Policing, Race and Racism

Mike Rowe

• Publisher: Willan
• Year: 2012
• eBook ISBN: 9781135996505
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Criminology
• Index: Social Sciences

Over recent years race has become one of the most important issues faced by the police. This book seeks to analyse the context and background to these changes, to assess the impact of the Lawrence Inquiry and the MacPherson Report, and to trace the growing emphasis on policing as an 'antiracist' activity, proactively confronting racism in both crime and non-crime situations. Whilst this change has not been wholly or consistently applied, it does represent an important change in the discourse that surrounds police relations with the public since it changes the traditional role of the police as 'neutral arbiters of the law'. This book shows why race has become the most significant issue facing the British police, and argues that the police response to race has led to a consideration of fundamental issues about the relation of the police to society as a whole and not just minority groups who might be most directly affected.

Chapter 1
Introduction

Two significant anniversaries passed during the period in which this book has been written, both of which led the media to reassess the state of race, racism and the British police service. April 2003 saw the tenth anniversary of the murder of Stephen Lawrence marked with a memorial service that was attended by many high-profile figures alongside his family and friends. Eight months later the media devoted many column-inches to reviewing the extent to which progress had been made in the five years since publication of the Macpherson Report in January 1999. In many respects this book seeks to add to this debate by taking as a recurring theme the question: ‘What has changed since Macpherson?’. While what is outlined in the following chapters is intended to provide a thorough analysis of the myriad of policies and initiatives that have been generated in the half decade since the Lawrence Report appeared, it is emphasised at the outset that a definitive answer to that question remains elusive. As much as can be stated with any certainty is that those responsible for managing and leading the police service have developed a raft of measures in response to the Lawrence Report that have covered a very wide range of police activity. The extent to which these have improved the quality of service that minority ethnic communities receive from the police is, however, much more difficult to discern and it is certain that the gulf in public trust and confidence in the police that Macpherson identified has not been fully bridged.

While milestones such as these invite debate and discussion, some of the themes reviewed in the chapters that follow are subject to recurring media scrutiny, as racist and deviant police officers have entered public discourse about law and order. In October 2003 a BBC documentary, The Secret Policeman, revealed extreme racist attitudes expressed by a number of police officers undergoing basic training at Bruche, near Warrington (BBC, 2003). The programme contained secretly filmed footage of anofficer donning a Ku Klux Klan-style white hood, improvised out of a pillowcase, and boasting that he would like to kill Asians and ‘bury them under the train tracks’ if he could get away with it. Another officer boasted that he would issue minority ethnic motorists with fixed penalties in circumstances where he would let white people escape with an informal caution. A third officer claimed that he joined the police service because he knew it was a racist organisation and it would allow him to ‘look after his own’. As the journalist who had gone undercover to make the programme noted, the clandestine footage, recorded with poor lighting, focus and soundtrack, was reminiscent of the earlier surveillance material of the suspects in the Lawrence murder case, which showed them practising their knifing techniques and boasting of their racism.

Both the programme itself and the huge public outcry that it occasioned revealed some interesting wider dimensions about policing, race and racism in contemporary British society. First, condemnation of the officers’ views emanated from across the police establishment. Several forces were implicated in the programme, since the probationer officers were serving in North Wales, Cheshire and Greater Manchester Police, and senior officers were quick to condemn the racist attitudes the programme had revealed. The documentary itself contrasted the official prohibition of racist language with earlier footage, recorded in the 1980s, of an interview with the then chairman of the Police Federation, Les Curtis, who defended police officers’ use of the term ‘black bastard’ on the grounds that such expressions were commonly used in society at large. In response to the 2003 documentary no senior officer, Federation spokesperson, or government official sought to defend the racist attitudes that had been revealed on the grounds that these were privately expressed or that these could be distinguished from the professional standards of behaviour to which officers were expected to adhere. Neither did the police seek consolation in an oft-cited claim that the police service reflects the worst elements of the wider society that it serves as well as the best. As is outlined later in this book, these attitudes towards racism in the police – that crude stereotyping is unfortunate but does not impact on behaviour, or that it reflects broader problems in society – have been advanced in the past by those seeking to marginalise or downplay the issue.

