20 Sept 2001
The prisoner
15 years ago he was stabbed twice with
a broken glass after being racially abused. He killed his attacker with
a penknife and was subsequently imprisoned for murder. The parole board
has now recommended he be released, but he is still in prison - and no
one will explain why. Simon Hattenstone on the story of Satpal Ram
It all started, and finished, in a Birmingham curry
house 15 years ago. At one table was Satpal Ram, a 20-year-old Asian warehouse
worker. At another was Clarke Pearce, a white man out with five friends.
The Sky Blue Restaurant was playing Indian music. Ram liked it and asked
the waiters if they could turn it up. Pearce didn't like it. "We don't
want any more of this fucking wog music," he told the waiters. There was
an argument. Pearce smashed a glass on the table and stabbed Ram with it
twice - in the face and in the wrist. His five friends began throwing plates
and glasses. Ram was trapped in a corner. When Pearce came for him again
Ram took out a knife and stabbed him.
Both men were taken to hospital. Ram received treatment.
Pearce, drunk and in shock, resisted treatment and died of blood loss.
When Ram heard that Pearce had died, he went into hiding. He knew the implications
of killing a white man. A few days later, he emerged with a lawyer and
gave himself up. Ram says that when he heard Pearce had died it seemed
as if his own life had just ended - and in a way it had. The all-white
jury found him guilty of murder and he was sentenced to life. The trial
judge recommended 12 years, reduced by the then lord chief justice, Lord
Lane, to 10, and increased by the home secretary to 11.
September 2000: Fifteen years on, Ram is still
in prison. He has been transferred from jail to jail 65 times, and is regarded
as a troublemaker. He has refused to accept that he was guilty of murder,
refused to do prison work, and often challenged the authorities. He was
turned down for parole in 1997. He expects to hear from the parole board
next week, but his friends and family believe he will be turned down again.
Why has he been refused parole? The prison service
says it cannot comment on a specific case, but offers a general statement:
"Release on or after tariff expiry is dependent on whether the prisoner's
risk has reduced to a level compatible with public safety." According to
the prison service, Ram, with a couple of minor convictions to his name
before the incident (including one for assaulting a police officer in 1985),
and having committed no crime while in prison, is still a risk to the public.
I make a request to visit Ram. He is currently in
Full Sutton, a high-security category-B jail. It took almost 10 years for
him to get an appeal against his conviction, which he lost. Now he's waiting
to hear if he will be allowed to appeal again. Any prisoner appealing his
conviction is entitled to one visit from the media; the prison service
replies that Ram would prefer to be visited by Panorama. I write to Ram.
He says he would love me to visit and suggests I go to see him as a friend.
He sends me a visiting order.
Ram has a lot of friends, many of them famous. He
has become an unlikely cause for pop stars: Asian Dub Foundation, Primal
Scream and Apache Indian are all vocal supporters. When I ask Deeder Zaman,
formerly lead rapper with Asian Dub Foundation, why they support Ram, he
says it's simple - because he shouldn't be in prison. Why has he been given
such a hard time there? "Innocent prisoners have a harder time than guilty
ones. It is harder for them to deal with it mentally."
Zaman talks about how they've tried to break Ram
down - the constant moves, the beatings, the five-and-a-half years in solitary
confinement. "Every day he has to defend himself against prison officers.
They deliberately target him and are hellbent on jeopardising his release."
What has Ram done to offend them? Zaman say he has
made legitimate complaints about his treatment, and they don't like that.
Another possible factor is that Pearce's brother-in-law was an officer
at Winson Green prison at the time of the killing.
Ram's supporters say his trial was a farce. He was
given only a 40-minute consultation with his barrister shortly before going
into the dock. He was advised to change his plea from self-defence to provocation,
and not to speak in his own defence. There were no interpreters provided
for the Bengali-speaking waiters who gave evidence. The judge, Mr Justice
Ognall, tried to assist with interpretation problems but he could speak
no Bengali. Important defence witnesses were not called, while the group
that attacked Ram gave evidence for the prosecution. The jury were never
asked to consider the racist nature of the attack.
October 2000: Ram rings to say he is still
waiting for the decision from the criminal cases review commission (CCRC).
