“We stand between the power of the state and the individual”
by Tom Sullivan
A lot will be written about Boston Marathon bomber Dzhokar Tsarnaev’s death sentence this weekend. But not by me. Whenever these cases go to trial, I think about the go-to public defender for mass murderers and perpetrators of other high-profile killings. I think about Judy Clarke:
Clarke is one of America’s fiercest anti-death penalty champions. Besides Tsarnaev, she has represented the likes of “Unabomber” Ted Kaczynski and “Olympic Park Bomber” Eric Rudolph. And despite their high-profile crimes and the public outrage they garnered, Clarke managed to convince the authorities in their respective cases to spare her clients’ lives. Kaczynski was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole and Rudolph received four consecutive life terms. Both are living out their days at a federal supermax prison in Florence, Colorado.
In fact, thus far, none of Clarke’s clients has been executed. Not Susan Smith, who in 1994 murdered her two young sons. Not even Jared Lee Loughner, who in 2011 shot and severely injured former U.S. Rep. Gabrielle Giffords.
But Friday’s announcement that a federal jury sentenced Tsarnaev to death signaled that Clarke’s winning streak may be over.
Don’t bet on it.
Vanity Fair profiled the “deliberately understated” and publicity-shy Clarke in March. She almost never gives interviews, answers questions, or returns reporters’ phone calls. Clarke stands out “even among the exceptionally talented and dedicated community of public defenders across the country who regard Clarke as a hero.” She considers the death penalty “legalized homicide,” and brings fierce intensity to the task of defending the worst, explaining, “The idea is that we stand between the power of the state and the individual.” The word compassion keeps coming up in Mark Bowden’s profile. He writes:
She seeks not forgiveness but understanding. It takes only a small spark of it to decide against sentencing someone to death.
No one should be defined “by the worst moment, or worst day” of his life,” the death penalty opponent has said. But besides that, she has a cause. What’s more,
“I like to fight,” Clarke told the Los Angeles Times in 1990, when, as the federal public defender for San Diego, she took a $50 fine for two misdemeanors related to smuggling aliens across the border all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court—United States v. German Munoz-Flores. In the end she lost the case, but she enjoyed the scrap. “I love the action,” she said. “I like the antagonism. I like the adversarial nature of the business. I love all of that. I think that’s the fun stuff. Especially when it’s over an issue that I think is of significance to all of us, and that’s our freedoms, our individual liberties.”
To her, this devotion to civil liberties is deeply rooted in her conservative upbringing. Clarke bristled in that 1990 interview at being characterized as a liberal. “I don’t know but what my opinions have been the most conservative in the world,” she said. “What does it take to be an absolute supporter of what the Constitution says? That’s hardly liberal. I don’t smoke dope. I don’t snort cocaine. I’m not into drugs. I don’t like drugs. You associate that with a liberal view of a lawyer. I’m not into that. . . . Yes, I’m a defense lawyer, but I think I have very conservative values.”
“I like to fight.” Those of us who work political campaigns can relate. It’s why we do what we do. Our stakes are just not as high.
Clarke and Speedy Rice, her future husband, were the first students I met when I arrived as an undergrad at Furman University. I only knew Judy briefly. But she stood out. When her name popped up during the Unabomber trial, I knew it had to be that Judy Clarke.