Prisons, football and justice

Stephen Vasciannie

LAST WEEK, the Jamaican society continued to throw up issues concerning what it means to be just to fellow human beings. Naturally, the first point of business in this regard was about what Dr. Notice noticed. For, coming out of Dr. Notice's observations at the St. Catherine District Prison, we have all had to wonder whether there are any grounds for the denial of elementary standards of justice and humanity at our penal institutions.

Naturally, there were some Jamaicans who adhered to the view that prisoners should be given rough treatment because, by definition, prison should be a place for both incarceration and State brutality. Happily, however, this view has not gained ascendancy (at least not in the media): expressions of shock and outrage at the treatment meted out to over 200 inmates at the St. Catherine prison provide evidence that at least some Jamaicans retain their sense of decency, humanity and justice in these difficult times.

To be fair, however, the perspective of the soldiers and warders at the prison has not been fully aired in public. One gathers, for instance, that some of those accused of beating or torturing prisons were prompted by an attack by certain prisoners. In this attack, it is said, a group of prisoners threw substantial deposits of three-day old faeces on to warders and soldiers; and, in response to this, the law officers resorted to violent reprisals.

Assume, for the sake of argument, that the foregoing scenario is true. Does a disgusting faecal attack by prison inmates justify the kind of retaliation that appears to have occurred in the prisons? And would the beatings be justified if, in addition to the original attack, the prisoners also refused to come out of their cells?

For me, these are relatively easy questions. If they did occur, in fact, the actions of the inmates were reprehensible and clearly unsupportable. At the same time, however, they would not, in my view, have established the foundation for brutal retaliation by officers of the State.

In the first place, it was always open to the soldiers and warders to have further criminal charges brought against inmates suspected of the nastiness mentioned: from all accounts, there was no real risk of escape by the inmates, so the law officers could simply have insisted upon the application of law to the circumstances. And, secondly, if the beatings were prompted by the faecal attack, one could hardly argue that this was a case of self-defence by the law officers: nauseating, yes, but not quite life-threatening.

Another aspect of justice which arises in the case of the St. Catherine prison concerns the Government's decision to institute an inquiry into the matter. This is an appropriate response and, indeed, had it not been made, there are many (including myself) who would have called for an inquiry as a means of ascertaining truth. But the ironies should not escape us.

Remember, for instance, that not so long ago senior representatives of the Government told us that there should not be a Montego Bay Street People Enquiry because enquiries ought not to be held while criminal charges are pending. Well, now we know. Criminal charges are almost certainly (and correctly) to be brought against some of the law officers at St. Catherine District Prison, and yet, the Government has set up an enquiry. One more governmental canard laid bare.

And, while I am on this point, could someone in Government kindly explain the criteria for establishing Commissions of Enquiry?

The prison beatings are, of course, scandalous; but, is there a basis for having this enquiry, and yet, close one's eyes to the need for an enquiry into the 1997 killings in Tivoli. If we believe in justice, we cannot compartmentalise incidents to suit our political tastes.

Jamie Lawrence

Another matter which raised important questions of justice last week concerned the case of Jamie Lawrence, the prospective Reggae Boy. Mr. Lawrence, a 30-year old footballer resident in England, was invited by the Jamaica Football Federation (JFF) to join the Jamaican football squad for an upcoming tour of duty. After issuing the invitation, however, the JFF discovered that Mr. Lawrence had a criminal record and prison time (for robbery), and so, the JFF immediately dropped Mr. Lawrence.

In explaining its decision, the JFF, through Captain Burrell, indicated that: "It is the policy of the Jamaica Federation that if anyone connected to the sport is convicted of a criminal offence, he or she can no longer represent Jamaica at football". The JFF also referred to the case of Mr. Winston Anglin who was dropped from the Jamaican team upon his conviction for drug smuggling.

The position of the JFF seems quite unsustainable to me. For one thing, Mr. Lawrence has served the time, and paid the price for his crimes. He is now a free member of society and there seems to be no rational basis to ostracise him today, as if he had not served his sentence. For another, Mr. Lawrence's past misdeeds do not prompt reasonable fears that he will be a disruptive force within the Jamaican team: some may be inclined to say once a thief always a thief, but remember that Mr. Lawrence has played professional football since leaving prison, with no reported problems.

Furthermore, the Anglin precedent is not really on point. Anglin was a member of the Jamaican squad at the time he was caught smuggling drugs, while Lawrence was certainly not even within the dreams of Captain Burrell when he (Lawrence) turned to robbery in England. So, though one may have felt that Jamaica's good name was tarnished by Anglin's actions, this is not so in Lawrence's case.

It is not enough for the JFF to say that the policy is to omit persons with criminal records. This kind of ex cathedra pronouncement gives no indication as to the basis of the policy: is this meant to serve the interests of justice? Fairplay? Social upliftment? What, precisely, is this policy meant to achieve? Malcolm X and others in the Diaspora were able to turn from early lives of crime to some level of achievement; they stand as evidence of the powers of redemption. The JFF has unreasonably turned its back on this prospect in the case of Jamie Lawrence.

Finally, consider the pain caused to Mr. Lawrence by the bungling of the JFF. Mr. Lawrence did not select himself; he was asked to do national duty. And then, because someone at the JFF failed to make the necessary checks, Mr. Lawrence now has his past dragged before Jamaica, and is publicly disgraced by the JFF ­ which has, in effect, said that Mr. Lawrence is still a suspect, if not a robber. This cannot be just.

Ironically, Mr. Lawrence learnt to play football while he was incarcerated. What skill, I wonder, does the typical inmate at St. Catherine District Prison acquire during his detention in our local hell-holes of shame and destruction?

Stephen Vasciannie, an attorney-at-law, teaches at the UWI, Mona.

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