The noise and the toga: Marchena has the permission

Anyone who approaches Justice Threatened hoping to find an indictment against the government or a veiled chronicle of the judiciary in turbulent times will come away with a slight disappointment. This is not a book of outbursts or revelations. Marchena, a prudent civil servant even as he approaches retirement, is not prepared to burn bridges. He doesn't write to stir up trouble, but to reflect. And that gesture—in his case ironic, but serene—is already, in these times, an unusual act of resistance. Although, of course, Marchena is not Trotsky, nor does he pretend to be.

It's not often that a judge—let alone one of his stature—enters the publishing world with an opinion piece. Not so long ago, sitting magistrates like Perfecto Andrés Ibáñez frequently wrote for the press. Today, that kind of public intervention is rare. Therefore, beyond its content, what makes this book unique is, quite simply, its existence. Its author is not fooled: he knows that its main attraction lies not so much in what it says, but in the fact that it is said by him. It is assumed that, coming from Marchena, any statement will be a torpedo to the Executive's waterline. It is not.

⁄ It is assumed that, coming from Marchena, it will be a torpedo to the Executive's waterline. It is not.

The style is another of its strong points: polished, Cervantine prose, full of Enlightenment echoes. There are echoes of Feijoo, Jovellanos, Silvela, and Maura, which give the text a serene gravity, more ethical than legal. It's a book that is enjoyable to read, even in its most somber diagnoses. It's nothing like the typical writings of a judge, those rhetorical devices that reek of opposition syllabus and nineteenth-century mothballs.

Marchena reviews the classic ills of our administration of justice: the politicization of the Council, structural overload, environmental pressure, and citizen distrust. But he does so without raising his voice, without pointing fingers, and—despite the title of the first chapter, "Who does the prosecutor depend on? Well, that's it..."—without entering into partisan squabbling. There is no further reference to current politics here than that unfortunate phrase from Pedro Sánchez. Anyone expecting to see the role of the attorney general questioned will be disappointed.

Marchena even understands that the prosecutor should be dependent on the government: to do otherwise, he warns, would create another autonomous and irresponsible branch. He merely suggests sensible, possible nuances. It's another matter that, today, common sense and feasibility seem like utopias reserved for titans.

Beyond the diagnosis, what is striking is the deliberate absence of structural proposals. Marchena does not advocate legislative reforms or organizational revolutions. His proposal is, seemingly, more modest, but also more ambitious: that we all—citizens, politicians, judges—be better. That we practice moderation, temperance, and balanced judgment. As a practical jurist, he knows that a good law is not enough: it's just the beginning. Without a context of mutual respect and balance, the law is of little use. To use one of his most famous catchphrases: "We're off to a bad start..."

In a country where self-criticism is considered a weakness, Marchena doesn't hesitate to wonder whether these virtues are still alive in his own house—the courts. There is a fundamental criticism, barely outlined: justice has lost the habit of introspection. One can judge without learning anything, immersed in a self-satisfied and immobile solitude. The law can be applied without wisdom. One can choose poorly, even with the best standards.

And yet, the book doesn't sound like a lament, but rather a calm warning. Marchena doesn't want to shock us: he wants to remind us that there is still a dignified way to exercise public office. That all is not lost if it's still possible to write serenely, no matter how much the world advances at breakneck speed—and not always for the better.

Manuel Marchena Justice under threat Espasa 352 pages

21.75 euros