The verdict and sentence delivered on Saddam Hussein yesterday has, predictably, polarised Iraqis. Those who suffered the most under his brutal rule, notably the Shia and Kurdish communities, would assert that the proposed punishment entirely fits his crimes. In this, they would be joined by citizens in Kuwait and Iran who also endured terrible losses at his hands. The Sunni minority is more inclined to view the event as a political rather than a judicial development. It may serve to add to their resentment that they no longer exercise the influence in Iraq that they did when the Baathists held sway.

Yet even here, few would deny that Saddam was responsible for the deeds of which he was accused — ordering the deaths of 148 Shia in the village of Dujail in 1982 to avenge an alleged assassination scheme against him. The ousted dictator scarcely contested the facts of the case asserting instead the l’etat c’est moi defence that anything he perceived to be a threat to him personally as head of state was an attack on the country itself and entitled to be treated with whatever retribution that he deemed fit to deliver. His guilt over these atrocities cannot be disputed.

That this is so is a tribute to court officials who had to conduct this case in exceptionally difficult conditions. It was emphatically not a show trial or a kangaroo court experience. Evidence was carefully assembled and, while the process had inevitable imperfections, Saddam and the other seven men in the dock had the opportunity to rebut what was placed in front of them. The sentences awarded carefully distinguished between the roles played by the defendants 24 years ago (and one of the accused was acquitted). The former strongman alternated between denying the legitimacy of the court and dismissing the relevance of the charges. It was a defiant stance but not one that should elicit any sympathy. This should be reserved for his victims.

And there were many of them. Saddam has, rightly, an automatic right of appeal but there is flexibility in how long that procedure will take. It should certainly not be conducted hastily. The surreal notion of Saddam as some sort of martyr or victim would obtain utterly unwarranted traction if there appeared to be an unseemly rush to push him towards the gallows. Furthermore, he is currently on trial for offences he is accused of committing against Kurds in the so-called Anfal case.

It is important that this trial runs its full course. That is partly because the Kurds are entitled to have their torment recorded in a court of law as well, but also because there are co-defendants alongside Saddam accused of carrying out his orders. To remove him from the scene before a verdict could be reached here would make it extremely hard to assign responsibility in a fair and reasonable fashion.

What happens when all the judicial proceedings have concluded is largely for Iraqis and not outsiders. The death penalty has been abolished throughout Western Europe, so there will be understandable distaste at its use even when the person concerned is Saddam. There is a strong argument that imprisoning, for the rest of his days, a person who imposed himself on a people as their master would be a better signal for a new Iraq to send than an execution. Iraqi justice, through its appeals procedure and the authority to commute death sentences granted to its most senior politicians, will come to a final decision. It will do in a manner unimaginable in Saddam’s tenure.