It is about demonstrating the superiority of the rule of law over the exercise of arbitrary power, writes Chris Stephen
On the face of it, the war crimes case now being prepared against Saddam Hussein looks simple. He is one of the world's worst tyrants, his hands drenched in blood, so finding him guilty should be straightforward. But the reality is that his coming trial is full of pitfalls, made worse by the American decision to keep international courts out of the process.
Saddam's charge sheet is so long it would be ridiculous were it not for the pain and suffering behind each individual accusation.
He stands accused of gassing the Kurds in the north and ethnically cleansing the Marsh Arabs in the south. Then there is the invasion of Kuwait in 1990, and the torture and mistreatment of prisoners of war from the 1990 UN coalition.
Add assassination, torture, murder, imprisonment, the destruction of more than 1,000 villages across Kurdistan and the theft of billions of dollars from the state and you have an open-and-shut case.
At some point, probably in a matter of months, Saddam will go before a special tribunal, convened just two weeks ago. It looks at first glance to be following the lead of The Hague and other war crimes courts. There are the same three basic crimes: genocide, crimes against humanity and violation of the laws and conduct of war.
But look more closely, and the doubts well up. First, the new court has only the most sketchy claim to legitimacy: it was set up not by the Iraqi people, or the UN, but by the Governing Council, whose members are cleared by the US and represent no more than themselves.
A good defence lawyer - presuming Saddam will be granted one - will make mincemeat of this. He will point out that in similar cases, where domestic justice breaks down, the correct route is the UN, not a council imposed by an occupying power.
Then there are the rules themselves. They were published in haste just five days before Saddam was arrested, leading some to think the two events are related. Certainly the 38 articles of the Special Tribunal's statute look to be hastily written. What to make of two articles, for instance, one declaring that foreigners can be invited to serve as judges, another that they cannot.
And further on in the rules comes an admission that some of the crimes in the statute do not correspond to Iraqi law. Again, a canny defence lawyer will hammer at this, saying it breaks a sacred legal tenet which says no one can be tried for offences that were not illegal at the time of the act.
A defence lawyer could also argue that American footprints are all over a rule that exempts coalition soldiers from also facing war crimes charges. This new tribunal, unlike the UN courts, unlike almost any court in the world, excludes foreigners. Only Iraqis can be tried, even for war crimes inside Iraqi territory. As some have already pointed out, bin Laden would be among those exempt from its rulings.
And then comes the final sting in the tail: what happens when Iraq finally gets a constitution and a new government, and that government turns out to be hostile to the United States? Its first act will be to rule this court invalid, and its second may be to let Saddam go free, a problem the UN avoids by jailing war criminals abroad.
The only comparable trial ever attempted is the continuing prosecution of the former Yugoslav president, Mr Slobodan Milosevic, in The Hague, and experience here sends out a grim warning.
Like Saddam, Mr Milosevic faces a long list of charges, 66 in total, spread over three wars. But this list has become a burden, not an asset, as the trial time stretches into years.
Mr Milosevic's prosecutors are just completing their evidence, after nearly two years. He will have two years to give his defence, and then more years will be swallowed up with judgment and appeals. With Saddam, a similar time span is likely, and with similar problems of keeping public attention focused.
Mr Milosevic's trial is made longer still by the former Yugoslav president's ill-health, and this may be worse for Saddam who is older and by all accounts frailer.
And unlike The Hague, this Iraqi court will have few experienced judges to call on. Quite simply, there are no Iraqi judges apart from those tainted by the old system. Instead, the court will fall back on academics and exiles who lack trial experience.
These Iraqi judges will have to be careful. Too heavy-handed, and the case will be written off as a show trial; too light, and the court may be left looking weak and indecisive. And ridicule is one thing the Americans want badly to avoid.
Only the huge experience of the international bench at the Milosevic trial has kept the credibility of the court intact. The Iraqis may not be so lucky.
All of this could have been avoided had the US insisted that the Governing Council turn to the international courts for help.
Apart from The Hague, the UN has war crimes courts operating in Rwanda, Cambodia and Sierra Leone. These courts have had a bumpy ride, but they have learned from their mistakes and have a decade's worth of experience behind them.
But Washington is currently locking horns with the newly-created International Criminal Court, seen by many as the successor to the UN courts because it is the world's first permanent war crimes court.
Washington opposes the ICC and is wary of the UN tribunals because, it says, such courts are beyond the control of individual states and can be the platform for politically-motivated prosecutions. Hence the determination to leave international bodies out of the Iraqi justice process.
But Saddam's trial is about much more than jailing an evil dictator. It is about demonstrating the superiority of the rule of law over the exercise of arbitrary power. Saddam will be jailed and may even hang. But if it happens as a result of a trial that degenerates into a kangaroo court, then a great opportunity to demonstrate the power of justice to the people of Iraq will have been lost.
Chris Stephen is author of a forthcoming book on the Milosevic trial called Judgement Day: The Trial of Slobodan Milosevic, published next year by Grove Atlantic