The Little Court – Folha de S. Paulo, January 24, 1971

by Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira

Readers who want to understand the subject I am about to discuss accurately should temporarily set aside broader issues and focus on the small, concrete world of their daily lives.

Imagine a group of 200 people, including those who live in your home and nearby. In a large city, such a group might be spread over a block or two. In neighborhoods with numerous apartment buildings, 200 residents are naturally dispersed over a larger area.

Imagine that each of these areas—regardless of size—is turned into a small republic with clear borders, governed by its own authorities. These authorities are tasked with actively intervening in everyone’s lives and deciding even the most minor details of daily life.

Let me give an example. Is there a minor dispute between families? The matter can be taken to the court of the “mini-state” to decide who is right and punish the guilty party. Is there a water problem between neighbors? Once again, the “mini-state” court is called upon to determine who is right and impose penalties on the responsible party. A boy makes noise in the street, which is—or some oversensitive resident considers—excessive. The little court comes into play again to determine who is right, and, depending on the case, to punish the boy and his parents. Is someone suspected of drinking too much? Off to the little court they go. Are there whispers in the neighborhood that the father or mother has abandoned the home? The little court immediately intervenes to investigate the fact, determine who is at fault, punish the offender, and find a better home for the children. In short, for any rumor, quarrel, or nonsense, the little court is there, ready to act.

What penalties should be applied to those who commit these types of crimes, such as letting water run into a neighbor’s yard? Usually, minor penalties are sufficient. A fine based on the offender’s income or light forced labor, which is more humiliating than exhausting. For example, sweeping the streets for three consecutive Sundays, tidying up public gardens, or working as a night watchman. The goal is to bother the offender, tire him out, and make it clear to his neighbors—who will be surprised to see him suddenly transformed into a street sweeper, gardener, or night watchman—that the small court has punished him.

Of course, the days when dogs were tied up with sausage are long gone. Because of that, not all penalties imposed by these small courts will be so lenient. On days when the members of these tiny courts feel crankier, they might also send the defendant to an agricultural colony to perform hard rural work. However, not all penalties will probably be like this…

* * *

Of course, even a small court needs a registry office. Courts and registry offices can’t operate without staff. And all of this requires workplaces.

Thus, in each district of 200 residents, some rooms will need to be reserved for these judicial bodies. Citizens should visit this place daily to check for any complaints, whether valid or not, against them. If there are none, thank God! If there are, the accused can start hiring a lawyer, gathering evidence, and so on. Who knows, maybe with just the expenses for the lawyer and the lawsuit, they could spend their Sunday at home without having to sweep the streets.

* * *

How should these courts be organized? In a genuinely democratic way. Down with the strict judges who hold law degrees and form an elite few. Each court should have three members, two of whom are elected. Yes. Elected by the good people from among the same good people. In other words, the selection would be made by popular committees, unions, farmers, and so on. Only the president would hold a bachelor’s degree, and the government would appoint him.

This would simplify things. All anyone needs to do is sincerely earn the good favor of judges and those who choose them to live peacefully.

In an apartment building, for example, it would be quite normal for the caretaker to be elected as the judge of the small community of 200 residents. It would then be enough for the residents to avoid upsetting this influential person, his wife, and their children in any way to ensure their voice in court.

In short, everything can be quickly arranged.

* * *

Now I ask the reader: would you want to live in a republic like this? How would you feel if you lived there? Well-being, security, tranquility, and relief?

I, for one, would feel the exact opposite: like I was suddenly transformed into a 10-year-old child locked up in some correctional facility.

* * *

But you may ask, where is all this nonsense leading? Why imagine all this?

The answer is simple. This is the regime about to be established in Chile. The country will therefore be transformed into a large collection of small republics, each small enough for every citizen to be watched in their every move and persecuted by a barrage of humiliations and petty annoyances if they displease the Communist Party.

I do not claim this is the future of Chile based on vague rumors, but on an interview with Chile’s largest daily newspaper, El Mercurio, by the undersecretary of justice in the Allende government, José A. Vieira Gallo, as well as an interview with Chile’s minister of justice, Lisando Cruz, published in La Prensa in Buenos Aires. The jurist Oscar Alvarez, who advised the minister, explained that “the new courts will hear complaints made by neighbors,” and, as an example, he cited water problems, children causing disturbances in the streets, family quarrels, drunkenness, parents who abandon their homes, and so on. Regarding penalties, he clarified that they will range from a warning to “forced labor,” such as sweeping streets three Sundays in a row, tidying up public gardens, or performing night watch shifts. Additionally, small fines will be imposed, which will be “directly related to the offender’s income” (La Prensa, 1/8/1971).

La Nación, also from Buenos Aires, transcribing the interview, adds a small detail: the punishment from small courts might be a public reprimand—a scolding, essentially, instead of jail. So, reader, what do you prefer? A public scolding? Jail?

* * *

All of this would be tragically funny if it weren’t so utterly tragic. For — I insist — the system will be enforced under a communist regime, by communist judges, and will therefore give the Communist Party the power to intervene at any time in everyone’s homes and private lives, and to crush any citizen refusing to declare themselves an enthusiastic communist. Because nothing is easier than igniting a wave of endless gossip against an individual, using that gossip to build multiple cases against him, and entangling him in legal persecution with no escape.

* * *

I can already hear the croaking of “toadish” wealthy and bilious leftist businessmen objecting: what do we Brazilians have to do with Chile?

Nothing, except for this “little” thing: Christian solidarity. However, I am not giving this answer to the “toad,” who wouldn’t understand it.

So I respond in different terms. The supporters of these popular tribunals swarm in Brazil and try to impose them here. They are a large group of Catholic leftists who plot day and night to overthrow authority in the Church, the State, and society, under the guise of human emancipation, fighting paternalism, and so on. They want the shameful system of these small tribunals that reduce every man to the status of a mistreated and persecuted minor.

* * *

I see the “toad” become enraged, blush, and ask me with a sparkling look: “But do they really want that?”

Yes. One of the demands of the famous Comblin manifesto is to abolish regular courts and replace them with people’s courts.

And, as we know, a strong movement supports Father Comblin. There is no other reason for the flawless, consistent, and mysterious safety he enjoys.

* * *

So I ask you, “toad”: Is this problem unique to Chile?

And I challenge you, fanatical anti-“paternalist” Catholic leftists, to answer me: Isn’t Allende’s project wildly “paternalistic”? Then, where is your protest against it?