counterblast

The Lockerbie bombing was unprecedented and so is the trial, more than 10 years later, of those alleged to have carried it out. The fact it is happening at all is a legal and diplomatic triumph, which just goes to show that when needs must, and against all the odds, heads can be banged toge ther and creative solutions reached in the interests of all - not least the relatives of the Lockerbie dead, who may finally discover what really happened to their loved ones that terrible December night. For them, may it help bring closure to a decade of unresolved torment.

 Beyond that human dimension, the trial represents a defining moment in international relations. It will allow for a settling of accounts between Britain, the USA and Libya and contribute to a long-term solution of the Middle East conflict. For the Scottish legal system it means opening its procedures and practices to the scrutiny of the global community. It is not only two Libyans on trial in Holland, but the Scottish justice system itself. 

It seems odd, then, and out of keeping with the forward-looking spirit of compromise which has allowed the case to go ahead, that the people of the world are to be prevented from watching the trial of the millenium - this millenium, and quite possibly the next - on TV. This, despite the combined view of the international media that access should be granted on grounds of "historical relevance and moral necessity". Justice, say CNN and others, must be seen to be done. 

To be fair, that argument has never been accepted as a reason to allow courtroom television in the UK and there is no obvious reason why it should apply now. The Scottish legal system enjoys inter national respect and cameras in the courtroom aren't needed to prove its fairness. No. The argument for televising the Lockerbie trial boils down to a simple question - why not?

 Some warn that cameras risk turning the event into a media circus, like the trials of OJ Simpson and Louise Woodward in the US. In both of those cases, live TV coverage became an unwelcome factor in the proceedings. Through the window of television, media-savvy defence lawyers successfully mobilised public opinion behind their clients in ways which amounted to extra-legal lobbying of the judicial system. Lawyers, judges and jurors became celebrities, and the defendants emerged as briefly-glowing stars of the post-trial chat show circuit.

 Undignified, perhaps, and at times distasteful. But no-one has shown that courtroom TV influen ced the verdicts in either of those cases. Woodward was found guilty of manslaughter and Simp son was cleared because of the LAPD's racism. All the cameras did was to expose it to public view. In doing so, they ensured the OJ Simpson trial had a positive, educational impact on US thinking about racism. 

Similarly, TV images of the Woodward trial sparked a serious transatlantic debate about the ethics of childminding, while a few years earlier, live coverage of the Anita Hill-Clarence Thomas case put the issue of sexual harassment right at the top of the US public agenda. These trials were media spectacles, but they also prompted valuable public debate of neglec ted social issues. 

Lockerbie is different, of course. There are no celebrities involved. No sensational revelations about sex and drugs are to be expected, and there are no cute defendants to elicit our sympathies. This is a Scottish trial, moreover, conducted in a legal and media environment very different from that of the USA. There is no reason to think televising it would not provide, at least in Britain, all the civic benefits of public access and accountability, without the negative side effects of grandstanding lawyers and publicity-seeking witnesses. 

The real reason you won't be able to watch the trial has nothing to do with OJ Simpson or Louise Woodward, I suspect. It's more likely our governments are nervous about what it might reveal of the activities of their secret ser vices. 

Rumours and stories have circulated for 10 years about rogue intelligence operations and dirty tricks, and the trial will inevitably shed embarrassing light on some of that. Thank goodness, then, for the reporting restrictions available to a Scottish court, and the power they give to control and manage - to censor, if need be - potentially damaging information. There may be valid security reasons for the restrictions, but fear of a media circus isn't one of them.
 
 

Brian McNair is Reader of Film and Media Studies at the University of Stirling