On that very day, at Stafford Crown Court, not far from Stoke-on-Trent, Mr Justice Wilkie had taken exactly the opposite view when he sentenced Jamie Reynolds to a whole life term of imprisonment for the depraved murder of seventeen-year-old Georgia Williams. In his sentencing remarks he explained: ‘I am persuaded that the proper approach for this Court is to apply the domestic authorities which are binding on me’ and leave the issue of ‘compliance with Article Three’ to the Court of Appeal or the Supreme Court.
At the Old Bailey, however, Mr Justice Sweeney took a quite different view, arguing that the issue of ‘whole life’ orders that had been stalking the Courts in England and Wales for almost six years had to be resolved before he would feel comfortable passing sentence on either Adebolajo or Adebowale.
The issue of whether a ‘whole life’ order could be passed, and, indeed, whether it should ever be passed, was thereby thrown into high relief. Yet again, there seemed to be uncertainty about the most draconian punishment that could be handed down in a Court in England and Wales.
That uncertainty was dispelled when, on 14 February 2014, the Court of Appeal in England and Wales, led by the Lord Chief Justice, Lord Thomas, and having among the panel of five senior judges Sir Brian Leveson, handed down their final decision on the issue of the European Court of Human Rights’ judgement over whether a ‘whole life’ order contravened Article 3 of the European Convention on Human Rights.
The Lord Chief Justice and the Court emphatically confirmed the right of the Courts in England and Wales to pass ‘whole life’ orders for the most heinous crimes, and insisted that those orders were humane, not least because – contrary the European Court’s view – they did allow for the possibility of release, at least on compassionate grounds.
Just eleven days later, on Tuesday 25 February 2014, Mr Justice Sweeney returned to the Old Bailey to pass sentence on Michael Adebolajo and Michael Adebowale. It was to provide some of the most dramatic moments ever seen in the long history of the Central Criminal Court in Old Bailey, and resulted in both men being taken physically from the dock, screaming abuse at the judge and the judicial system.
It quickly became apparent that neither Adebolajo nor Adebowale were prepared to accept the authority of Mr Justice Sweeney to sentence them at all. They were the first al-Qaeda-inspired terrorists to murder on British soil without killing themselves in the process – and therefore the first to come before a British Court. The London bombers of 7 July 2010 had all committed suicide as they detonated their explosives. In contrast, their passage to paradise had been blocked, and now they were confronted with the full force of the law, and neither young man was prepared to accept it.
Nevertheless, for a time, Adebolajo and Adebowale were prepared to let the judicial system take its course. They, albeit grudgingly, allowed their barristers to make pleas of mitigation on their behalf, and for the ‘victim statements’ on behalf of Lee Rigby’s family to be heard in Court.
After hearing from Adebowale’s defence that a ‘whole life’ term of imprisonment would be ‘inhumane’ for the twenty-two-year-old young man, and a similar plea from the defence – though not based on his age, more on its ‘inhumanity’ – on behalf of Michael Adebolajo, Mr Justice Sweeney started to pass sentence.
After outlining the fact that they had been convicted ‘on overwhelming evidence’ of the ‘barbaric murder’ of Fusilier Lee Rigby on 22 May 2013, and the fact that they were British citizens aged twenty-nine and twenty-two, Mr Justice Sweeney went on to say that he was ‘sure of the following facts’: ‘You each converted to Islam some years ago, Thereafter you were radicalised and each became an extremist – espousing a cause and views which, as has been said elsewhere, are a betrayal of Islam and of the peaceful Muslim communities who give so much to our country.’
The judge’s opening remarks provoked a furious reaction from the two young men in the dock. ‘That’s a lie!’ Adebowale shouted at the top of his voice, jumping to his feet. ‘You know nothing about Islam,’ he yelled, before throwing the water in the plastic cup in front of him at one of the nine security guards surrounding him in the dock. He then hit him and spat at him.
‘I swear by Allah that America will not be safe,’ the younger of the two defendants added, again at the top of his voice.
That incited Adebolajo to turn and grapple with another officer and a full-blown scuffle broke out in the dock, after which both defendants were forced to the ground – with only their legs in the air and showing above the wooden front of the dock.
Mr Justice Sweeney continued for a moment, and then paused before saying, ‘Gentlemen, you have a choice …’ But events in the dock had already gone from bad to worse.
With the fight still in full flow, Adebolajo shouted ‘Allahu Akbar!’ (God is the Greatest) before he and Adebowale were physically carried out of the dock and down the stairs to the cells head first.
As they departed, the sounds of their shouts of ‘Lies, Lies!’ and ‘No betrayal!’ continued to echo around the courtroom reducing the family of Fusilier Rigby, sitting just a few feet away, to tears.
It was only when peace and quiet were restored that Mr Justice Sweeney resumed his summing-up, doing so with the specific agreement of the barristers for both men and the prosecution.
