The facts of the Carlos Ghosn case must now be heard
One of the world’s best-known businessmen has become a fugitive
One of the world’s leading executives evades house arrest and 24-hour surveillance, jumps multimillion dollar bail and takes a private jet to freedom 5,500 miles away. The emerging details of Carlos Ghosn’s dramatic flight from Japan seem tailor-made for a Netflix thriller. Yet the former Nissan-Renault boss’s escape transforms a fallen star of business into one of the world’s most high-profile fugitives. Neither he nor the Japanese legal system come out with much credit.
The flight of a business leader from an impending trial — in a developed democracy — cannot be condoned. Yet there are legitimate questions about Japan’s judicial system and Mr Ghosn’s chances of a fair hearing. His case has already exposed many flaws. Prosecutors enjoy wide-ranging powers to detain suspects until, in many cases, they confess. The 99 per cent-plus conviction rate reflects the fact that prosecutors rarely go to court without an admission of guilt, obscuring deficiencies in building cases.
The charitable explanation is that this is motivated by a Japanese desire to make its courts as efficient as its famous trains. But the judicial system, with its need to balance evidence and make fine judgments on motive and fact, is not a railway.
The former car industry titan also has awkward questions to answer. He alleges Nissan and Japanese officials — fearing he planned to merge the Japanese carmaker with France’s Renault — conspired with prosecutors to bring him down. Some at the company and in government certainly had concerns about his plans for greater integration of the alliance partners. Others feared Mr Ghosn was making himself untouchable, positioning himself to become a hugely well-paid “chairman emeritus” of an enlarged group.
On top of the Japanese charges that he falsified financial statements by understating his pay by more than $80m, Mr Ghosn was accused by the US Securities and Exchange Commission of hiding more than $140m of his pay package. While the Nissan boss neither admitted nor denied any of the SEC’s charges, he agreed in September to pay $1m to settle them. The settlement bans him from senior positions in any US company for 10 years.
Mr Ghosn now plans to tell his story to the media, and has hinted he may attempt to clear his name by seeking a trial in Lebanon. It is unclear, however, whether there is any realistic prospect that such a trial could take place and be conducted in a credible manner.
His flight also takes away a chance for Japan’s judicial system to show, in a case under immense scrutiny, that it can conduct an open and fair trial. The former Nissan boss, unlike most defendants, had not admitted guilt. The spotlight would surely have forced authorities to follow procedures scrupulously, and ensured the judge did not give the benefit of the doubt to prosecutors over any flaws in their case.
Mr Ghosn’s disappearing act might actually harm further chances of reform. The authorities had agreed reluctantly, under external pressure, to grant bail of Y1.5bn ($14m), an unheard-of amount for Japan. They did so despite Nissan’s protestations that its former CEO’s wealth, connections, and penchant for private jets made him a flight risk. Courts may now conclude that decision was mistaken, and keep defendants locked up in future.
The Japanese judiciary should still seek to proceed, if at all possible, with the trial of Nissan and of Greg Kelly, Mr Ghosn’s former aide arrested on financial misconduct charges, which he denies. For all concerned, the best thing is for the facts of this extraordinary case finally to be aired in public.