The Secret Policeman raised other factors of huge relevance to consideration of institutional racism and the impact of the Macpherson Report, but which did not receive such widespread attention following the broadcast. Early in the documentary it was noted that the new recruits were advised that racist language was not allowed in the training room, and might lead to disciplinary proceedings. However, the journalist also recorded that the Police Federation advised that officers facing such sanctions would be defended. Later in the documentary, footage showed one of the police trainers informing the class that one of their colleagues – the only from a minority ethnic background – would no longer be attending. The tone in which the announcement was delivered caused amusement among the trainees, some of whom had expressed reservations about an Asian being among them, giving the impression that the trainer was colluding in the ostracism of a minority ethnic recruit. Neither of these aspects of the BBC documentary elicited significant comment in the media furore that surrounded its broadcast and yet both raise questions about institutionalised racism, given that they relate to organisational features of the police service. Instead the media focus was on the dramatic and abhorrent footage of officers proudly discussing their prejudice, a serious problem that needs attention but not clear examples of institutional racism, which was the key finding of the Macpherson Report. The manner in which the concept of institutional racism has been understood and much misrepresented in the aftermath of the Lawrence Report is discussed later in this chapter.

Within a few days of broadcast of The Secret Policeman the media reported other examples of racism experienced by black and Asian police officers. One example was the case of PC Ishfaq Hussain, who resigned from the West Midlands Police alleging that the force had failed to protect him against racism from his colleagues and from the public. In his letter of resignation, Hussain claimed that ‘rather than tackling racist incidents [the police] perpetuate them and anyone who challenges this conduct is persecuted’ (Guardian, 2003a). These cases followed quickly in the wake of the case of Supt. Ali Dizaei, who had been suspended from his job with the Metropolitan Police while subject to charges of corruption. Following the collapse of the case against him, in September 2003, it was claimed that racists opposed to him had made spurious allegations in an effort to undermine him and the investigation into these complaints had been described as a ‘racist witch-hunt’ (Guardian, 2003b). The case of Supt. Dizaei is discussed at greater length in Chapter 2 of this book. Instances such as these suggest that there is now a broad consensus that racism is a continuing and serious problem in contemporary policing, and that it must be tackled. To that extent, the establishment of images of racist police officers as ‘folk devils’ suggests that the Macpherson Report has had an important effect in sensitising mainstream white society to the realities of racism and has helped to create an agenda for reform. However, as is demonstrated in the chapters that follow, and argued at length in the conclusion, this agenda has established a relatively narrow – even if extensive – programme of activity and one that undermines the concept of institutionalised racism, which was the distinctive contribution of the Macpherson Report. Before outlining the conceptual debates surrounding institutional racism, a briefoverview of the Lawrence case and the subsequent Macpherson Inquiry is given.

The murder of Stephen Lawrence: another instalment in a tale of failure

Shocking though they are, the bare details of the racist murder of Stephen Lawrence in April 1993 on a street in Eltham, south London, do little to explain the enormous ramifications to which they would give rise. As Lawrence, an 18-year-old student who wanted to become an architect, and his friend, Duwayne Brooks, made their way home at around 10.30 on the evening of 22 April they were suddenly and without provocation attacked by a gang of white youths, one of whom shouted ‘what, what nigger’ as he approached. Even after the assailants had fled down a nearby side street it was not clear to Brooks, or the few other witnesses, that Lawrence was seriously hurt. Brooks ran from the scene, fearful that the attackers would return, and urged his friend to follow: which Stephen tried to do. However, his wounds, it turned out, were extensive and it was noted with surprise by the coroner that Stephen managed to cover approximately 130 yards up Well Hall Road before collapsing on the pavement. While Brooks phoned for an ambulance, Lawrence was comforted by a couple who happened to be passing, during which time two police officers arrived at the scene, but did not provide any first aid treatment. By the time the ambulance arrived Lawrence’s condition appeared – to the untrained eyes of the others present – to be deteriorating. Such was the loss of blood from the two serious stab wounds inflicted on Stephen that it seems likely that he was dead even before the ambulance arrived, within 25 minutes or so of the attack.

When considering the actual sequence of events surrounding what has become one of the most renowned crimes of recent decades in British society, it is remarkable how ordinary many of the details of the case were. The above summary is intended simply to establish the bare facts of the murder; the details outlined in the paragraphs below are gleaned from the Macpherson Report, Cathcart’s (2000) account and from contemporaneous newspaper reports. What stands out from these more detailed reports is how routine much of the context of the case was. For example, Lawrence and Brooks were at the bus stop where the attack occurred as they were hurrying so that Lawrence could get home before a curfew laid down by his father. The actual attack lasted no more than 10 seconds or so and some of those who saw it had little idea that it was serious until they read subsequent newspaper coverage appealing for witnesses to come forward (Cathcart, 2000: 65). The two police officers who arrived at the scene before the ambulance speculated that it mayhave been stuck in traffic, and one officer left to investigate the whereabouts of the paramedics. What became one of the most widely discussed and extensively analysed crimes of recent times combined a mixture of the tragic and mundane in much the same way as so many other offences.

