Barclays’ chief executive, Antony Jenkins, has said that it could take up to a decade for the bank to regain public trust in the aftermath of a series of scandals.
Mr Jenkins made the comment in a speech to students at Brooke House Sixth Form College in East London.
In the chat, which was broadcast on this morning's Today programme on BBC Radio 4, Mr Jenkins said: “Trust is a very easy thing to lose, and a very hard thing to win back.
"In my view it will takes several years - probably five to ten - to rebuilt trust in Barclays."
Barclays was the first bank to be implicated in the Libor scandal, in which traders rigged the London inter-banking rate, leading to a £290 million fine in June 2012, and the bank was also involved in the PPI mis-selling scandal.
Mr Jenkins vowed to restore Barclay’s reputation when he was made CEO in August last year, after the Libor scandal brought down his predecessor, Bob Diamond. In February he revealed his plan to overhaul the bank by fundamentally changing the culture under which its traders operate.
He added in his speech that he hoped the future actions of Barclays would help rebuild confidence in the wider banking sector.
Mr Jenkins chose as his theme “the importance of long-term thinking and planning, and proper leadership”.
“Trust is lost in weeks and months, and regained in years and decades,” he said.
"My point is not that short term markets are bad or inaccurate. They serve a very useful purpose. It is susceptible to elevator analysis – this is up this is down. In addition to looking at the short term and what that tells us how do we focus on longer term drivers of the economy."
British economist John Kay told the Today programme, which Mr Jenkins was guest editing, that bankers' now spend more time than religious leaders telling the public that they are ethical, while simultaneously working in an industry that has acted anything but ethically.
“Over the last 20 years banks have systematically destroyed their relationship with their customers,” Mr Kay said, adding that he was not very optimistic that things would improve.
Mr Jenkins responded by saying that that the cure to a rotten culture is proper leadership from the top, but that the process is a slow one.
"In my view leadership sets the culture in big organisations and culture drives organisational performance. If you want a different sort of organisational performance, a more ethical business, you’re going to have to change culture. Culture takes time to change and it comes back to leadership. If you take a long term perspective you’ll build the right culture," he said.
Mr Jenkins added that he was setting a target for Barclays to be more trusted than not by 2018.
It is one of eight commitments Jenkins will make to staff, customers, shareholders and what he calls society in a few months.
Source: Independent
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Friday, December 13, 2013
Volcker Rule: Real Bank Regulation or Smoke and Mirrors?
U.S. regulators have approved new legislation, the Volcker Rule, which seeks to prevent the similar acts of risk-taking on Wall Street that helped trigger the 2008 financial crisis. The rule aims to limit banks’ trading bets, being bared from trading for their own profit. The legislation itself is over 900 pages long, with new narrower exemptions for legitimate trades.
Five U.S. regulatory agencies voted on the rule which seeks to ban a lucrative practice for banks, that is proprietary trading. Aside from the trading, the new legislation also limits banks’ investments in hedge funds and private equity funds. The rule is named for Paul Volcker, a former Federal Reserve chairman who was an adviser to President Obama during the financial crisis.
Banks had hoped to substantially soften the rule, but the infamous “London Whale,” JPMorgan’s $6 billion trading loss in 2012, motivated regulators to devise a tough version. The impact of the regulations will depend on how forcefully the banks are monitored in order to assure that they are not trying to mask speculative bets as permissible trades.
The rule promises surveillance of big banks’ trading operations, the majority of which will be summarized through documentation requirements which force banks to justify trades and strategies, basically the banks will have to monitor themselves, and report their actions honestly and accurately. Regulators will be responsible for checking the banks’ self-reporting.
“The rule is so conceptual it’s all about the implementation,… The regulators didn’t draw really bright lines for hedging or market-making. This thing is one giant loophole if it’s badly implemented.” – Marcus Stanley, policy director for Americans for Financial Reform, a group that represents more than 250 organizations.
The public will be placing their trust in regulators once again, who in the past failed to notice, or neglected to mention, the potential dangers facing the financial market.
“No one will really know whether regulators, who have failed so abysmally in the past, have learned from the crisis and will start regulating the banks for real by aggressively enforcing the Volcker Rule,” – Dennis Kelleher, president of Better Markets, a nonprofit group that advocates stringent rules on big banks.