‘It is no exaggeration to say,’ Mr Justice Sweeney said, addressing the defendants as though they were still in the dock before him, ‘that what the two of you did resulted in a bloodbath. Aspects of all this were seen, as they were intended to be, by members of the public.’
Drawing attention to the fact that the numbers of passers-by increased during the thirteen minutes it took the police to arrive, the judge continued: ‘You both gloried in what you had done, Each of you had the gun at one point or another and it was used to warn off any male member of the public who looked as though he might intervene.’
Describing the killing as ‘sickening and pitiless’, Mr Justice Sweeney then drew attention to the ‘severe and lasting impact on those close to Lee Rigby’.
Looking across at the now deserted dock, and accepting that Michael Adebolajo was now firmly in the cells in the bowels of the Old Bailey, Mr Justice Sweeney then spoke to the Court and to Lee Rigby’s family and friends in his firm voice.
‘You, Adebolajo, were the leader of this joint enterprise – albeit that Adebowale played his part enthusiastically. It was you who provided much, if not all, of the equipment and the car, and you were the mouthpiece of the day.’
‘That said,’ the judge went on, ‘neither of you, I am sure, has any real insight into the enormity of what you did, nor any genuine remorse for it either – only regret that you did not succeed in your plan to be shot dead, which has resulted in you being brought to justice before the courts. Equally you, Adebolajo,’ he added, ‘who I have observed at length, have – I am sure – no real prospect of rehabilitation.’
There was a hush in the courtroom as Mr Justice Sweeney went on to explain that a life sentence is mandatory for murder, and that he must ‘identify the minimum term that you must serve’. The prosecution had insisted that this murder was for the purpose of advancing a political, religious, racial or ideological cause, which meant that he fell within Schedule 21 of the Criminal Justice Act 2003 that called for a ‘whole life’ term.
The prosecution also alleged, he said, that the crime fell within the provisions of the Counter Terrorism Act 2008 and had a terrorist connection.
Adebolajo’s pleas for mitigation on the grounds that the murder was motivated by ‘simple religious ha
tred’, which might suggest he should consider a lesser sentence than a ‘whole life’ term, and – equally – that there were signs that there was some hope that he was capable of rehabilitation, as well as that he had not acted as part of a wider group, were all rejected by Mr Justice Sweeney.
Insisting that in Adebolajo’s case there was no mitigation whatever, although this was not a case of ‘mass or repeated murder’, the judge concluded that it was ‘one of these rare cases where not only is the seriousness exceptionally high’ but that the ‘requirements of just punishment and retribution make a whole life term the just penalty. Accordingly in your case I propose to impose such a term.’
The defendant was not in Court to hear his fate, and neither was his young partner, who suffered only a little less severely at the hands of Mr Justice Sweeney.
Again sentencing without the defendant in the dock in front of him, Mr Justice Sweeney concluded that in his case a whole life term was not appropriate.
‘In your case, Adebowale, I am persuaded that a combination of your lesser role, your age and your pre-existing and continuing mental condition mean that it is not appropriate in your case to impose a whole life term,’ the judge said. ‘Nevertheless, in your case there must be still a very substantial minimum term. The term I propose to impose is one of forty-five years, less the 272 days spent on remand.’
That meant that Adebowale, then still only twenty-two, would not be even considered for release until he was at least sixty-seven years old, and there was no guarantee of his freedom even then.
Outside the Court, Lee Rigby’s family thanked the judge and told the assembled large crowd – including demonstrators carrying banners calling for the restoration of the death penalty, some of them holding replica gallows complete with a noose – ‘We feel that no other sentence would have been acceptable … and we feel that justice has been served for Lee.’
Fusilier Rigby’s wife, from whom he was separated, but who was the mother of his son, had said earlier that her husband would ‘never be forgotten’.
Neither will his trial. Yet the dramatic events of that Wednesday morning of 26 February 2014 did nothing to deter Adebolajo from announcing just two months afterwards that he intended to appeal against the judge’s decision to the Court of Appeal – citing what he alleged were ‘mistakes’ made by Mr Justice Sweeney during the three-week trial.
So it was that on Wednesday 3 December 2014, ten months after their sentencing, the cases of Michael Adebolajo and Michael Adebowale came before the Court of Appeal in London. The more aggressive Adebolajo declined to appear – even by video link from his prison, Full Sutton, near York – but his partner Adebowale agreed to do so from Broadmoor Hospital, where he had been transferred in the months after his sentence.
Matters did not go well for either defendant. Taking the absent Adebolajo’s case first, his barrister argued that there were a number of technical legal issues that rendered Mr Justice Sweeney’s sentence unreasonable – including the fact that the defendant believed he was acting as ‘soldier’ for the jihadist cause and should therefore be judged as someone who was active in combat and not therefore obliged to follow the criminal law. He also questioned whether the killing of Fusilier Rigby should be classified as terrorism or not.
For Adebowale, his barrister argued that his relative youth – he was just twenty-two – should mitigate against such a long sentence; that he was not the driving force within the decision to kill Lee Rigby; and that his medical condition was such that he was ‘edging ever closer to an enduring and lasting illness’, as was clear from the decision to remove him from prison and place him in Broadmoor, a special hospital for the criminally insane.
