Keypoints:
- Constitution guided CJ’s removal process
- No evidence of presidential overreach
- Committee decision bound Mahama’s action
THE removal of Ghana’s Chief Justice, Gertrude Araba Esaaba Torkonoo, has ignited fierce debate. For some, the decision is a triumph of constitutional process; for others, it risks eroding judicial independence. Yet what is indisputable is that the 1992 Constitution provided the framework, the committee delivered the verdict, and the president had no legal option but to act.
President John Mahama announced Torkonoo’s removal immediately after receiving the report of the committee established under article 146. Government spokespeople insist that the dismissal was neither political nor discretionary, but rather a matter of constitutional duty.
Felix Kwakye Ofosu, Minister of State in charge of Government Communication, captured the official stance succinctly: ‘The president has adhered to constitutional tenets and acted entirely in consonance with the law. We have arrived at this juncture not because of what the president personally believes, but because of what the constitution prescribes.’
How the process unfolded
The controversy began when three petitions were filed earlier this year, one of them by Ghanaian citizen Daniel Ofori. The allegations centred on ‘stated misbehaviour’, one of the explicit grounds for removal under article 146(1).
Following procedure, the president—acting with the Council of State—appointed a five-member committee to investigate. Its chair was Justice Gabriel Scott-Pwamang of the Supreme Court. Other members included Justice Samuel Kwame Adu, former Auditor-General Daniel Yao Domelevo, Ghana Armed Forces officer Major Flora Daluwo, and University of Ghana academic Professor James Sefa-Gbisa.
The committee sat in camera, as the constitution requires, but both the petitioner and the Chief Justice were represented by lawyers and had the opportunity to call witnesses. Over several months, the panel heard testimony, reviewed expert evidence and examined thousands of pages of documents.
When its report was finally delivered to Jubilee House (the presidency), the findings were unequivocal: grounds of misbehaviour had been established, and removal was recommended.
From that point, the constitution was clear. Under article 146(9), the president is bound to act in line with the committee’s recommendation. As Kwakye Ofosu noted, ‘The president cannot take a position either in favour of or against the recommendation. Once it is clearly written in black and white, action must be taken.’
Swiftness versus suspicion
If the law is straightforward, politics rarely is. The announcement of Torkonoo’s removal came just hours after the committee presented its report on Monday, September 1. For critics, including former deputy attorney general Joseph Kpemka, the speed looked suspiciously like confirmation of a pre-planned outcome.
Panka warned that the constitution could be exploited for ‘mischief’ if governments use it to sideline inconvenient judicial leaders.
But the government rejected that reading. Kwakye Ofosu was blunt: ‘How can upholding the constitution of Ghana be referred to as mischievous? This law has always been there. In fact, aspects of the law were used by Mr Kpemka’s own government to remove the chairperson of the electoral commission.’
To officials, speed reflected efficiency, not conspiracy. ‘It does not take forever to draft a letter or prepare a warrant. There is really no issue of expedited action,’ the minister said.
A legal duty, not a political option
Prominent legal voices have backed the government’s position. Kwaku Ansa-Asare, former director of the Ghana Law School, described the removal as the inevitable consequence of the committee’s verdict.
‘Article 146(6) and (7) clearly state that the committee shall investigate and recommend to the president whether the Chief Justice should be removed. Once removal is recommended, the president has no choice. He cannot do otherwise,’ Ansa-Asare said.
He also dismissed suggestions of political predetermination: ‘The swiftness with which the president acted should not be misconstrued as a foregone conclusion. It simply shows decisiveness. The president is working, not sleeping on the job.’
Torkonoo’s own posture
While many have defended the legality of the process, some analysts argue that Justice Torkonoo’s handling of the inquiry weakened her position.
Ansa-Asare noted that her confrontational stance—appealing to external bodies such as ECOWAS and challenging the process publicly—did little to bolster her case. ‘The Chief Justice did not give herself much chance to be heard appropriately. That abrasive stance did not help her,’ he said.
As head of the judiciary, he argued, Torkonoo should have understood the removal process more deeply. ‘If you allege that your constitutional rights are being violated, yet as Chief Justice you do not fully grasp the implications of the process, you put yourself at a disadvantage. In that sense, she shot herself in the foot,’ he remarked.
Democracy at work—or judicial vulnerability?
Supporters of the government frame the episode as proof that the constitutional order is robust. ‘We should be happy that the constitution is working,’ Ansa-Asare said. ‘Every step the president has taken is in line with the law. No one has shown otherwise.’
Yet sceptics caution that judicial independence must be protected not only in law but in perception. Even if Mahama acted strictly within the rules, the symbolism of a president removing a chief justice is politically fraught.
The danger is not that this case broke the constitution, but that future governments may be tempted to use the same lawful procedure to settle political scores. Safeguarding against that requires vigilance from civil society, the bar, and parliament.
Pending petitions and unfinished business
Torkonoo’s removal stemmed from one of three petitions. The other two were adjourned at the request of the parties but remain formally unresolved.
Kwakye Ofosu clarified that the committee would determine whether to continue with the outstanding cases: ‘It is up to the committee to decide whether to resume or conclude its work.’
This leaves open the possibility of further turbulence in the judiciary, depending on how those petitions are handled.
A decisive, if contested, outcome
With the committee’s recommendation in hand, Mahama’s duty was clear, and Torkonoo’s suspension converted into dismissal. The decision took immediate effect, closing one chapter but opening broader questions about the balance between executive duty and judicial independence.
Kwakye Ofosu framed the action as constitutional inevitability: ‘The president has simply complied with the committee’s recommendation as prescribed by law.’
For Ansa-Asare, the lesson is equally stark: ‘The constitution left the president no choice. That is the reality of our democracy.’
Whether Ghanaians view the removal as constitutional fidelity or political expediency, it stands as a vivid reminder that in Ghana’s democracy, the law is not optional—even when it touches the highest office in the judiciary.
