The Barlinnie Story

by Robert Jeffrey

  The photographs, said to be smuggled out by a prisoner outraged at the treatment of a mass killer, also showed floral curtains. Some of the officers guarding him must have thought they were back in the good old days of the Special Unit! The ex-con told the now defunct News of the World that: ‘I can understand why he has to be kept in solitary for his own safety, but does he have to have luxuries as well?’ The outrage was felt worldwide and Americans who had lost relatives in the bombing were outspoken in their condemnation of what was going on. No matter how much official head shaking and dodging of the question went on, the newspaper view of the cushy life of the convicted bomber inside seems fairly accurate. It may not have been the Ritz, as some said, but it was no tiny cell shared with a chib-marked Glasgow con and a couple of piss pots.

  When the alleged Libyan ex-intelligence officer showed up at the prison, feelings were running high. The prisoners were said to have ‘howled with hatred’ in the echoing halls as the helicopter bringing him from the trial in the Netherlands noisily swooped down to land. And that comment from a con who understood the threats to his safety from other prisoners was right on the mark. It was freely said that some prisoners would like to kill such a high-profile inmate for the notoriety it would bring. And there were few higher profile criminals around than the so-called Lockerbie Bomber. Others might have sought to simply avenge the Pan Am bombing. But al-Megrahi survived. Indeed, later in his sentence there were even reports of him playing in football kickarounds with his fellow inmates.

  Eventually he was moved out of Barlinnie to Greenock where there was less newspaper talk about his conditions. All along there have been those who believe in his innocence, including many in high places, and in mid 2009 he was mired in yet another appeal amid more pleas to have him sent home. He was suffering from what was said to be terminal prostate cancer.

  One of the many difficult tasks of any governor is dealing with the steady stream of complaints, some from the prison equivalent of barrack room lawyers, some just trying to ease the slow passing of prison time by starting long drawn-out disputes that, at least, put some vague meaning into an aimless life. Nothing like a sense of victimisation to keep your brain cells active. All governors are well used to the letters of complaint from their charges. The letters, too, when the prisoner is literate enough, tend to be long. There are no deadlines for prison scribblers. And their letters are usually predictable and mostly somewhat less than eloquent. But, as in every walk of life, there are exceptions. A good example is the intelligent and considered missive from prisoner 133977 (cell 34, A Block) in the spring of 2001 to the then Governor, Roger Houchin.

  Prisoner 133977 was no run-of-the-mill Glasgow villain; he was a man cast from a different mould from his fellow prisoners. Brian Quail was a nuclear peace protestor, an intelligent, literate and active campaigner against nuclear weapons, particularly those held in the Navy base at Faslane on the Clyde, not far from Barlinnie. No doubt that the Russians at the height of the cold war had this base targeted for its nukes and no doubt, too, that Barlinnie and Glasgow generally were in danger of being vaporised in such a strike. The controversy that has swirled round Barlinnie in its almost 130 years of life would have become academic! Brian Quail was in the Bar-L because of his conscience and his concern for humanity, though the actual crime he had committed to get himself cast into the ‘big house’ in Glasgow’s east end was the simple matter of the non-payment of a fine of a few quid imposed on him for protesting offences, breach of the peace, etc. There could be no questioning Brain Quail’s sincerity.

  In his letter he told Roger Houchin that: ‘I wish to make a number of observations which may provide you with a better understanding of the situation from a prisoner’s perspective, and hopefully thereby help you to achieve a better ordering of the prison. You must be conscious of the fact that many inmates are unwilling to express their opinions through lack of confidence, feelings of inadequacy in writing skills, or apprehension about the possible outcome of any such efforts. I feel therefore that I am writing not only on my own behalf, but also in the interests of many others in prison.’ He also remarked that he would no doubt return to Barlinnie in the future and asked to be allowed to explain the thinking behind his refusal to pay what he called the ‘paltry’ fine of £30.