It is also clear that the violent assault that killed Stephen Lawrence was not an isolated event at that time in that part of south London. Two earlier racist murders had occurred in the area: in February 1991 Rolan Adams was stabbed to death, and the following year 15-year-old Rohit Duggal was the victim of a racist murder in Eltham. The investigation of the Lawrence case involved re-examining other knife attacks that had occurred in the previous weeks and months as the police considered that those responsible for stabbing Stacey Benefield, Gurdeep Bhangal, Darren Whitham and Lee Pearson in separate incidents might also be implicated in Stephen’s murder (Cathcart, 2000: 80–6). Added to this local history of violence and racism was the presence, in nearby Welling, of the headquarters of the far-right British National Party, which would win a council seat in Millwall a few months after the Lawrence murder. Against this context the killing of Stephen Lawrence quickly became a high-profile crime. A few weeks after the murder, Doreen and Neville Lawrence, Stephen’s parents, were supported by South African President Nelson Mandela, who met them during a visit to London. In June 1993 some 700 people, including two local MPs, attended a memorial service.

During the first few days following the murder several independent sources suggested to the police the names of five white youths who may have been involved in the attack. Each had a reputation for violence and for the use of knives. Although Macpherson’s Report (1999: 13.9) argued that the failure to arrest these suspects quickly was a fundamental mistake early in the police investigation, since it may have allowed forensic evidence to be destroyed, the five youths – Jamie Acourt, Neil Acourt, Gary Dobson, Luke Knight and David Norris – were eventually taken into custody early in May 1993. From this point onwards a series of legal controversies developed that have surrounded the police investigation of the murder and are outlined in greater detail in the Macpherson Report. The first of these was the announcement in July 1993 that the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) had dropped charges against two of the five suspects on the grounds of insufficient evidence. Two years after the murder, as the CPS and the police investigation ran out of steam, the Lawrence family – in an extremely rare legal move – brought a private prosecution against the same five suspects. Early in the proceedings, the judge indicated that the eye-witness evidence that was the primary basis of the prosecution case would not be admitted, which meant that the case was withdrawn and the defendants acquitted.

Once the CPS had decided not to bring prosecutions and the private case brought by the Lawrence family had come to nothing, the final possibility of establishing in law who had committed the murder rested in the coroner’s inquiry into Stephen’s death. The inquest had been postponed on several occasions, as other legal matters were pending, and was not held until February 1997. In a statement to the coroner’s court, Doreen Lawrence outlined her anger that the police had not been more systematic in collecting evidence in the hours and days following the murder, and suggested that it was this lack of evidence that was at the root of the failure to secure convictions in the case. Her perspective on the role and attitude of the police is summed up in a few sentences from her statement (cited in Cathcart, 2000: 276):

My son was murdered nearly four years ago. His killers are still walking the streets. When my son was murdered the police said my son was a criminal belonging to a gang. My son was stereotyped by the police – he was black then he must be a criminal – and they set about investigating him and us. The investigation lasted two weeks. That allowed vital evidence to be lost.

Perhaps the most dramatic element of the coroner’s court proceedings, however, was that it provided the first occasion on which the five suspects in the case, who had been acquitted at the Old Bailey and so could not face subsequent prosecution, spoke in public about the case. The five were summoned to appear at the hearing, they did not attend voluntarily, and were advised by the coroner at the outset that they were not on trial and had the right not to answer questions if to do so would be self-incriminating. This option was keenly pursued by all five, each of whom refused to answer even the most basic questions about themselves, their whereabouts on the night of the murder, any knowledge that they had of events; even, in one case, refusing to confirm their name on the grounds that to do so might be incriminating. While this tactic meant that nothing was revealed about their involvement, or non-involvement, in the crime it proved a turning point in the history of the Lawrence murder. Although the jury at the coroner’s court returned the verdict that Lawrence had been unlawfully killed in a racially motivated attack, they were forbidden by law from naming suspects. However, an unlikely source was to break this legal restriction, in response, it claimed to the outraged public response to the lack of cooperation and the silence of the five youths. Thus the Daily Mail front-page headline on 14 February 1997 proclaimed in huge letters ‘MURDERERS: The Mail accuses these men of killing. If we are wrong, let them sue us’, below which were individual photographs of the five suspects along with their names.

Following the coroner’s verdict the head of the Commission for Racial Equality, Herman Ousely, requested that the Home Secretary establish a public inquiry into the crime and subsequent policing and legal developments. Such calls had emanated from various sources over the years since Stephen’s murder but had been consistently refused by Conservative government ministers. It may have been fortuitous that public concern about the murder and subsequent investigation was rising in the weeks immediately before the general election that saw a Labour government in power for the first time in eighteen years. Within weeks of taking office, the new Home Secretary, Jack Straw, announced the establishment of a public inquiry into the affair, under the direction of Sir William Macpherson, a former High Court judge. The Macpherson Inquiry first sat in March 1998, took evidence for six months, and its final report was published in January of the following year.