Is the delay getting to him? "I've been weathering the storm for 15 long
years now. I've reached a stage where I take it a day at a time. I've come
through the pain barrier." He says no matter what they do to him now, they
can't break his spirit. He's become immune to it all. He sounds so positive
on the phone and he says that communication with the outside world is what
keeps him going. More specifically, phonecards keep him going.
January 2001:
Ram has been transferred to
Wellingborough, a category-C prison. When we finally meet face to face,
he is waiting for me at his table. Like the other inmates he wears a blue
vest that could pass as a football training top. He looks different from
his pictures - softer, slighter. Younger, in a way, without his moustache.
His hair is gelled and combed pedantically to the side.
We talk about the killing. Ram says the more time
that passes the clearer he can replay it in his head. He was 20 years old,
had no experience of life. He demonstrates how he was attacked and stabbed
with the broken glass and how, when Pearce came for him again, he drew
the penknife he used for opening parcels at the warehouse. He shows me
the scars on his chin and on his forearm, where he was stabbed on the night.
There are also marks on his wrists from the last time he was ratchet-cuffed
in prison. Ram has always said he remembers stabbing Pearce once, and acknowledges
that he must have stabbed him a second time. But because there were many
more cuts on Pearce's body the lawyers advised Ram he could not argue it
was self-defence. The only option available was a defence of provocation.
"The other wounds were caused by falling on broken glass that came from
his own friends, who were throwing plates and glasses at me," Ram says.
In his recommendation about Ram's life sentence,
Ognall concluded: "The verdict was to a degree unexpected. There was independent
evidence which suggested that the deceased may well have initiated the
incident both verbally and physically, by wounding the defendant with a
broken glass." Ram did not hear that Ognall had expressed surprise at the
verdict until 10 years later. "If he had such doubts, why didn't he direct
the jury?" he asks me. "If he had, surely I wouldn't still be serving life
for premeditated murder."
Ram recites Lord Lane's conclusion in reducing the
tariff. "There were mitigating circumstances here. I suggest a somewhat
lower than normal tariff. I suggest 10 years." In 1996, after finding out
about Ognall's remarks, Ram wrote to the retired Lord Lane and said he
considered the home secretary's intervention was political interference.
Lane wrote back, saying he agreed.
Ram says that right from the early days the officers
abused him. While on trial he was held at Winson Green in Birmingham -
the prison Pearce's brother-in-law worked at. "A group of screws would
come into my cell and call me a Paki and subject me to all forms of racial
abuse. At times they beat the crap out of me." He claims they encouraged
him to kill himself. "They'd come to my door and say, 'Go on, Ram, why
don't you hang yourself.' Prison is meant to be about rehabilitation, but
in reality it's about subjugation, humiliation and degradation."
Over the years, Ram has read up on the law and human
rights. Fellow prisoners now visit him for advice. He recently challenged
the prison authorities on their monitoring of telephone calls. "Officers
had to make a log of all the phone calls, and when we were talking in,
say, Punjabi, the officers recorded their own comments, signing and dating
each entry. The log was full of stuff like: 'They were talking Paki crap.
Well dodgy.' If they can express such blatant prejudices in these official
documents, can you imagine what they are saying in private? The reality
is that we can't get a fair hearing within this environment."
His complaint led to the officers concerned being
spoken to and sent on a retraining course. As a result, he says, he was
twice assaulted by prison officers at Full Sutton and put back in segregation
for three months.
Ram's father died two years after he was imprisoned,
but his two brothers and three sisters still visit. He no longer see his
mother. "She's in her 70s now, and it's difficult for her to travel due
to ill health. In the early days she visited all the time, but she'd get
upset and that would get me down, so now we just speak on the phone."
Why does he think he's still in prison? "Because
I've never admitted my guilt. While I've always accepted that a man died
as a result of my actions, at the same time I feel that the circumstances
which led up to this incident have never been taken into account properly.
I was stabbed twice with a broken glass after being subjected to a torrent
of racial abuse. I was in fear of my own safety and acted in self-defence.
They outnumbered me and he was physically bigger than me. There was no
time to reflect because it all happened so quickly. I've now been punished
in more ways than one. That's the basis of my submission to the parole
board."