The Volcker Rule is being portrayed in the media as being tough: restricting the investment decisions of the banks. In reality however, there remains no thorough outline detailing the regulation procedures, and the responsibility lays mostly on the banks to regulate themselves, and for us to trust that they are going to report their actions honestly. We are apparently also expected to trust that the regulators are going to inform the public promptly, and follow proper criminal procedures, if there are any exchanges or actions which diverge from the permitted guidelines set out in Volcker’s new rule.
“At some point someone is going to have to write up a manual for examiners on what to look for and how to enforce that stuff. That’s going to be a really important document,” – Bradley Sabel, legal counsel at Shearman and Sterling.
For now though, we just get to wonder if his is the beginning of real regulation for the banks, or new set of smoke and mirrors.
Source: http://www.exposingthetruth.co
Five U.S. regulatory agencies voted on the rule which seeks to ban a lucrative practice for banks, that is proprietary trading. Aside from the trading, the new legislation also limits banks’ investments in hedge funds and private equity funds. The rule is named for Paul Volcker, a former Federal Reserve chairman who was an adviser to President Obama during the financial crisis.
Banks had hoped to substantially soften the rule, but the infamous “London Whale,” JPMorgan’s $6 billion trading loss in 2012, motivated regulators to devise a tough version. The impact of the regulations will depend on how forcefully the banks are monitored in order to assure that they are not trying to mask speculative bets as permissible trades.
The rule promises surveillance of big banks’ trading operations, the majority of which will be summarized through documentation requirements which force banks to justify trades and strategies, basically the banks will have to monitor themselves, and report their actions honestly and accurately. Regulators will be responsible for checking the banks’ self-reporting.
“The rule is so conceptual it’s all about the implementation,… The regulators didn’t draw really bright lines for hedging or market-making. This thing is one giant loophole if it’s badly implemented.” – Marcus Stanley, policy director for Americans for Financial Reform, a group that represents more than 250 organizations.
The public will be placing their trust in regulators once again, who in the past failed to notice, or neglected to mention, the potential dangers facing the financial market.
“No one will really know whether regulators, who have failed so abysmally in the past, have learned from the crisis and will start regulating the banks for real by aggressively enforcing the Volcker Rule,” – Dennis Kelleher, president of Better Markets, a nonprofit group that advocates stringent rules on big banks.
The Volcker Rule is being portrayed in the media as being tough: restricting the investment decisions of the banks. In reality however, there remains no thorough outline detailing the regulation procedures, and the responsibility lays mostly on the banks to regulate themselves, and for us to trust that they are going to report their actions honestly. We are apparently also expected to trust that the regulators are going to inform the public promptly, and follow proper criminal procedures, if there are any exchanges or actions which diverge from the permitted guidelines set out in Volcker’s new rule.
“At some point someone is going to have to write up a manual for examiners on what to look for and how to enforce that stuff. That’s going to be a really important document,” – Bradley Sabel, legal counsel at Shearman and Sterling.
For now though, we just get to wonder if his is the beginning of real regulation for the banks, or new set of smoke and mirrors.
Source: http://www.exposingthetruth.co
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Obama's tribute to Mandela: The full speech
To Graça Machel and the Mandela family; to President Zuma and members of the government; to heads of state and government, past and present; distinguished guests – it is a singular honor to be with you today, to celebrate a life unlike any other. To the people of South Africa – people of every race and walk of life – the world thanks you for sharing Nelson Mandela with us. His struggle was your struggle. His triumph was your triumph. Your dignity and hope found expression in his life, and your freedom, your democracy is his cherished legacy.
It is hard to eulogise any man – to capture in words not just the facts and the dates that make a life, but the essential truth of a person – their private joys and sorrows; the quiet moments and unique qualities that illuminate someone’s soul. How much harder to do so for a giant of history, who moved a nation toward justice, and in the process moved billions around the world.
Born during World War I, far from the corridors of power, a boy raised herding cattle and tutored by elders of his Thembu tribe – Madiba would emerge as the last great liberator of the 20th century. Like Gandhi, he would lead a resistance movement – a movement that at its start held little prospect of success. Like King, he would give potent voice to the claims of the oppressed, and the moral necessity of racial justice. He would endure a brutal imprisonment that began in the time of Kennedy and Khrushchev, and reached the final days of the Cold War. Emerging from prison, without force of arms, he would – like Lincoln – hold his country together when it threatened to break apart. Like America's founding fathers, he would erect a constitutional order to preserve freedom for future generations - a commitment to democracy and rule of law ratified not only by his election, but by his willingness to step down from power.
