Our judiciary has become fond of literature and philosophy. Not long ago, a judge quoted from Kahlil Gibran’s Pity the Nation and lamented at the sorry state of affairs in Pakistan. The judge was pitying the nation that does what it shouldn’t be doing, and doesn’t do what it should be doing. Apart from the shallowness of the argument, the judge never talked about what the judiciary should or shouldn’t be doing. Then came the Panama Papers and we saw people anxiously listening to what the judges had to say. One of judge invoked Mario Puzo (1920-1999) by referring to his novel, The Godfather.

The idea was to show that no big fortune can be accumulated without indulging in crimes. While agreeing or disagreeing with the learned judges is a personal choice, there is no harm in recommending another piece of fine literature that highlights the entire judicial system itself. If Gibran (1883-1931) is famous for his philosophical musing and Puzo is known for exposing mafias, Franz Kafka (1883-1924), a German-speaking Austrian Jew, has to his credit a new term -- Kafkaesque -- to describe the banality of modern-day bureaucratic, commercial, and judicial systems.

Though both Gibran and Puzo have some relevance to Pakistan, Kafka’s novel The Trial is an apt commentary on the entire procedure of accusation, investigation, prosecution, and sentencing. The novel is ambiguous and some readers find it too complex to understand, but anyone who has had an experience of the judicial system in Pakistan -- or in any other country for that matter -- will find the novel interesting and scathing. While it defies exact interpretation, the plight of the accused is easy to empathise with. The accused is condemned for some sort of crime by a court with which he cannot communicate.

Written in the early 20^th century, The Trial is as relevant today as it was then. It presents a profound and disturbing image of the modern world and the lack of humanity in it. In the novel, the court serves as a symbol of imperfections in society where the person is disconnected with its surrounding. Whenever the accused tries to connect with anyone around him, the relation becomes superficial and insensitive. The elusiveness of justice is a recurring theme throughout The Trial that provokes the accused to indulge in emotional outbursts.

Interestingly, Kafka had ordered in his will that The Trial be destroyed, but his friends saved it and it became one of the pillars on which Kafka’s reputation rests. The novel begins when two guards intrude into the bedroom of a 30-year-old man, Joseph K, to tell him he is under arrest. The intruders can’t inform the accused about what he is accused of; as they themselves are unaware of the charges. The inspectors subject Joseph K. to a brief and puzzling interrogation, and finally tell him, though he is under arrest, he can live life as usual and go to the bank where he works.

This is one of the most interesting openings of a novel reflecting on an entire generation of people who are condemned to feel guilty for a crime they have not committed and for the charges they are not even aware of. They are allowed to live their lives ‘normally’ provided they appear before the court when summoned. K is called for an inquiry to the court, without a precise address of the court. Trying to locate the court, K comes upon a washerwoman who is washing dirty laundry adjacent to the court. She leads her to a large and camped hall where magistrates are waiting for him.

See the connection? The dirty laundry is not far from the court and an accused must go through it first. K protests and denounces the court for corruption but to his utter surprise the court is filled with court officials. The magistrate keeps telling K that his behaviour has damaged his case. Now the charges are less important than the behaviour of the accused and the strength or weakness of the case becomes directly proportional with how K acts in front of the court. K ends up boycotting the proceedings. On his next unsummoned visit, K discovers that the washerwoman is court usher’s wife and a seductress.

While seducing K, she lets him explore the empty courtroom where he finds that the magistrate’s notebooks are pornographic novels. Here in one go, Kafka discloses how the lower staff of the court and the judiciary use each other to gratify their own base desires. Then the usher’s wife is carried away, presumably to sleep with a judge. Meanwhile in dilapidated offices of the court, K meets other defendants who have suffered long wear and tear undergoing a trial. Just pause here, and recall various conspiracy cases in the history of Pakistan.

The Rawalpindi Conspiracy case, the Agartalla case, the Hyderabad tribunal, all taking a heavy toll on the accused who in most case was either wrongly accused or the cases were quashed when the regime in power decided to do so, irrespective of the long list of accusations. Or recall the ZA Bhutto case, the mockery of justice, and the physical wreck Bhutto became. Or recall the treatment Jam Saqi had to withstand at the hands of a sham military court; or Benazir’s travails in 1980s and 90s. Kafka has shown the court office buildings as always muggy enough to cause fainting.

A lack of fresh air in the courts is shown to be nauseating. If Kafka is not convincing to you, just try it yourself. In another interesting turn, Kafka shows the guards -- who arrested K in the opening chapter -- being flogged because K complained against them. Here the guards, the inspectors, the minions of the court, are all pawns in the hands of high officials. They are used and then flogged or even killed. Remember the assassination of Murtaza Bhutto and then the murder of one of the police officials involved? Then Kafka brings in a defence lawyer recommended to K by his uncle.

The lawyer is ill but chatting with the chief clerk of the court who has come to the lawyer’s place. A nurse is taking care of the sick lawyer and wastes no time in seducing K by allowing him to make love to her. Here again the court clerks are exposed to be in cahoots with the lawyers and the nurse is ever ready to please the clients of the lawyers.

Toward the end, the trial has completely distracted K making him unable to focus at work properly; and you expected Benazir Bhutto, Yousuf Raza Gilani, and Nawaz Sharif to be focusing on their work while being hounded by one case after another? The accused is dissatisfied with the lawyer who doesn’t seem to be making any progress. Then comes in the court painter who paints judges’ portraits to their pleasure. The painter explains to K that acquittal is unheard of and the only option is to endlessly defer the judgement. The court painter extorts some money from the accused by selling him landscapes that he doesn’t need.

The end of the novel is up to you to read. If you find reading tedious, watch a marvelous film adaptation of The Trial by the great director Orson Wells. The film was made in 1962 with Anthony Perkins, of the Psycho fame, as Joseph K, and Orson Wells himself as the lawyer. If you want a newer production, go for 1993 version with the Nobel Laureate Harold Pinter’s screenplay; Anthony Hopkins as the court chaplain, and Jason Robards as the lawyer. Orson Wells is much more successful in recreating the dreary atmosphere that is truly Kafkaesque. Both, novel, and the movie, are highly recommended.