  He pointed out that he was a member of Trident Ploughshares, a group pledged to take peaceful non-violent direct action against the deployment of Trident by the British state. No doubt aware that this letter would reach the public he took the opportunity to point out that each Trident nuclear sub had a large number of nuclear bombs, each more than eight times more powerful than the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. After some more powerful words justifying the background to his incarceration, he turned to the points he wanted to raise on his spell in Barlinnie.

  ‘At my reception I explained to the medical staff that I had a double coronary by-pass, that I was prone to trachyitis and bronchitis, and for these reasons felt entitled to insist on a non-smoking environment in my cell. This was noted on my medical form, and I was told to inform the hall officer of these facts. This I did, but my request was brusquely dismissed as being impossible. I consequently spent 23 hours a day with a cellmate who smoked constantly, even waking up several times a night to do so. I feel that this was a direct assault on my health and I am convinced that it contravened my basic human rights as defined in European Union law. In the circumstances I took no further action, but determined that in the future I would seek legal address were I subjected to similar abuse again.’

  He then moved on to the contentious subject of slopping out. In his view, and that of many others, even back in 2001, the fact that such an ‘obnoxious’ practice was still in use in the twenty-first century was almost unbelievable. He invited Roger Houchin, if he had any doubts, to join him and experience slopping out for himself.

  That invitation was easy to decline and it also has to be pointed out that the request was naive. Many prison officers were as disgusted by the process of slopping out as the prisoners. And the officers suffered, too. Today in Barlinnie you can still see the shafts where the excrement was sloshed down from the upper flats to the ground floor, under supervision of the officers. No surprise then the old joke: How do you recognise a prison officer? – He is the guy who can go at least three minutes without breathing!

  Other aspects of the Quail Letter were less dramatic, but still demonstrated a basic lack of humanity, a recognition that while many of the prison population had reading and writing difficulties and merited schooling rather than the services of a library, for certain prisoners to be denied access to newspapers was a severe punishment. There were other little niggles like the fact what when Brian Quail’s partner tried to arrange a visit, no one answered when she phoned. Mind you, that is a complaint that can on occasion be made of any large organisation.

  He went on to mention what he called a relatively minor point, though many would put it much higher than that on any scale of complaints. He said: ‘When I was issued with prison uniform I was given jeans and a shirt of suitable size. The underwear however seemed to have been issued on a “one size for all” basis. I am 63 years of age and considerably larger than the young men who were my fellow convicts. I spent my time waddling around with my underpants below my crotch, stretched between each leg of my trousers. They were about half the size needed to circumvent my regrettably large waist. Likewise my vest was halfway up my chest all the time. Not very comfortable.’

  Brian Quail was not the last to raise the issue of underpants in the Bar-L. It surfaced again in 2007 when inmates complained of being forced to wear dirty and ill-fitting underwear. Then as always the prison was overcrowded and it was the only jail in Scotland to ban prisoners wearing their own clothing. The cons complained that they were given prison issue underpants, socks, and vests which could be stained or not the right size. The Chief Inspector, Dr Andrew McLellan, said the issue was of concern. ‘You have to take what you are given. The underwear might fit or i
t might not, it might be unstained or not. I think it is a very important thing if you don’t get the chance to wear your own underwear. We have seen underwear which has been washed but I would not call it clean.’ He recommended personal underwear to be issued to individual inmates and suggested that prisoners were also allowed to wear their own clothes on family visits.

  Brian Quail’s letter to the governor was not an entirely negative letter. There was praise for the officers, a group that even the Scottish Prison Service itself admits does not have a ­particu­larly high image. ‘In spite of popular rumour and my own apprehensions, the guards were relaxed and unaggressive – some indeed were downright friendly. One officer took pity on my obvious withdrawal pains and took the trouble to acquire a book for me – for which I was and am very grateful.’