Given the sweep of his life, and the adoration that he so rightly earned, it is tempting then to remember Nelson Mandela as an icon, smiling and serene, detached from the tawdry affairs of lesser men. But Madiba himself strongly resisted such a lifeless portrait. Instead, he insisted on sharing with us his doubts and fears; his miscalculations along with his victories. "I'm not a saint," he said, "unless you think of a saint as a sinner who keeps on trying."
It was precisely because he could admit to imperfection – because he could be so full of good humor, even mischief, despite the heavy burdens he carried - that we loved him so. He was not a bust made of marble; he was a man of flesh and blood – a son and husband, a father and a friend. That is why we learned so much from him; that is why we can learn from him still. For nothing he achieved was inevitable. In the arc of his life, we see a man who earned his place in history through struggle and shrewdness; persistence and faith. He tells us what’s possible not just in the pages of dusty history books, but in our own lives as well.
Mandela showed us the power of action; of taking risks on behalf of our ideals. Perhaps Madiba was right that he inherited, "a proud rebelliousness, a stubborn sense of fairness" from his father. Certainly he shared with millions of black and colored South Africans the anger born of, "a thousand slights, a thousand indignities, a thousand unremembered moments … a desire to fight the system that imprisoned my people."
But like other early giants of the ANC – the Sisulus and Tambos – Madiba disciplined his anger; and channelled his desire to fight into organisation, and platforms, and strategies for action, so men and women could stand-up for their dignity. Moreover, he accepted the consequences of his actions, knowing that standing up to powerful interests and injustice carries a price. "I have fought against white domination and I have fought against black domination," he said at his 1964 trial. "I’ve cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die."
Mandela taught us the power of action, but also ideas; the importance of reason and arguments; the need to study not only those you agree with, but those who you don’t. He understood that ideas cannot be contained by prison walls, or extinguished by a sniper’s bullet. He turned his trial into an indictment of apartheid because of his eloquence and passion, but also his training as an advocate. He used decades in prison to sharpen his arguments, but also to spread his thirst for knowledge to others in the movement. And he learned the language and customs of his oppressor so that one day he might better convey to them how their own freedom depended upon his.
Mandela demonstrated that action and ideas are not enough; no matter how right, they must be chiseled into laws and institutions. He was practical, testing his beliefs against the hard surface of circumstance and history. On core principles he was unyielding, which is why he could rebuff offers of conditional release, reminding the Apartheid regime that, "prisoners cannot enter into contracts." But as he showed in painstaking negotiations to transfer power and draft new laws, he was not afraid to compromise for the sake of a larger goal. And because he was not only a leader of a movement, but a skillful politician, the Constitution that emerged was worthy of this multiracial democracy; true to his vision of laws that protect minority as well as majority rights, and the precious freedoms of every South African.
Finally, Mandela understood the ties that bind the human spirit. There is a word in South Africa – Ubuntu – that describes his greatest gift: his recognition that we are all bound together in ways that can be invisible to the eye; that there is a oneness to humanity; that we achieve ourselves by sharing ourselves with others, and caring for those around us. We can never know how much of this was innate in him, or how much of it was shaped and burnished in a dark, solitary cell. But we remember the gestures, large and small – introducing his jailors as honoured guests at his inauguration; taking the pitch in a Springbok uniform; turning his family’s heartbreak into a call to confront HIV and Aids – that revealed the depth of his empathy and understanding. He not only embodied Ubuntu; he taught millions to find that truth within themselves. It took a man like Madiba to free not just the prisoner, but the jailor as well; to show that you must trust others so that they may trust you; to teach that reconciliation is not a matter of ignoring a cruel past, but a means of confronting it with inclusion, generosity and truth. He changed laws, but also hearts.
For the people of South Africa, for those he inspired around the globe – Madiba’s passing is rightly a time of mourning, and a time to celebrate his heroic life. But I believe it should also prompt in each of us a time for self-reflection. With honesty, regardless of our station or circumstance, we must ask: how well have I applied his lessons in my own life?
It is a question I ask myself – as a man and as a president. We know that like South Africa, the United States had to overcome centuries of racial subjugation. As was true here, it took the sacrifice of countless people – known and unknown – to see the dawn of a new day. Michelle and I are the beneficiaries of that struggle. But in America and South Africa, and countries around the globe, we cannot allow our progress to cloud the fact that our work is not done. The struggles that follow the victory of formal equality and universal franchise may not be as filled with drama and moral clarity as those that came before, but they are no less important. For around the world today, we still see children suffering from hunger, and disease; run-down schools, and few prospects for the future. Around the world today, men and women are still imprisoned for their political beliefs; and are still persecuted for what they look like, or how they worship, or who they love.
