Los Angeles Times Interview / Christopher Darden : Shouldering the Burden of Being a Prosecutor

Racial controversy is unavoidable in the O.J. Simpson case. The defendant is black. The victims were white. The judge is Asian American. The jury, depending on the day, has been black, white, Latino and Native American. The lawyers, for the defense and prosecution, are white and black.

Black prosecutors have their own special burdens. They work on the side of the criminal-justice system that oppressed African Americans for centuries. Unlike numerous black defense attorneys and civil-rights lawyers, who are generally admired by African Americans, black prosecutors are both rare and suspect. Because they may be perceived as giving comfort to the enemy, many endure racially charged insults: “traitor,” “lackey” and “Uncle Tom.”

A current target is Deputy Dist. Atty. Christopher A. Darden, a veteran lawyer on the prosecution team in the Simpson murder trial. The high-profile case has made him a reluctant celebrity.

Darden, 39, became famous just by joining the team. He made headlines when he challenged whether Simpson’s defense attorneys should be allowed to use the hateful racial epithet “nigger” when questioning an allegedly racist police officer. “It’ll issue a test,” the prosecutor said in the courtroom, “and the test will be: ‘Whose side are you on, the side of the white prosecutors and the white policemen, or are you on the side of the black defendant and his very prominent and capable black lawyer?’ That’s what it’s going to do. Either you’re with the man or you’re with the brothers.”

Darden joined the district attorney’s office 15 years ago. He took the job strictly for the money: the $24,000 annual salary was considerably higher than the $17,000 he was earning as a government attorney for the National Labor Relations Board.

Intensely private, he refused to talk about his family other than to indicate that he was one of eight children, grew up in Richmond, Calif., attended San Jose State and Hastings College of the Law in San Francisco. Also off-limits were the facts, as he sees them, in the Simpson case.

*

Question: Do black prosecutors face any special burdens either inside or outside the courtroom?

Answer: On more than one occasion, I’ve walked into court and the judge has mistaken me for the public defender.

Q: Has the judge ever mistaken you for the defendant?

A: Yes, as a matter of fact, now that you mention it.

Q: Does that come with the territory?

A: Being black always means that you’re going to be mistaken for somebody, someone or something you aren’t.

Q: Does race still matter in 1995?

A: It has mattered since 1619. It will matter into the next century, probably beyond that.

Q: Did the Rodney King-beating verdicts affect relationships between whites and blacks in Los Angeles?

A: I would think so. The image of 20 white police officers surrounding an unarmed black man [being beaten] with a stick certainly is the kind of image that is likely to strain relations between blacks and whites.

Q: Did it make your job in the criminal courts harder?

A: Not my job, because I was prosecuting police officers at the time of the Rodney King case.

Q: Did it make your job easier?

A: It didn’t make it easier. . . . It seemed to place police officer defendants and suspects on a level playing field, the same field that every defendant and suspect has to play on.

Q: Did the verdict in the Damian Williams case, in which he was convicted of lesser charges, say anything to you as a prosecutor ?

A: No . . . I wasn’t surprised by the verdicts in the Damian Williams case.

Q: Did the verdicts in either of those highly charge cases encourage racial solidarity either among blacks or whites?

A: I’m not white, so it would be difficult for me to take a position on how whites reacted to those two verdicts, but I believe that it helped to solidify the black community.

Q: Does that play itself out on juries?

A: Black jurors, like most jurors, have always been extremely conscientious when it comes to addressing the issue of guilt or innocence. So I doubt there has been a significant change in the way black jurors look at evidence in criminal courts.

Q: Do you like or dislike cameras in the courtroom?

A: I dislike having cameras in the courtroom. The lawyers cater to the cameras. That’s been proven time and time again. . . . The cameras have the effect of dragging out the proceedings. Arguments are lengthy and detailed and vicious, when they otherwise might not be. . . .

Q: Is this your dream job?

A: It was at one time, but it hasn’t been lately.

Q: When was this your dream job?

A: Probably in 1985. I was investigating gang shootings and gang members and prosecuting gang homicides, which was very dangerous and stressful work but very meaningful.

Q: Were there gangs in the neighborhood in which you grew up?

A: Keep in mind, I grew up 25 years ago. I did not grow up in L.A. We did not have street gangs in Richmond the way L.A. has street gangs now.

Q: Is the neighborhood you grew up in as safe as it was 25 years ago?

A: Not at all, and when I return to the old neighborhood, I’m always taken aback. Around the corner, there are black men hanging out at that liquor store all times of the day and night. Drugs are openly sold on the street. Shootings occur all the time, probably within a one-block radius there. Just in the past 12 months, I can think of two or three homicides in that one-block area.

Q: Why is that?

A: That is a very complicated question. Why does one man kill another man? Why is there crime? I suppose there is crime for lots of reasons. People have a need, whether it’s a need for drugs or a need for food or a need for sex. People have needs and people tend to want those needs filled. Some people have needs and apparently don’t believe that they have an outlet or a means to fill those needs, and they resort to crime.