  The letter ended with some pertinent and helpful, and well meaning, observations though there was a touch of what a prison service pro might regard as ‘teaching your granny to suck eggs’:

  ‘I appreciate that yours is a uniquely difficult profession because you are dealing with people who, without exception, do not wish to be under your authority. No one wants to be in prison. Resentment and anger are potentially ever-present dangers. All over the prison I saw notices affirming a “no violence” policy. Perhaps if some of the repressive and destructive aspects of the penal system were addressed, there might be less chance of a build-up of repressed anger. Slopping out and the sheer maddening boredom of isolation in a cell are themselves sources of resentment and violence. I am sure you appreciate the cogency of these observations through your own years of experience in the prison service. Yours sincerely, Brian Quail.’

  Brian Quail’s reference to a possible return to Barlinnie as part of his ongoing nuclear arms protests was not wide of the mark. Later that year he found himself in the dock, in Edinburgh this time, and jail beckoned yet again. But it was to be a different jail this time, Edinburgh’s Saughton. He was leaving the dock in Edinburgh Sheriff Court having confirmed his plea, on yet another charge related to the Faslane protests, and was looking forward to a couple of hours sightseeing in the capital. (The trial would be completed later.) It was not to be. The law had this peacenik in its sights and his way was blocked by two police officers who produced a warrant for his arrest for another unpaid fine. So it was off to a night in St Leonard’s police station then a week in Saughton jail in Edinburgh, not Barlinnie.

  Quail points out that this switch of prison was odd; maybe something to do with that letter to Governor Houchin. In Saughton, Quail was given a cell to himself. He comments: ‘The atmosphere in general was a lot more relaxed than the infamous Bar-L. I was allowed to keep my watch, trainers, socks and underwear. There was a little library on the first floor where my cell was.

  ‘The ubiquitous drug culture was a sad evidence of so many young lives blighted; the undercurrent of violence a familiar sensation, though I never felt personally threatened. (Being three times the age of most of the inmates I dare say I was not seen as a threat!) I fasted for the six days of my stay, a private and silent act of spiritual solidarity with those who starve perforce while we squander billions on the killing industry.’

  Brian Quail made many headlines in his campaigning against nuclear weapons, but perhaps much of it passed over the heads of his fellow inmates, most of the time. But other ‘headliners’ were a different story. It is a fair bet that following football and boxing, when they can, is a major interest of Barlinnie inmates. And sometimes the prisoners get closer to the stars than some of the paying fans in stadiums or sporting clubs. It is also a fair bet that at any given time the five great cell blocks of the jail hold a goodly proportion of ‘blue noses’, i.e. fans of the Rangers Football Club. So it is easy to imagine the excitement in 1994 when one of the Rangers first team, Duncan Ferguson, found himself in Barlinnie. Ferguson had been involved in what was described as an off-the-ball assault on John McStay of Raith Rovers, one of Kirkcaldy’s finest. The incident was so violent that the police took an interest in what took place on the field and was seen by many thousands in the stadium and perhaps millions on TV. The intervention of the law was a rare event at a major soccer match.

  Ferguson seems to have taken his punishment like a man and went on to have a successful career with Everton, who bought him for £4m, a stratospheric sum no doubt to his fellow inmates. A strong-willed man, he kept his rough house tendencies mostly under control in his subsequent career and went on to earn a medal for Everton against Manchester United in the 1995 FA Cup Final, a game the Liverpool side won 1-0. But he was always a bit of a controversialist and in season 1997–98 he unilaterally decided to end his career as a Scotland player even though some football pundits thought he was at the height of his powers. His connection with Barlinnie added a curious little twist to the prison story: his jail time inspired a piece of classical music called ‘Barlinnie Nine’. This epic was composed by Osmo Tapio Räihälä and the ‘nine’ in the title came from the number on Ferguson’s Rangers shirt.