We, too, must act on behalf of justice. We, too, must act on behalf of peace. There are too many of us who happily embrace Madiba’s legacy of racial reconciliation, but passionately resist even modest reforms that would challenge chronic poverty and growing inequality. There are too many leaders who claim solidarity with Madiba’s struggle for freedom, but do not tolerate dissent from their own people. And there are too many of us who stand on the sidelines, comfortable in complacency or cynicism when our voices must be heard.
The questions we face today – how to promote equality and justice; to uphold freedom and human rights; to end conflict and sectarian war – do not have easy answers. But there were no easy answers in front of that child in Qunu. Nelson Mandela reminds us that it always seems impossible until it is done. South Africa shows us that is true. South Africa shows us we can change. We can choose to live in a world defined not by our differences, but by our common hopes. We can choose a world defined not by conflict, but by peace and justice and opportunity.
We will never see the likes of Nelson Mandela again. But let me say to the young people of Africa, and young people around the world – you can make his life’s work your own. Over thirty years ago, while still a student, I learned of Mandela and the struggles in this land. It stirred something in me. It woke me up to my responsibilities – to others, and to myself – and set me on an improbable journey that finds me here today. And while I will always fall short of Madiba’s example, he makes me want to be better. He speaks to what is best inside us. After this great liberator is laid to rest; when we have returned to our cities and villages, and rejoined our daily routines, let us search then for his strength – for his largeness of spirit – somewhere inside ourselves. And when the night grows dark, when injustice weighs heavy on our hearts, or our best laid plans seem beyond our reach – think of Madiba, and the words that brought him comfort within the four walls of a cell:
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
What a great soul it was. We will miss him deeply. May God bless the memory of Nelson Mandela. May God bless the people of South Africa.
Source: Mail & Guardian
It is hard to eulogise any man – to capture in words not just the facts and the dates that make a life, but the essential truth of a person – their private joys and sorrows; the quiet moments and unique qualities that illuminate someone’s soul. How much harder to do so for a giant of history, who moved a nation toward justice, and in the process moved billions around the world.
Born during World War I, far from the corridors of power, a boy raised herding cattle and tutored by elders of his Thembu tribe – Madiba would emerge as the last great liberator of the 20th century. Like Gandhi, he would lead a resistance movement – a movement that at its start held little prospect of success. Like King, he would give potent voice to the claims of the oppressed, and the moral necessity of racial justice. He would endure a brutal imprisonment that began in the time of Kennedy and Khrushchev, and reached the final days of the Cold War. Emerging from prison, without force of arms, he would – like Lincoln – hold his country together when it threatened to break apart. Like America's founding fathers, he would erect a constitutional order to preserve freedom for future generations - a commitment to democracy and rule of law ratified not only by his election, but by his willingness to step down from power.
Given the sweep of his life, and the adoration that he so rightly earned, it is tempting then to remember Nelson Mandela as an icon, smiling and serene, detached from the tawdry affairs of lesser men. But Madiba himself strongly resisted such a lifeless portrait. Instead, he insisted on sharing with us his doubts and fears; his miscalculations along with his victories. "I'm not a saint," he said, "unless you think of a saint as a sinner who keeps on trying."
It was precisely because he could admit to imperfection – because he could be so full of good humor, even mischief, despite the heavy burdens he carried - that we loved him so. He was not a bust made of marble; he was a man of flesh and blood – a son and husband, a father and a friend. That is why we learned so much from him; that is why we can learn from him still. For nothing he achieved was inevitable. In the arc of his life, we see a man who earned his place in history through struggle and shrewdness; persistence and faith. He tells us what’s possible not just in the pages of dusty history books, but in our own lives as well.
Mandela showed us the power of action; of taking risks on behalf of our ideals. Perhaps Madiba was right that he inherited, "a proud rebelliousness, a stubborn sense of fairness" from his father. Certainly he shared with millions of black and colored South Africans the anger born of, "a thousand slights, a thousand indignities, a thousand unremembered moments … a desire to fight the system that imprisoned my people."
But like other early giants of the ANC – the Sisulus and Tambos – Madiba disciplined his anger; and channelled his desire to fight into organisation, and platforms, and strategies for action, so men and women could stand-up for their dignity. Moreover, he accepted the consequences of his actions, knowing that standing up to powerful interests and injustice carries a price. "I have fought against white domination and I have fought against black domination," he said at his 1964 trial. "I’ve cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die."