Q: Is there a tendency among Americans, including African Americans, to be afraid of young, black men?

A: There’s a tendency in America to be afraid of black men in general, regardless of whether they are young or not. From my own experience, I can tell you, when I put on a pair of jeans and a sweat shirt and get on an elevator at the Wells Fargo building, people react to my presence. They clutch their purses. Take the strap off the left side of their shoulder, hang it on the right side away from me. Different people go to their respective corners of the elevator. People react when they see black men. I’ve been a prosecutor for 15 years, and I have passed people who seemed to be apprehensive about my mere presence. . . .

Q: Are we beyond the days where race is a factor in a courtroom?

A: Not at all. And, in the minds and in the approaches that some prosecutors take in this office and other offices across the country, race may be a factor. They may count on the race of the defendant as a factor weighing in favor of conviction. But in the cases that I prosecute, race is not a factor. It is never a factor.

Q: How do you respond to people who insist you were put on the Simpson case because you are black?

A: There’s a lesson to be learned from all of that. All too often people see me [and] other black professionals and they always want to minimize our accomplishments. They can never accept the fact that we have sacrificed greatly, in terms of investing a great part of our lives in going to school, training to be the professionals we are. Additionally, that we pay the dues necessary to reach this level of practice. We have tried the cases. We have argued the motions. We have researched the law.

I’ve invested 15 years in this office as a prosecutor. For someone to suggest that I’m on this case because I’m black is to minimize my accomplishments, my efforts, my energy that I have put into this job. You only need to look at my record to see why I am part of the Simpson prosecution.

Under no circumstances would I ever allow anyone, any D.A. or anyone else to use me in that matter, or to use my color in that manner.

Q: Is that the legacy of the civil rights movement and affirmative action? No matter how good you are, if you’re black, you’re seen as achieving because you’re black?

A: I don’t know if that is the legacy of the civil rights movement or affirmative action. People just can’t accept the fact that we have come a long way, though not nearly far enough . . . .

I’m offended when I see or hear references to me as a black lawyer or a black prosecutor. Not that I’m offended about being black and being recognized as being black, because I am proud of being black. But Dr. King said we should be judged by the content of our character, not by the color of our skin. I’d like to be judged by the content of my character and my abilities as a lawyer, not on some other level.

Q: Why are you willing to speak out now?

A: It’s been almost a year since Nicole and Ron died. Anyone who has ever investigated or prosecuted a homicide case will tell you, the more time you put into it, the more energy and effort you put into it, the closer you become to the victims. I guess I’m just sort of grieving.

Q: In this trial, you have been subjected to more news coverage than you’ve been subjected to throughout your entire career. What do you think about the coverage?

A: I think it’s unfair. The intense scrutiny of our personal lives, those of us on the prosecution team, is unfair. We’re civil servants. . . . We’re just civil servants trying to do the right thing to prosecute a case. Our personal lives ought to be off limits. Our privacy ought to be respected. We face unique dangers that ought to be considered.

Q: Why do you stay in the D.A.’s office?

A: One of the things that motivates me, in these cases, is the victims’ families. . . . Sometimes, I turn around and I look at the Goldmans, and if you could see the hurt and suffering on their faces. Sometimes, I see them, and they’re smiling, but when they are in the courtroom, sometimes they are dying inside.

This thing that we are doing is a horrible thing. This trial. What’s led up to it. And the victims just keep mounting up. The Goldmans are victims. The Browns are victims. The Simpsons are victims. Sydney and Justin Simpson are victims. We’re victims because the grief and the pain and the suffering are spread around equally.

Q: Why are we victims?

A: We’re victims because we’re now participants in this supposed truth-seeking process, because we’ve gotten our hands dirty, because we’ve delved into it. Now we’re part of it. Everybody who has to sit or witness these proceedings, or listen to the details of this crime or these accusations, we’re all tarnished. It’s changing my life. It’s going to change your life, all of us involved in it, even if only for a moment, it changes you.

Q: How is it changing your life?

A: It’s taken 15 years for me to finally have enough of this. I don’t know if I ever want to try another case. I don’t know if I ever want to practice law again. It has shaken my faith in a system, a system that I never considered perfect, but one that I felt that, at least in the small number of cases that I’ve handled, was as close to perfect as possible. Everything about this case, and these proceedings, is imperfect. Frankly, I’m ashamed to be part of this case. I’m not ashamed of the efforts of our team. We have a great team, a wonderful team. I wouldn’t trade it. But I hope that my participation in this case is not the legacy that I leave.

Q: Is the next step private practice?

A: I don’t know. I can’t see beyond this case to consider what to do, where I’ll be or where I’ll go the day after the jury returns a verdict.

It’s consumed our lives. This is the only thing that matters. There’s no point beyond this. There’s no future beyond making sure that the jury understands the truth in this case. . . .

When all is said and done, I’d like to go to heaven if possible. I’m not saying I have to go this week. But when my time comes, I’d like to go to heaven. I’d like to think that, if I don’t, it won’t be because of anything that I’ve done or we’ve done in this case. We’re on the right side of all the issues in this case.