Book Review
Jailhouse Lawyers: Prisoners Defending Prisoners v. the U.S.A.
by Mumia Abu-Jamal
City Light Books, San Francisco, CA 2009, 251 pages, $16.95
The following book review by Heidi Boghosian appears in the current edition of The Federal Lawyer, January 2010, Vol. 57, No. 1.
In prison, a hierarchy of dangerousness dictates which inmates receive discipline and retaliation from correction officials. If judged by how the rest of society treats them, the most dangerous would seem to include gang members, political prisoners, blacks, gays, and AIDS patients. In fact, however, the quiet bookworms who pour over legal cases and books are most frequently subjected to punitive retaliation. They are the jailhouse lawyers — little known by the American public, but respected and relied on by thousands of other inmates — and now the subject of a long-overdue book by perhaps the world’s best-known death row prisoner.
In the vernacular, the term “jailhouse lawyer” has a derogatory connotation. In Jailhouse Lawyers: Defending Prisoners v. the U.S.A., Mumia-Abu-Jamal demystifies the term, debunks the stereotypes and elevates these individuals to their rightful status as staunch defenders of the Constitution. From his unique vantage point (he has been incarcerated for more than a quarter of a century, most of that on death row) Abu-Jamal aptly humanizes the individuals toiling behind bars to bring cases against enormous institutional, societal and legal obstacles. In this, his sixth book, Abu-Jamal — a member of the literary group PEN — illuminates the often contrasting values motivating so-called street lawyers (such as private criminal defense attorneys and public defenders) and jailhouse lawyers, while he reveals the vagaries of a judicial system that too frequently decides cases not on their legal merits but on the basis of which judge or jury is picked.
Why do prison officials consider jailhouse lawyers dangerous? Abu-Jamal explains:
Few people are better situated than jailhouse lawyers to observe the contradictions in society and, on occasion, to bring them forth into public view. For their services, for protecting the Constitution from violation, their institutional reward is often a bitter consignment to the depths of the hole. The reason is actually quite simple: unlike other groups in prisons, jailhouse lawyers … force prisons to change their formal rules and regulations, especially when they are illogical or downright silly, and for this administrators unleash their disciplinary arsenal with special vehemence.
Jailhouse lawyers advise and assist other inmates on a range of cases and levels — from seeking regress as to prison conditions to counseling others on routine matters — that often reach the U.S. Supreme Court. Many are self-taught or mentored by other jailhouse lawyers. The cases in Jailhouse Lawyers reveal the profound impact that these men and women have had on the legal system and on the lives of others.
Abu-Jamal dedicates a chapter to street lawyers to put criticism of jailhouse lawyers into perspective. He writes, “Most lawyers today resemble the early [Clarence] Darrow, when he was a well-paid advocate of corporations, not the later Darrow, who took up the cases of social and political underdogs.” According to Abu-Jamal, street lawyers, unlike jailhouse lawyers, are officers of the court, and “even those among the most conscientious (like the ACLU), follow their training to acquiesce to, rather than to challenge, the imposition of repressive rules.”
Abu-Jamal’s jailhouse lawyers are clearly of the later Darrow ilk. Clarence Earl Gideon was a homeless 51-year-old with an eighth-grade education who was denied a lawyer when he was tried on charges of breaking and entering a pool hall. In 1962, he filed a writ of certiorari in the U.S. Supreme Court — handwritten with a pencil. A year later, in Gideon v. Wainwright, the Court ruled that the Sixth Amendment right to counsel applied to all criminal cases. Despite the victory, Abu-Jamal notes that “over forty years since Gideon became the ‘law of the land,’ hundreds, if not thousands, of people are still being held in jails and prisons without meaningful access to counsel. … In such a context, we can see why many men and women turn to those imprisoned with themselves to try to find some hope in a den of hopelessness.”
Many jailhouse lawyers have reputations as superior litigators; Richard Mayberry is one of them. He prevailed in Mayberry v. Pennsylvania, 400 U.S. 455 (1971), in which the Supreme Court held that, except when the judge acts instantly, when he or she charges a defendant with contempt of court, due process requires that the defendant be afforded a public trial before a different judge than the one who imposed the contempt charge. (Mayberry argued the case in the lower court but did not argue before the Supreme Court). Abu-Jamal recalls Mayberry’s first case in federal court, U.S. ex. Rel Mayberry v. Myers and Prasse, 225 F. Supp. 752 (E.D. Pa. 1963), in which he won the right to purchase law books, which were considered contraband in 1963, by mail. Abu-Jamal describes Mayberry as a “brilliant and imaginative litigator,” writing that “He is a member of no bar association, he claims no cachet from any school, and yet his work stands as a testament to one man’s power to resist, with intelligence.”
Abu-Jamal cites several other jailhouse lawyers of distinction, including former inmate Paul Wright, founder of Prison Legal News, a monthly award-winning publication providing educational materials for jailhouse lawyers around the country. Another jailhouse lawyer, Rahsaan Brooks-Bey, considers his best victory Brooks v. Andolina, 826 F.2d 1266 (3d Cir. 1987), which enjoined prison officials from punishing and retaliating against inmates for exercising their First Amendment rights. Martin Sostre filed and won several landmark cases, writes Abu-Jamal, including Sostre v. McGinnis, 442 F.2d 178, 189 (2d Cir. 1971), in which the Second Circuit ruled that Sostre, who now lives in Manhattan with his family, had “freedom from discriminatory punishment inflicted solely because of his beliefs, whether religious or secular.”
Abu-Jamal notes the stark contrast between the treatment of jailhouse lawyers and the deference to the lawyers who engage in flagrantly unethical conduct but are not sanctioned; the latter have included a lawyer who cited no legal authorities in his brief, lawyers who came to court with cocaine on their noses, and those “in the throes of a raging mental illness.”
Jailhouse lawyers were dealt a profound setback with passage of the Prison Litigation Reform Act of 1996 (PLRA). Proponents of the legislation argued that litigation by inmates should be curtailed because of their tendency to bring frivolous lawsuits. Abu-Jamal points out the untruth of highly publicized reports of inmates suing over the kind of peanut butter they were given or the color of their towels. The lack of truth in these stories was reported in Prison Legal News in an article by Chief Judge Jon O. Newman of the Second Circuit, outlining his reply to a letter in the New York Times from the attorneys general of four states. (Jon O. Newman, Not All Prisoner Lawsuits Are Frivolous, Prison Legal News, Apr. 1996 at 6.) Judge Newman contrasted the allegations about the prisoners’ suits with the facts of the cases and showed how the attorneys general used lies and misrepresentations to support their arguments. In a telling indictment against the PLRA, Abu-Jamal writes that, if the events of Abu Ghraib prison had occurred in an American penal institution, victims would not be eligible for damages under the PLRA, because the PLRA prohibits recovery for psychological or mental harm or injury.
In spite of the PLRA, jailhouse lawyers continue to work against the odds to help others and to challenge unconstitutional laws. Abu-Jamal tells of Running Bear, who assisted in overturning three death sentences (one of them his own):
He describes “hearing a kid yell up to me that the PA Supreme Court just overturned his capital case based on a brief I wrote” as one of his most treasured memories of his jailhouse lawyering career. “Saving someone’
life via pen and paper is a rewarding and unforgettable experience.”
Running Bear’s words, “rewarding and unforgettable,” may also be used to describe Jailhouse Lawyers. It is a testament to the character of many jailhouse lawyers, who, when treated with disdain or worse, quietly persist in reading, analyzing, writing, and fighting to do what is right — doing justice.