Mandela taught us the power of action, but also ideas; the importance of reason and arguments; the need to study not only those you agree with, but those who you don’t. He understood that ideas cannot be contained by prison walls, or extinguished by a sniper’s bullet. He turned his trial into an indictment of apartheid because of his eloquence and passion, but also his training as an advocate. He used decades in prison to sharpen his arguments, but also to spread his thirst for knowledge to others in the movement. And he learned the language and customs of his oppressor so that one day he might better convey to them how their own freedom depended upon his.
Mandela demonstrated that action and ideas are not enough; no matter how right, they must be chiseled into laws and institutions. He was practical, testing his beliefs against the hard surface of circumstance and history. On core principles he was unyielding, which is why he could rebuff offers of conditional release, reminding the Apartheid regime that, "prisoners cannot enter into contracts." But as he showed in painstaking negotiations to transfer power and draft new laws, he was not afraid to compromise for the sake of a larger goal. And because he was not only a leader of a movement, but a skillful politician, the Constitution that emerged was worthy of this multiracial democracy; true to his vision of laws that protect minority as well as majority rights, and the precious freedoms of every South African.
Finally, Mandela understood the ties that bind the human spirit. There is a word in South Africa – Ubuntu – that describes his greatest gift: his recognition that we are all bound together in ways that can be invisible to the eye; that there is a oneness to humanity; that we achieve ourselves by sharing ourselves with others, and caring for those around us. We can never know how much of this was innate in him, or how much of it was shaped and burnished in a dark, solitary cell. But we remember the gestures, large and small – introducing his jailors as honoured guests at his inauguration; taking the pitch in a Springbok uniform; turning his family’s heartbreak into a call to confront HIV and Aids – that revealed the depth of his empathy and understanding. He not only embodied Ubuntu; he taught millions to find that truth within themselves. It took a man like Madiba to free not just the prisoner, but the jailor as well; to show that you must trust others so that they may trust you; to teach that reconciliation is not a matter of ignoring a cruel past, but a means of confronting it with inclusion, generosity and truth. He changed laws, but also hearts.
For the people of South Africa, for those he inspired around the globe – Madiba’s passing is rightly a time of mourning, and a time to celebrate his heroic life. But I believe it should also prompt in each of us a time for self-reflection. With honesty, regardless of our station or circumstance, we must ask: how well have I applied his lessons in my own life?
It is a question I ask myself – as a man and as a president. We know that like South Africa, the United States had to overcome centuries of racial subjugation. As was true here, it took the sacrifice of countless people – known and unknown – to see the dawn of a new day. Michelle and I are the beneficiaries of that struggle. But in America and South Africa, and countries around the globe, we cannot allow our progress to cloud the fact that our work is not done. The struggles that follow the victory of formal equality and universal franchise may not be as filled with drama and moral clarity as those that came before, but they are no less important. For around the world today, we still see children suffering from hunger, and disease; run-down schools, and few prospects for the future. Around the world today, men and women are still imprisoned for their political beliefs; and are still persecuted for what they look like, or how they worship, or who they love.
We, too, must act on behalf of justice. We, too, must act on behalf of peace. There are too many of us who happily embrace Madiba’s legacy of racial reconciliation, but passionately resist even modest reforms that would challenge chronic poverty and growing inequality. There are too many leaders who claim solidarity with Madiba’s struggle for freedom, but do not tolerate dissent from their own people. And there are too many of us who stand on the sidelines, comfortable in complacency or cynicism when our voices must be heard.
The questions we face today – how to promote equality and justice; to uphold freedom and human rights; to end conflict and sectarian war – do not have easy answers. But there were no easy answers in front of that child in Qunu. Nelson Mandela reminds us that it always seems impossible until it is done. South Africa shows us that is true. South Africa shows us we can change. We can choose to live in a world defined not by our differences, but by our common hopes. We can choose a world defined not by conflict, but by peace and justice and opportunity.