I tell him he's looking good on his 34 years. "Prison
keeps you young," he says. "No late nights." What keeps him going? He quotes
me a verse by IRA hunger striker Bobby Sands:
It lights the dark of the prison cell
It thunders forth its might.
It is the undauntable thought my friend
That thought that says I'm right
February: We speak on the phone. He sounds
rushed, not his usual bouncy self. He seems to be conducting a conversation
with me and a prison officer at the same time. Suddenly he explodes at
her. He has turned the phone away from his mouth, but I can hear. "Have
some manners! You ought not to be doing that to me lady. It's ignorant.
I wouldn't interrupt you while you were trying to hold a telephone conversation.
Have some manners. This is supposed to be a category-C prison." He warns
me they're going to cut him off. Click.
I don't hear from him for a couple of weeks. His
campaign group says he has been beaten up by officers and put in solitary,
and is to be transferred back to a category-B prison. I phone Wellingborough
to find out what is happening: "We have no intention of giving you information
on a Saturday night," I am told. Why not? "Because... we're just not. I
can assure you he has not been beaten up, though."
He has made a series of complaints about being beaten
up in various prisons. None of the criminal investigations has found in
his favour, ruling that officers reacted with minimum required force after
being assaulted by Ram. The photograph, showing him with a bruised eye,
was smuggled out of a prison in Nottingham following an alleged beating
in 1997 after he barricaded himself inside his cell. The official investigation
found that any injuries sustained were the result of him resisting restraint
after threatening officers with violence.
Bobby Gillespie, singer and songwriter with Primal
Scream, heard about Ram when his band were supported by Asian Dub Foundation.
Gillespie went to visit him in Hull. They had their visiting order, the
visit was booked, they had come all the way from London and when they arrived
they were told they would not be allowed to see Ram. They were given no
reason. "Satpal being Satpal said: 'These are high profile rock'n'roll
motherfuckers and if you don't let them visit they'll get a power generator
and a lorry and have a huge gig outside the prison gates.' So they let
us in." Gillespie says he can't understand how Ram can remain so upbeat.
"He's a really soft, warm, loving man. That's all I can say. His spirit's
bigger than any of us."
Gillespie has also heard that Ram is back in solitary,
and he's worried. "I'm scared for his life. I really do think the prison
officers are trying to murder Satpal." Why? Gillespie says he's been a
thorn in their side for too many years.
March: Ram is moved back to a category-B prison,
Blakenhurst. It is red-brick, privatised, neatly cut off from the rest
off the world by barbed wire. Ram is in favour of privatised prisons -
he says the officers treat prisoners better because they know it makes
for an easier life.
In January he had said he couldn't see himself lasting
six months at Wellingborough. In the end, he barely made it through a couple
of weeks. What went wrong? He tells me it's a long and crazy story. "There
was a young man, a lifer, John Walsh, who'd had some bad news. They knocked
back his parole and he'd barricaded himself in. They ordered us off the
landing. We knew what they wanted to do to John."
Ram says the Mufti squad were in waiting. "Mufti
- Minimum Use of Force Tactical Intervention. In reality, prison officers
dressed in full riot gear." Ram and one other prisoner refused to go. "John
was upstairs, and I shouted out through the window, 'You may as well come
out, you're just making things worse for yourself,' and he came out." He
says the others were returned to their cells, but the officers launched
an unprovoked attack on him. "I heard one of them say, 'Get Ram!' They
then laid into me. I was smashed to the floor with riot shields and repeatedly
trod on. I was then ratchet-cuffed behind my back and dragged to the strip
cell." He shows me new marks on his wrists. He claims the officers kicked
and thumped him before cutting off his clothes with a pair of scissors,
leaving him naked in the strip cell for two days without food or water.
The temperatures were sub-zero.
"After two days I got my pot and threw the contents
at the guards." What was in it? He smiles like a naughty schoolboy. "Piss!"
After that, he was moved to Blakenhurst.
Blakenhurst suits him fine, he says. It's closer
to home. And there's also the protest to look forward to. His friends are
going to jam the home office with phone calls and faxes protesting at his
sentence. "We're going to blitz them because they're taking the piss. If
they want to piss me off, I'm going to piss them off, yeah, yeah, yeah,"
he choruses.
