Thoughts on "When Law Becomes a Tool for Authoritarianism"
I went to law school as a Marxist, I believed that the law was merely a tool of the ruling classes. For many today, "here comes the law" doesn't signify justice but fear. The goddess Justice may wear her blindfold, but her left hand seems empty—no scales, just the sword ready to strike.
History confirms this experience. The rule of law has coexisted with centuries of injustice—upholding slavery, denying women rights, sanctioning the cruelest executions. Law alone never guaranteed justice.
Yet over time, my perspective shifted. I began to see that when other institutions fail, when norms collapse, when leaders lie—sometimes only the law keeps a window open, a door unlocked, a record of truth. But that's all it does. The rule of law at its core is merely a procedural system, demanding consistency regardless of time or persons involved. The blindfold of the goddess indicates that. That is not justice yet.
Law can serve any purpose—from advancing civil rights to enforcing apartheid—provided proper procedures are followed. What I failed to see in law school is the fundamental truth: The law is neutral. Power—the sword of the goddess—too, is just a tool. But justice requires moral judgment, what is right, what is fair, what is humane. Legal professionals must have the backbone to face this obligation.
That is the scale the goddess holds in her left hand. That's why we surrender the power of judgement to the judiciary.
Consider what happened just a few months ago: On April 7, 2025, in Trump v. J.G.G., the Supreme Court "vacated" (overturned) a local judge’s order to stop hundreds of deportations into a notorious Salvadoran prison without any due process. The deportation was justified under the thin cover of the "Alien Enemies Act," as if alleged gang members were part of an enemy “invasion”. The Court refused to rip apart that cover. Instead it found that the attorneys had filed "in the wrong forum" (NY) instead of "the district of confinement" (TX). But, we know that the authorities had deliberately moved the men from NY to TX to evade review.
Justice denied on procedural technicalities—it makes me sick. I cannot forget similar decisions in Nazi Germany: a Jewish family evicted for "disturbance of the peace"—the disturbance being their Jewishness, which "necessitated" noisy police raids and arrests.
Yet twelve days later, the Court showed what moral courage can do. In a striking reversal, the justices issued an emergency stay at 1 a.m. on a Saturday morning, halting further deportations from Texas detention centers. This second ruling reflected awareness of the real-world consequences—particularly the speed and scale of deportations without due process. The Court was forced and able to recognize when stakes escalate beyond procedure into fundamental due process human rights.
The terrible misuse of the justice system happened in Germany, as my great-uncle Professor Gerhard Anschütz witnessed. A constitutional scholar, he believed laws passed properly were legitimate—even as Hitler legally ascended to power. Only when the Third Reich replaced the Weimar Republic did he resign.
In America today, as a president tries to seize unchecked power, we watch our Constitution bend under formality.
This is what my great-uncle faced. What judges in Poland confronted when resisting judicial takeover for eight years. What we may face ourselves, especially if working in a legal profession.
We must draw inspiration from those who refuse to submit. Let us loudly thank the judges, lawyers, and others who in increasing numbers are asserting their moral courage in spite of threats and monetary, sometimes even physical danger.
These moments don’t come often in a lifetime. We must make the same choice: to see, to speak, to resist. Because once the sword is in the wrong hands, no scale remains to balance it. My great-uncle missed his moment.