The Macpherson Report: an overview

The public inquiry into the Lawrence case took evidence from officers and witnesses directly involved at the scene of the murder, from those engaged in the subsequent investigation, senior officers responsible for the general direction of enquiries, and from chief officers, including the commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, Sir Paul Condon. In addition, civil servants, expert witnesses and academics provided evidence. The breadth of the final report, referred to interchangeably in this book as the Macpherson Report or the Lawrence Report, is readily apparent, covering the precise details of the investigation as well as broad contextual matters such as concerns about police use of stop and search powers and the deaths of minority ethnic people while in custody. Many of these issues are reviewed in subsequent chapters of this book. Emerging from all of these matters are three broad themes relating to the police investigation: the incompetence of the police, suggestions of corruption, and the role of racism. Underpinning all of these recommendations was the central thrust of the Report, that a ministerial priority be established ensuring that the police service ‘increased trust and confidence in policing amongst minority ethnic communities’ (Macpherson, 1999: 327). The Report’s findings in relation to the first two of the three themes – relating to incompetence and corruption – will be briefly outlined below, before a more detailed discussion of institutional racism.

Instances of police incompetence are given at many stages in the Lawrence Report. Even a cursory reading of the contents page, with subentries including ‘training inadequate’, ‘lack of command and organisation’, ‘lack of documents’, ‘disarray’, ‘absence of logs’, ‘lack of information’, ‘lack of directions and control’ and ‘fundamental error’, reveals a catalogue of mistakes in the early stages of the investigation. Among these was a failure to seal the scene of the incident or to carry out house-to-house enquiries. Some of these errors seem to be the responsibility of officers involved in the investigation while others appear to have arisen due to a lack of resources or institutional shortcomings. In the latter category were the problems that arose from the investigation using HOLMES (Home Office Large Major Enquiry System), intended to provide a computerised means of ensuring that information is effectively processed, cross-referenced, actioned and followed up. Since the technology and training to operate the system were both lacking, the investigation was hampered to such an extent that leads were not followed speedily and information was not shared among the investigating officers (Cathcart, 2000: 45–6). The lack of sensitivity with which the Lawrence family were treated by officers working on the case, the failure to keep them properly informed of developments surrounding the investigation, and the lack of first aid training of officers at the scene all provided evidence that the Lawrence case was flawed by police incompetence. The Macpherson Report made clear that the errors that marred the investigation of the Lawrence murder were not confined to particular mistakes made by junior officers responsible for day-to-day inquiries but extended up the ranks of the police service. In contrast to previous official reviews of policing, most notably the 1981 Scarman Report into the Brixton disorders, Macpherson did not exonerate senior officers for the mistakes of their subordinates. One of the main findings contained in the Lawrence Report was that ‘the investigation was marred by a combination of professional incompetence, institutional racism and a failure of leadership by senior officers’ (Macpherson, 1999: 46.1).

A serious allegation surrounding the Lawrence case was that the murder investigation had been hampered by police corruption. Much of this concern centred on the role played by an established member of the criminal network operating in the area at the time, Clifford Norris, father of one the main suspects, David Norris. Macpherson records that Clifford Norris had, it emerged in 1994, bribed witnesses in the Stacey Benefield stabbing, with which David was charged, against giving evidence, and the Lawrence family suggested to the Inquiry that it could be inferred that something similar had happened with regard to Stephen’s case. Both Cathcart’s (2000) and Macpherson’s (1999) accounts of the early stages of the murder investigation note that people who may have been witnesses to the crime or possessed other information were reluctant to speak to the police – which explained why the police received various anonymous notes outlining local rumour about who was responsible. Macpherson (1999: 8.18) is clear, though, that no collusion or corruption could be proved to have influenced the investigation of the Lawrence murder.

By far the most significant finding of the Lawrence Report, however, was that the police service is institutionally racist. Consideration of this matter had been extensive during the Inquiry, a number of expert witnesses had given evidence outlining different perspectives on the nature of the problem of racism in the police service and Sir Paul Condon, Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, had been questioned by Macpherson on the subject. During his appearance before the I...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• List of tables and figures
• Acknowledgements
• 1 Introduction
• 2 Recruitment, retention and promotion
• 3 Racism and the role of police culture
• 4 Community and race relations training
• 5 Stop and search
• 6 Racist incidents, policing and ‘hate crimes’
• 7 Accountability and complaints
• 8 Policing diversity
• 9 Conclusion
• References
• Index