May: Ram rings me. He's had flu, and another
period in solitary after another beating. He was accused of having too
many phonecards. He doesn't deny it, but questions whether it merited the
punishment. He claims that every time his parole comes up he gets a beating.
But that's by the by, he says excitedly. He's had
some news. "The parole board have recommended my release. They say I'm
absolutely no risk to anyone." He quotes the report: "The panel did not
consider that Mr Ram's attitudes and behaviour in custody could be taken
as indicating a serious risk of violent offending in the future... He has
not been involved in fights or violent confrontation with fellow inmates,
notwithstanding the racist undercurrents which he perceives around him
and bearing in mind the racist taunts were a feature of the index offence.'"
The recommendation of immediate release from maximum
security is virtually unprecedented. That's fantastic, I say. "Well, that's
the good news. The bad news is that the Home Office has turned down the
parole board's recommendation." The Home Office has said he remains a risk
to public safety, and must go through the traditional process of decategorisation.
He seems to be caught between elation and despair,
and the despair is winning. "It's that Jumping Jack Straw I'm really pissed
off with. It's outrageous. The most disgusting thing is the parole board
made this recommendation six months ago and the prison service has kept
it secret from me." He was due to hear about his right to a second appeal
against his conviction months ago, and still nothing. For Ram, this is
even more important than his parole - if he doesn't have his murder conviction
overturned, he will spend the rest of his life on licence, meaning that
if he were ever arrested he could be returned to prison to serve out his
life sentence.
The prison service refuses to comment about the parole
board's recommendation, beyond stating that the home secretary is entitled
to spend as long as he wishes reviewing the parole board's recommendation.
The parole board says that whether Ram is released or not is beyond its
jurisdiction. Is it normal for the home secretary to overrule the parole
board? "No," says the spokesperson. "We are generally in close agreement.
But the home secretary must believe that it will reduce confidence in the
criminal justice system."
June: Ram is back in a category-C prison:
Littlehey in Huntingdon. I've never seen him like this. He looks devastated,
broken. He has just heard that his mother has leukaemia. "If my Ma dies,
both my parents will have died while I'm in here," he says.
I ask Ram's solicitor, Gareth Peirce, why she thinks
he is still in prison. "There is no good reason. The bad reason is that
he's failed to address his offending behaviour - ie, he won't admit his
guilt and they say his whole history in prison has been one of confrontation.
But the parole board refuted that. A significant number of wrongfully convicted
individuals have been marked out by the prison service in the same way
as Satpal Ram, as troublemakers in permanent confrontation with the prison
system." She cites a few of the people she has worked with: Paul Hill and
Gerry Conlon of the Guildford Four, Paddy Hill of the Birmingham Six, and
Sarah Thornton.
July: Ram tells me how well he has been treated
at Littlehey. He gets on with the officers, and has been allowed home without
handcuffs to visit his mother. He tells me there was something terrible
and joyous in their reunion. The house was packed with friends and relatives
he hadn't seen all these years. His visits have, somehow, given his mother
strength. He's recovered some of his optimism. He has heard that he'll
be moved to an open prison, and if he behaves he could be out in six months.
September: He is moved to an open prison -
and then back again, accused of assaulting an officer. Ram says he'd received
news that his mother had been sent back to hospital to die. He spent hours
trying to talk to the hospital. When he ran out of phonecards he walked
out of his block to get some from another block. He knows he wasn't supposed
to do it, but he was desperate. On his return, he says, he was rugby tackled
by officers and told he had tried to escape. He was taken to a segregation
unit, and he says, racially abused by officers.
Ram is moved back to Winson Green, and then to Blakenhurst.
The prospect of parole has receded. At the same time, Ram hears that the
CCRC has provisionally refused him right to appeal - the ultimate double
whammy.
The governor of Blakenhurst has told him that if
he wants to make a final visit to his mother he will have to do so in handcuffs.
He says he couldn't do it to her. "I want to spend my last few hours with
her in privacy. Is that too much to ask?"
The next day Peirce tells me Ram's mother has died.
He never got to make his final visit. Over the years, Peirce has seen it
all, but even she finds this difficult to absorb. "You wouldn't treat a
dog like this, even if you hated dogs."
The new home secretary, David Blunkett is - like
the previous home secretary - unable, or unwilling, to comment on the case
of Satpal Ram. |