Court trial a legal knell for Cardinal George Pell
CARDINAL George Pell is represented by arguably the most high-powered legal team in Australia, but none of that matters in court — justice is blind, and he is a person in the system, writes Patrick Carlyon.
Law & Order
Don't miss out on the headlines from Law & Order. Followed categories will be added to My News.
IT’S 72 minutes into Tuesday’s committal hearing, and about half of the historical sex charges against Cardinal George Pell have been dismissed.
If Pell is pleased — his legal team were thought to have been fretting beforehand that all the charges would be sent to trial — he isn’t showing it.
PELL TO STAND TRIAL ON HISTORICAL SEX CHARGES
SUSIE O’BRIEN: NOT EVEN PELL IS ABOVE THE LAW
Pell has been greeted by the usual heckling outside the Melbourne Magistrates’ Court. The protesters seem caught off guard by the speed of his arrival. Their punchlines are raw, and lacking in the barbed lightness that customarily snag a few laughs.
Pell has since been a quiet presence in Court 1 of the Melbourne Magistrates’ Court. Elderly and bespectacled, and easy to overlook. His stoop deprives him of presence.
The “face” of the Catholic Church, as his lawyer called him, resembles a blinking owl. He could be just another observer, in a room stacked with sex abuse victim advocates.
Magistrate Belinda Wallington has now concluded her findings, a lengthy process punctuated by sips of water.
It’s time for the formalities.
In a few moments, Pell’s bail conditions will be set. There will be limits on his liberty and — for such a lofty figure who once commanded such a large and dedicated base — a loss of dignity. The court will set out who Pell cannot see and where he cannot go.
Pell is represented by arguably the most high-powered legal team in Australia. His neighbour in the front row is a well-known Catholic figure.
Thirty-five or more police will soon, with typically formidable determination, link arms to escort him to his waiting Holden.
Right now, however, none of this matters.
Justice is blind, and Pell is a person in the system. He is being addressed directly.
Wallington, telling him he need not rise, explains: “You may plead guilty or not guilty.”
The hushed atmosphere helps explain why Pell’s answer jolts everyone in the room to attention.
He does not hesitate.
His is a stentorian boom. “NOT GUILTY,” he declares. If the plea is no surprise, neither is the reaction to events.
Wallington is applauded after she leaves the courtroom.
Pell’s lawyer, Robert Richter, QC, had argued that all the charges should be dropped, largely because the allegations are “impossible”.
It has been agreed by many observers of the four-week committal hearing that, should they ever stand accused of a crime, they would urge their families to sell everything to pay Richter’s fees.
Richter artfully uses Tuesday’s hearing to point out that “the vilest of the charges” against his client have been dropped.
Julie Cameron, a merry presence with a grim message, had left an Easter egg on Pell’s seat at one point during the committal. A victims’ advocate, Cameron is not concerned about the separation of church, state and the judiciary.
Before Tuesday’s hearing begins, she distributes “Alleluia” cards to celebrate how Wallington’s decision can give “truth” a chance.
Afterwards, she clutches a tattered Bible and urges the crowd on the street to “hip hip hooray” the magistrate.
It’s yet another first in a strange saga of them.