Everyone deserves justice – even Ian Huntley

The one thing missing from all the coverage of the prison attack on the Soham murderer is sympathy.

"He will be living in a nightmare." This was how a former prison governor, speaking on Sky News this afternoon, described the kind of life that Ian Huntley will be leading in jail. The serious attack on the Soham murderer -- his throat was slashed by a fellow inmate at Frankland Jail on Sunday -- has attracted plenty of coverage, none of it (as far as I can see) tinged by the tiniest bit of sympathy for him.

As this Telegraph recap of his trial explains, "the latest attack on Ian Huntley recalls the revulsion" felt about him and his accomplice, Maxine Carr. "In the witness box he told a tissue of lies, meaning even at the end of the 30-day trial, he remained the only person to know why he committed the brutal murders."

No wonder, perhaps, that he has now been subjected to nine attacks, and has attempted suicide three times.

That Huntley should face the severest penalties the courts can impose is unarguable. It may be that many feel he would have got no more than he deserved if the cut had been fatal. But we do not have the death penalty in this country. We content ourselves with the idea that the deprivation of liberty, of choice, of contact with friends and loved ones, of the ability to have any control over most of one's actions, is sufficient punishment.

No one expects that this experience should be particularly enjoyable, which is why there are periodic rumpuses about prisoners being granted access to such luxuries as televisions, or being fed food that is considered too good for them.

However, as Peter Wilby writes in the current issue of the New Statesman, doing so with reference to the understandable desire for revenge of Denise Fergus, the mother of Jamie Bulger: "That is why we have a justice system that balances the retribution demanded by victims against mercy, the hope of redemption and a large dose of common sense."

Kudos for kicking an underdog

In a prison such as Frankland, the former governor explained this afternoon, Huntley will be at the very bottom of the pile. Other prisoners, such as armed robbers, granted the most "respect" by their peers, will gain further kudos from perpetrating attacks on one of these lowest of the low.

Hence the "living nightmare" he will be enduring. And I wonder how this can possibly be right.

The sentences the courts hand down are for periods of years, and the penal system allocates the category of prison appropriate for different convicts. I know of no clauses that suggest that part of the punishment for certain prisoners is that they should have to experience a particularly frightening time in jail, or that they should have to spend much of it in fear of their lives.

The crimes that Ian Huntley committed are so heinous that I cannot begin to understand how anyone could choose to do such things. It is indeed very hard to feel sympathy for such a man. But it is for the courts to pass judgment on men like him, and to set his punishment.

Unless we are happy for criminals to decide who then deserves further punishment -- and spending years in "a living nightmare" must surely constitute a cruel and unusual one -- we have to recognise that Ian Huntley has been the victim of a near-mortal attack, and that there is something very wrong with a prison system incapable of protecting him from that.

Any who reject this idea, or who just don't care what happens to him, have reached a conclusion that I find deeply chilling: that there are some people who no longer deserve justice, mercy and the chance of redemption. But if justice means anything, shouldn't it mean justice and equal protection under the law for all -- even Ian Huntley? Or have we quietly decided that when it comes to some of our fellow citizens, revenge and barbarity are perfectly acceptable?

Sholto Byrnes is a Contributing Editor to the New Statesman
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Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times