The murder of ten-year-old Sara Sharif by her father and stepmother was shocking and unbelievable.

Post-mortem examinations revealed that she had suffered more than 70 injuries before her death. Her body was covered in bruises. She had a traumatic head injury, human bite marks and many broken bones. She had been burned by a domestic iron.

Six weeks ago Urfan Sharif and his wife Beinash Batool were sentenced to life imprisonment with minimum terms of 40 and 33 years respectively. Sara’s uncle, Faisal Malik, was sentenced to 16 years for causing or allowing the death of a child.

Truly a hideous crime, but this wasn’t the end of the matter for the media. Sharif had previously been accused of violence against three ex-partners and two children, including his own, and social services had been involved many times.

At a hearing in 2019 Sara was entrusted by a Family Court judge to the brutal care of her father and stepmother despite the objections of her mother, Olga Domin.

Why was that allowed despite past allegations of abuse against Sharif? Were the authorities gravely at fault for letting the little girl live with her father?

Something extraordinary happened after the sentencing. Sara’s murder turned into an historic stand-off between the free Press and the famously secretive Family Court.

The media wanted to report earlier cases relating to Sara. Yet to widespread astonishment they were informed in December by Mr Justice Williams that none of the professionals involved, including three judges, could be identified because of ‘real risk’ of harm to them from a ‘virtual lynch mob’.

He had another justification – and to my mind an outrageous one – for withholding names. In his view the media couldn’t be ‘trusted to report fairly’.

It’s not unusual in the Family Court for the names of social workers in abuse cases to be redacted. But never before in English legal history had the name of a judge been anonymised. There is an ancient principle that justice must be seen to be done. How is that possible if we don’t know who the judge is?

Media outlets including the Mail applied to the Appeal Court, which wisely ruled last week that the three judges concerned (of whom one is of paramount importance) could be identified. Yesterday their names were published.

The crucial judge is Alison Raeside, who presided in numerous hearings to do with Sara, including the one in 2019 that I have mentioned. The two other judges, now retired, were tangentially and seemingly blamelessly involved. I’ll return to Judge Raeside in a minute.

The Appeal Court is obviously to be congratulated for upholding the rights of the media and bearing down on secret justice. Its judgment against Mr Justice Williams was scathing.

Sir Geoffrey Vos said that the High Court judge had ‘got carried away’ and ‘lost sight of the importance of Press scrutiny in the integrity of the justice system’. Apart from declaring the media untrustworthy, Mr Justice Williams had cited a couple of personal instances when he had been supposedly let down by the Fourth Estate.

So three cheers for the Appeal Court. However, we can’t let Mr Justice Williams off the hook. I say this while recognising that judges can’t answer criticism of their actions. Yet if you write off the Press, and do something never done before in legal history, you must expect a response.

In his partial defence, he probably knew that Her Honour Alison Raeside had previously been stalked by a disgruntled father in a separate Family Court case. Mr Justice Williams may have had chivalrous motives in trying to keep her name out of the Press.

But, as Sir Geoffrey Vos pointed out, ‘judges will sit on many types of case in which feelings run high, and where there may be risks to their personal safety’. It is the duty of the authorities ‘to put appropriate measures in place to meet these risks’.

Judge Raeside presided at that crucial 2019 hearing when Sara was handed over to her evil father and stepmother. In fact, she praised Batool for taking on Sara and her siblings, and was hoodwinked by her and Sharif into finding fault with the girl’s mother.

I realise it’s easy to criticise with the benefit of hindsight. We may conclude that Judge Raeside was credulous, naive and even careless. Or we might just say that she was manipulated by a very persuasive couple.

Whatever our view, we are entitled to know the name of the judge dispensing justice. Mr Justice Williams denied us that right. Some will think that he wanted to protect his colleague from scrutiny.

His assertion that the media aren’t to be trusted seems to me more political than judicial. I was amused, though not surprised, to learn that in 2015, two years before

being appointed to the High Court, he stood as a Labour parliamentary candidate in Wycombe, coming second to a Tory.

The future judge certainly wasn’t shy about expressing his political views, which may be to the Left of Sir Keir Starmer’s current ones. He said on the hustings that ‘the European Union is very good for us’ and ‘the reality is that immigration is good for us’.

My worry, notwithstanding that the Appeal Court rode to the rescue of open justice, is that there are other senior judges with prejudices against a free Press, and even contempt for it. Doesn’t the extension of privacy law under the aegis of Article Eight of the Human Rights Act imply as much?

Admittedly, attempts have been made to open up the mysterious workings of the Family Court. 

From this week journalists will be allowed to report on what they see and hear, if a transparency order is granted – possibly a big ‘if’. There’s some way to go, if Mr Justice Williams is typical.

Looking back at Sara Sharif’s short and tragic life, it’s incontestable that she was failed by the system – by social workers, police, teachers and, yes, by judges.

The best way of ensuring that history won’t repeat itself is to understand the past. That objective can’t be served by shoving the name of a judge under the carpet.