The Lord Chief Justice, Lord Thomas, and his two fellow judges were not swayed by either argument and brushed aside both applications for leave to appeal in a brutally critical judgement that made it abundantly clear that the Court of Appeal fully supported Mr Justice Sweeney’s decisions in February.
Reviewing the details of the crime, Lord Thomas pointed out that both men had become radicalised and had decided to murder a British soldier in broad daylight and in public as part of their personal jihad. They also, he continued, intended to get themselves killed in the process of the killing and had planned these actions over a period of time, taking with them eight knives and a old handgun that did not work, but could be used to frighten members of the public who might be tempted to interfere.
The idea, Lord Thomas went on, was to cause the most impact on the general public, which is why they had gone to such lengths to attempt to decapitate Fusilier Rigby at the scene of the attack, and that they both ‘gloried’ in what they had done.
Turning to Adebolajo’s contention that he was some kind of ‘soldier’, Lord Thomas dismissed it as ‘hopelessly misconceived’ as an argument ‘which should never have been advanced’. Indeed he described the entire appeal as ‘having no merit at all’.
There was more than enough evidence, he concluded, to suggest that the murder had been committed to advance the two Nigerians’ ‘political cause’, and that it had been a quite deliberate action which they had both ‘wholly understood’. It was, he added, a ‘barbaric murder’ committed against ‘our state’ and ‘our society’ which had also had a devastating effect on the Rigby family.
As for Adebowale’s appeal, the Lord Chief Justice was equally dismissive, insisting that he had been fit enough to stand trial and that his mental health at his appeal did not reduce his culpability for the crime. Lord Thomas concluded that ‘the judge was entitled to pass the sentence that he did’, adding that he did not feel a ‘whole life’ term was appropriate in the younger defendant’s case.
The irony was that the twenty-two-year-old Adebowale will at least be eligible to be considered for release when he is sixty-seven years old – after committing one of the most brutal and public murders in modern times – whereas his co-conspirator Michael Adebolajo will never have that privilege. Neither will Jamie Reynolds, of almost exactly the same age, who is condemned to spend the rest of his days behind bars without the possibility of release – except in the most exceptional circumstances.
As I sat there watching the appeal, I could not avoid thinking that the confusion over exactly what represents the grounds for sending a killer to prison for the rest of his life remains. When does a ‘heinous crime’ become sufficiently ‘heinous’ to warrant a whole life term of imprisonment?
4
‘I killed to see how I would feel’
Joanna Dennehy
Michael Adebolajo was not the only person to be given a whole life sentence for murder in the final days of February 2014.
Just two days after Mr Justice Sweeney imprisoned the Islamic extremist for the rest of his life for the barbarous killing of Fusilier Lee Rigby, Mr Justice Spencer, also sitting at the Central Criminal Court in Old Bailey, sentenced another vicious killer to spend the rest of their life in prison – the only difference was that this killer was a woman.
On 28 February 2014, thirty-one-year-old Joanna Dennehy, who was born to a respectable middle-class family in the affluent town of St Albans in Hertfordshire and had played netball for her school team before descending into severe drug and alcohol problems as a teenager in 1997, became the first woman ever to be sentenced to a whole life term by a judge.
Only two women before Dennehy had ever been condemned to end their days behind bars – the ‘Moors Murderer’ Myra Hindley, who died at the age of sixty in November 2002 without seeing freedom since her arrest in 1965, and Rosemary West, who is no
w sixty-two and has been in jail since April 1994, with no prospect whatever of release.
Both of those women, however, had originally been given fixed terms of imprisonment by the judges in their cases – only for those twenty-five-year terms to be extended to whole life by the Home Secretary of the day. In the case of Hindley, this was done by the Conservative David Waddington and confirmed by his successor Michael Howard, and in West’s case by Labour’s Jack Straw.
Indeed, no woman had been subject to a whole life sentence since the last days of 2003, when the Home Secretary lost the power to amend any term of imprisonment under the new Criminal Justice Act, which became law in November of that year. At no point during the ensuing decade had any woman committed a crime so heinous that she should be considered as warranting the most draconian penalty under English law. But in the case of Joanna Dennehy that was to change.
On the surface, Dennehy hardly looked as though she could deserve such a punishment. A thin, white-faced young woman with piercing eyes, she may have sported a green star tattoo beneath her right eye, but she appeared to be nothing more than a troubled teenager who had never quite managed to grow into maturity.
Her appearance could not have been more deceptive, however, for behind the mask of normality Dennehy was a psychopath who suffered from a severe antisocial personality disorder that revealed itself in ferocious bouts of ‘anger, aggression, impulsiveness and irresponsibility’ – in the words of one psychiatrist who interviewed her. No matter how harmless she may have looked, she killed for her own amusement and, to use her own words, ‘to see how I feel’.
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