bangladeshis and others unable to work elsewhere. It was given a subsidy by the notorious Tower Hamlets Council, based on numbers of “legal service providers” available, the idea being to increase “legal service provision” in an area supposedly without much.
I knew a barrister (still in practice today) whose name was fraudulently added to the “Brick Lane Chambers” list in order for those chambers to get extra money from the local council. She was not alone. She complained and her name was taken off the list, but no action was taken by the local council or the Bar itself in respect of a deliberate and egregious fraud. At that time, the Bar had already embarked on its “let’s not annoy the ethnic minorities” journey.
As a Bar student, I proposed (but not officially) a different idea, which would have safeguarded the Bar’s integrity: to found a fifth Inn of Court. That, however, would have involved huge cost, for one thing. It also would have required the clearance of a large site in Central London. Instead, sets of poor barristers started above laundromats and in shopfront premises (others moved from the Inns into far better circumstances).
Now we come to the regulation of the Bar. The Code of Conduct, once a slim volume, perfectly workable and focussed on trust and integrity, became a thick sheaf of papers packed with the politically-correct shibboleths of the day. It has, in its application, destroyed the independence of mind of the Bar. I refer the reader to my own experience:
As to recruits to the Bar, many now are brainwashed into a politically-correct mindset and (bearing in mind the pressure on pupillages and tenancies) few are willing to do anything but condemn those who (like me) are thought to have controversial views. They fail to see that their doormatting to the Jewish-Zionist element will not help most of them much. When I was at school in the 1970s, there were about 5,000 practising barristers; when I was Called to the Bar (1991) there were about 10,000 or so, I believe. Now that figure is something like 18,000! Meanwhile, criminal and other legal aid has been slashed and “solicitor-advocates” appear in court too. The result has been that the prestige of the Bar has plummeted. I do not regret that I no longer practise.
For the public, for society, the result of the Bar’s fall has been that the service available is more limited, poorer and that the independent voice of an independent barrister is muted. Just as, in the journalistic milieu, “journalists” of today (particularly online) are often twenty-somethings with no real training or education, their heads full of politically-correct nonsense, the Bar is now full of “barristers” who are really just barristers on paper, men of straw (women too), without real substance. The “journalists” thus cravenly welcome censorship and the “barristers” are unwilling to be seen as even listening to contrary views, let alone standing up for freedom of expression.