A FEW weeks ago the Court of Arbitration for Sports affirmed the rights of the International Olympic Committee to take away the gold and bronze medals from the US women’s relay squads, which they won at the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games.
The medals were stripped from the 1,600m relay and 400m relay teams because a member of the squads, Marion Jones, admitted in 2007 that she was at the time using performance-enhancing drugs.
Jones was no doubt the golden girl of American athletics, having won three gold and two bronze medals at 2000 Sydney Olympics and many accolades at other world meets. That was before her dramatic tearful admission on the steps of the courthouse one October morning in 2007.
That may be so, but many pundits agree that Jones, even without being chemically aided, would have been good enough to win many of the events she entered. So the vexing question is what makes talented athletes like Jones, who are physically so well endowed and talented beyond the ordinary, resort to taking life-threatening and career-ending drugs? Why waste the gift, talent and training by such misguided acts?
This is a question which is asked not just of athletes but also of people from other walks of life. It is asked of one prominent lawyer who passed away recently. Of him one critic wrote: “(He) had a wide and varied legal experience with stints as a federal counsel and thereafter sitting as a magistrate, senior assistant registrar, a sessions judge before being promoted to judicial commissioner. His rise after that from the High Court judge to the Federal Court was meteoric. He was active in hockey and church. (He) sacrificed his time to be an external examiner for universities. He was intellectually active and wrote prolifically, writing and editing several books that have become standard references in practice, presented papers whenever he had time and opportunity. All that on top of his job as a judge.”
However, it was in his performance as a judge that his critics found him most wanting. It is said in most crucial cases he so consistently ruled in favour of the government of the day that his impartiality (a cardinal requisite for a judge) was called into question.
So the question is asked: “Why do people blessed with such power, influence and such abilities to do great and good things to further the cause of justice do otherwise? Why do men so possessed of such wealth of intellect, eloquence and learning soil their entire familial heritage in the pursuit of mere money and superficial privilege?”
The same question was asked of one Judge Jeffreys. He was the King’s judge during the turbulent years of English history in the 17th century when the Duke of Monmouth was leading a rebellion against King James II. In his anxiety to serve his master and secure conviction against alleged rebels he browbeat the jury into giving a guilty verdict.
One particularly tragic case was that of Alice Lisle. The little old lady was charged with high treason when she gave a night’s lodging to a man called Hicks. Unbeknown to her the man was alleged to be in the rebellion on the side of the Duke of Monmouth. There was in law no case against Lisle because Hicks had not been tried, nor had he been convicted of treason. She took the legal objection herself that the principal traitor (Hicks) ought first to have been convicted before she could be charged for the crime of harbouring a rebel. The jury agreed with her but that did not stop the judge from summing up furiously against her and sent the jury back to reconsider each they return a verdict of not guilty.
“Thrice did the jury refuse to find a verdict of guilty and thrice did Lord Chief Justice Jeffreys send them back to reconsider their verdict.”
Sad to say the jury finally gave in to Jeffreys and Lisle was sentenced to be burnt at the stake.
These two men of the law, in spite of their vast knowledge were unable to practise and dispense justice. And like Marion Jones, they were unable to resist the lure of material rewards and they turned their backs on the path of righteousness and suffered the risk of going down in history as icons of infamy.
Such was not the case of Song Jiang from the Chinese Classic ‘The Water Margin’. (‘The Water Margin’ also known as ‘Outlaws of the Marsh’ or ‘All Men Are Brothers’ is one of the Great Classical Novels of Chinese literature which detailed the trials and tribulations of 108 outlaws during the mid Song Dynasty of 12th century).
Though he led a band of rebels against the corrupt and unjust officials of the country, Song Jiang always remained true to his emperor and country. He never once strayed from the path of righteousness. So when the emperor offered him amnesty he gladly led his generals and army out of the safe haven of the marshes and accepted positions in the emperor’s service.
However, the jealous and corrupt ministers plotted for his downfall. They managed to fool the emperor and persuaded his majesty to send some poisoned wine to Song Jiang. It was written that though Song Jiang suspected the foul deed but he never believed that the emperor would wilfully harm him. He was aware that he had great power at his disposal. He could regroup his band of former outlaws and muster up a great army. But he was true to the principle “with great power come great responsibility” (this is a line taken from the movie ‘Spiderman’). He believed that his responsibility was to ensure that his comrades would not take up arms against the emperor. So when they suggested that they returned again into the life of outlaws, he said: “I will never besmirch the name of my family by treacherous deed and disloyalty to the emperor.” He commanded his generals to drink the poisoned wine with him.
So we are back to muse the question, “Why do people blessed with such power, influence and such abilities to do great and good things to further the cause of justice do otherwise? Why do men so possessed of such wealth of intellect, eloquence and learning soil their entire familial heritage in the pursuit of mere money and superficial privilege?”
The writer can be contacted at [email protected].