We will never see the likes of Nelson Mandela again. But let me say to the young people of Africa, and young people around the world – you can make his life’s work your own. Over thirty years ago, while still a student, I learned of Mandela and the struggles in this land. It stirred something in me. It woke me up to my responsibilities – to others, and to myself – and set me on an improbable journey that finds me here today. And while I will always fall short of Madiba’s example, he makes me want to be better. He speaks to what is best inside us. After this great liberator is laid to rest; when we have returned to our cities and villages, and rejoined our daily routines, let us search then for his strength – for his largeness of spirit – somewhere inside ourselves. And when the night grows dark, when injustice weighs heavy on our hearts, or our best laid plans seem beyond our reach – think of Madiba, and the words that brought him comfort within the four walls of a cell:
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
What a great soul it was. We will miss him deeply. May God bless the memory of Nelson Mandela. May God bless the people of South Africa.
Source: Mail & Guardian
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
South Africans losing trust in political and business ethics
According to research by Transparency International, South Africa is perceived as being more corrupt this year than it was last year.
What is considerably alarming is that 50% of persons interviewed perceived the judiciary as corrupt; 70% perceived parliament as corrupt and a staggering 83% perceived the South African Police Service as corrupt.
In a statement on Tuesday, local civil society organization Corruption Watch (CW) said the perceptions were indicative of a public that was losing trust in political, public, and business leadership.
Source: the Sowetan
Monday, December 2, 2013
Mdluli wins bid to appeal charges ruling
Suspended police crime intelligence head Richard Mdluli, the National Prosecuting Authority and the Specialised Commercial Crime Unit may appeal against a ruling that charges against him must be reinstated, the high court in Pretoria ruled on Monday.
Freedom Under Law (FUL) did not oppose the application, and said the matter concerned issues of significant public importance which ought to be aired in the Supreme Court of Appeal.
An application by the public interest group to revive a previous interim interdict stopping Mdluli from returning to work would continue only at a later stage.
National police commissioner Riah Phiyega has agreed to give the FUL 30 days' notice if she wants to reinstate Mdluli.
The FUL said it reserved its rights to approach the court again.
Deputy Judge President of the high courts in Johannesburg and Pretoria Aubrey Ledwaba granted leave to appeal against Judge John Murphy's ruling in September in favour of the FUL.
Decision set aside
Murphy had set aside decisions to withdraw charges of money laundering and murder, and disciplinary proceedings, against Mdluli.
Ledwaba said there were compelling reasons to grant leave, and there was a reasonable prospect that another court might come to a different conclusion.
Considering the importance and complexity of the issues, the Supreme Court of Appeal in Bloemfontein would be the correct court to deal with the matter.
Ledwaba said Murphy was not available to hear the application. The application for leave to appeal began before Murphy in October, but due to "some unfortunate altercation" between him and William Mokhari SC, Ledwaba intervened and postponed the matter indefinitely.
The altercation started when Mokhari, who represented the police commissioner, told Murphy it was presumptuous to ask if Phiyega intended reinstating Mdluli.
Murphy repeatedly told Mokhari to sit down and when he refused, Murphy walked out of the court. Mokhari, who is the chairperson of the Johannesburg Bar Council, has since laid a formal complaint about the judge's "demeaning" remarks with the Judicial Service Commission. – Sapa
Freedom Under Law (FUL) did not oppose the application, and said the matter concerned issues of significant public importance which ought to be aired in the Supreme Court of Appeal.
An application by the public interest group to revive a previous interim interdict stopping Mdluli from returning to work would continue only at a later stage.
National police commissioner Riah Phiyega has agreed to give the FUL 30 days' notice if she wants to reinstate Mdluli.
The FUL said it reserved its rights to approach the court again.
Deputy Judge President of the high courts in Johannesburg and Pretoria Aubrey Ledwaba granted leave to appeal against Judge John Murphy's ruling in September in favour of the FUL.
Decision set aside
Murphy had set aside decisions to withdraw charges of money laundering and murder, and disciplinary proceedings, against Mdluli.
Ledwaba said there were compelling reasons to grant leave, and there was a reasonable prospect that another court might come to a different conclusion.
Considering the importance and complexity of the issues, the Supreme Court of Appeal in Bloemfontein would be the correct court to deal with the matter.
Ledwaba said Murphy was not available to hear the application. The application for leave to appeal began before Murphy in October, but due to "some unfortunate altercation" between him and William Mokhari SC, Ledwaba intervened and postponed the matter indefinitely.
The altercation started when Mokhari, who represented the police commissioner, told Murphy it was presumptuous to ask if Phiyega intended reinstating Mdluli.
Murphy repeatedly told Mokhari to sit down and when he refused, Murphy walked out of the court. Mokhari, who is the chairperson of the Johannesburg Bar Council, has since laid a formal complaint about the judge's "demeaning" remarks with the Judicial Service Commission. – Sapa
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