  Räihälä said: ‘I got the idea for the composition when Duncan Ferguson was facing jail and had just become something of a cult figure for Everton. It takes into account the contradictions in him: he has an aggressive side but there is a lyrical undertone to him.’ The gentler and generous side of the footballer’s nature is also underlined by his time at Everton when he was a regular visitor to sick children at Alder Hey Children’s Hospital. He was a hugely popular figure at this hospital. He did not confine his good works for charity to Alder Hey and often took gifts with him on visits to seriously ill children in their own homes.

  ‘Barlinnie Nine’ was premiered on 20 April 2005 by a Finnish Radio orchestra, conducted by Sakari Oramo, in the Finlandia Hall, Helsinki. Serendipitously, at the time Ferguson was helping set up a league win for the ‘Toffees’ against the legendary Reds for the first time in ten years. This all produced a remarkable quote from the composer of ‘Barlinnie Nine’. Räihälä said: ‘There I was describing Duncan as a failure in Finland, and thousands of miles away at Everton he rises like a phoenix from the ashes to score against Manchester United. If there are gods of football up there, this proves they have got a most twisted sense of humour.’ Duncan Ferguson now lives in the sunshine of Majorca, though I doubt if he is still a pigeon breeder, a hobby which was another indication of the gentler side of a complex man.

  But, for sure, his circumstances are much different from those of another sporting hero who spent time languishing in Barlinnie – Scott Harrison. Harrison threw away a glittering boxing career that saw him win the WBO world featherweight title in 2002 and successfully defend it. Harrison, like many of his fellow inmates, could blame his problems on drugs, alcohol and depression. After his Bar-L episode he was sentenced to two and a half years in prison by a court in Spain and detained by Spain’s national police on landing at Malaga in April 2009. In 2006 he had been in trouble with the Spanish authorities over an alleged car theft and assault. He was also declared bankrupt and stripped of his WBO title. His boxing licence was taken away for bringing the sport into disrepute. And in 2008 he was sent to Barlinnie for drink driving and other offences. The Spanish courts issued an international arrest after he failed to attend a court hearing – difficult to do as he was in Barlinnie at the time, serving four months of an eight-month sentence. It was a sad downfall reminiscent of the booze-fuelled descent into tragedy of Benny Lynch.

  Farcical rather than tragic would be the adjective of choice for the story of one of the most remarkable men to taste porridge in Barlinnie – Stephen Gough, aka The Naked Rambler. This crusader for nudity and self-determination walked the length of Britain from Land’s End to John O’Groats, wearing only his boots and a rucksack, in 2003. He was repeatedly arrested on various charges but did achieve his aim of completing the walk. In June 2005 he started a repeat journey. At first the complaints were even fewer than on the 2003/4 odyssey except when he reached Scotland. The differences between Scottish and English law caused this
eccentric more trouble north of the border, since a breach of the peace charge was always a threat. He was in and out of jails all over the place, despite hardly being a serious danger to society. And he certainly added an intriguing little footnote to the story of Barlinnie’s celebrity inhabitants with an interesting arrest. Leaving the jail, at the end of one sentence, he was held again a few metres from the front gate. PCs Amanda Daly and James Clark were waiting for him when he left the jail and he was detained after refusing to put on his clothes. But there was a twist this time. In Glasgow Sheriff court Sheriff Margaret Gimblett cleared him of breach of the peace after hearing his lawyer point out that for a breach to have occurred, members of the public would have to be placed in a state of fear and alarm and be disturbed or upset. This he said had not been proved since he was arrested so quickly. Sheriff Gimblett agreed. But his freedom was short lived and he was rearrested in the court’s foyer and he was off to jail yet again!

  Supporters of his fight for the right to live in nudity were outraged. One supporter commented that in England he walked from Land’s End to the Scottish border with only two arrests followed by immediate release and that ‘civilisation continued’. This spokesman argued that ‘it seems generally accepted that he has not harmed anyone and that he is not a danger to anyone. Indeed there is strong evidence that it is prudery, not nudity, that is harmful. Despite that, in Scotland, his conduct is considered so heinous by some parts of the police and legal system that he is required to be jailed.’