When the Department of Justice released a stinging report that detailed human and civil rights violations in Ferguson, Missouri, many wondered if meaningful reforms were in the offing. Would the investigation and its scathing conclusions change the policing methodologies in the St. Louis suburb and serve as a warning to others that allowed or promoted the same behavior?
At the time, former Attorney General Eric Holder explained his department would attempt to negotiate a “consent decree” with municipal leaders and, in absence of a settlement, sue in federal court to compel action. Seeing no immediate reform–outside of several notable resignations and firings in Ferguson–and demanding an extension that covers all 90 jurisdictions in St. Louis County, social justice advocates were ho-hum when the department released its findings in Cleveland last December and, more recently, announced a similar investigation would be conducted in Baltimore.
The truth is more than 20 U.S. cities are now under a consent decree, meaning they have agreed to work with the Justice Department’s civil rights division to—in effect—reform themselves. The legally binding actions outlined are specific and stem from rigorous fact-finding. In recent days, the city of Cleveland entered a similar agreement, and current Attorney General Loretta Lynch signaled she will lead an investigation into the Baltimore police department after Freddie Gray was killed in police custody.
Cleveland has been embroiled in controversy since the death of 12-year-old Tamir Rice last November and the acquittal of police office Michael Brelo in the fatal shooting of Timothy Russell and Malissa Williams. Brelo was among 13 officers who unleashed a stunning 137 rounds on the unarmed suspects as they sat in their car. The city was already under a “pattern and practice” investigation at the time of both incidents.
So the question remains: how effective are such measures?
The Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act, passed in 1994, has proven to be one of the most significant pieces of justice-related legislation enacted over the last 20 odd years. It is most widely known for its problematic measures, including the so-called “three strikes” law that mandates life imprisonment for three-time offenders. Signed into law by former President Bill Clinton, that aspect has disproportionately fueled the mass incarceration of African American men.
However, the law also handed the civil rights division the ability to pursue police agencies if they demonstrate a “pattern and practice” of violating the Constitutional rights of the people they are sworn to serve and protect—including the use of excessive force, racial profiling, and policing-for-profit schemes. The extraordinary language came just three years after Rodney King was beaten by four LAPD police officers. It was a response to a national outcry that the federal government do more to hold law enforcement agencies accountable when local authorities fail.
The prevalence of third-party videotape, which grew exponentially in the years since Rodney King with the advent of smartphone technology and the ubiquitous nature of surveillance cameras, has afforded investigating agencies with a bevy of tangible evidence. Relying on an officer’s statement, as North Charleston, South Carolina police had initially done in the case of patrolman Michael Slager, is no longer the end of the inquiry. Slager, who was unaware that a bystander recorded him, made a flurry of false statements related to the death of Walter Scott. When a tape emerged of him standing calmly in a footpath and shooting Scott five times in the back, he was arrested and charged.
That said, police officers are rarely charged—even when investigators are armed with that kind of physical evidence. Grand juries have shown themselves to be more than hesitant to indict members of law enforcement. Even when a district attorney presses charges or a grand jury issues a bill of indictment, getting 12 jurors or a judge to convict beyond a reasonable doubt is among the longest of shots.
African Americans, specifically, have historically looked to federal authorities when they cannot find justice at the local level. There have been disappointments, for sure. One example is former Ferguson police officer Darren Wilson, who escaped both local and federal charges in the shooting death of 18-year-old Michael Brown. The “pattern and practice” investigation and its conclusions in Ferguson left many hopeful. However, the city recently retained the services of a powerful attorney and has yet to enter into a consent decree.
If a law enforcement agency refuses reforms under a consent decree, DOJ lawyers can proceed with legal proceedings and recommend a court-ordered monitor. Agreements have been brokered in a number of cities, including Pittsburgh, Los Angeles, Cincinnati, Oakland, New Orleans, Portland, New York, and Detroit, among others.
Police unions have historically pushed back, calling federal intervention unnecessary and harmful to effective policing, rather than fostering greater transparency and accountability. But “big-city police departments rarely investigate and monitor themselves impartially especially when the abuse is systemic,” wrote Joe Domanick for The Crime Report. The notion that increased accountability would lead to community confidence and trust appears lost on police union leaders.
Citing the realities of the blue wall of silence, “Many street cops are loyal first and foremost to each other. Solidarity matters more to them than some abstract constitutional principle,” Dominic continued.
The irony here, of course, is that police departments often point to a “no-snitch” culture among victims and potential witnesses—many of whom believe their lives would be endangered by reporting a violent crime or testifying in open court.
“In Oakland, for example, anger over the decree among veteran officers grew so extreme that after nine years of non-compliance, a federal judge temporarily ordered the department placed under a receiver who had total control over the department,” Domanick said.
Consent decrees, like the one signed by Cleveland city officials, are not magical. The long and complicated process can itself be frustrating to social justice advocates. Change is, of course, inextricably tied to how rigorously each agreement is enforced. That ebbs and flows with each White House administration.
It is worth noting that New York, Los Angeles, and others were operating under federal agreements when unarmed suspects were killed in custody. The governing law, as written, has the proverbial “teeth” to pressure change. The question remains whether the Justice Department has the funding and the will to clamp down.
H/T: The Crime Report
