December 14, 2008	Sunday	Zilhaj 15, 1429

Debbie Purdy’s arrival at the royal courts of justice in London is always greeted by a media scrum. Photographers swarm, cameras flash, and, from her wheelchair, Purdy tells of her battle to die at a time of her own choosing, after years with multiple sclerosis. She naturally wants her husband to be with her when this happens, and needs to know that he will be safe from prosecution.

An astute observer would notice another constant feature of these court appearances – an immaculately dressed Asian woman standing quietly in the background. Saimo Chahal has built a career on helping people turn disadvantage into pioneering litigation, a record that won her the UK legal profession’s highest accolade in October, when she was named Law Society Solicitor of the Year. In Purdy’s case Chahal has crafted a public law action that challenges the fact that prosecutors have traditionally never proceeded against those who help terminally ill loved-ones die, yet refuse to give guidance clarifying their legal position.

Chahal says that when Purdy initially approached her, she had ambivalent views about assisted suicide. Then she conducted a survey of around 50 people whose relatives had used the services of the Swiss assisted suicide clinic, Dignitas. “There were some really heart-rending stories,” says Chahal, and “in every single case it was the terminally ill patient who drove the decision to die. The relatives had often reluctantly decided to assist and in doing so put themselves in the situation where they faced prosecution.”

She says that she has “come to the clear view that it is an issue of autonomy – people should have control over their life and they should also have control over the manner in which they die. The issue needs revisiting by the courts and by parliament.”

Many lawyers would shy away from trying to influence government policy, but not Chahal. In another case she is working on, a woman who was raped as a child approached her, frustrated that the prosecuting authorities had refused to pursue her complaint. Chahal took the case, challenged that decision, and the investigation was re-opened.

“The government prides itself on prosecuting rape cases,” she says, “but the percentage chance of success is so depressingly low.” Chahal says that many of the reasons for the poor conviction rate – which currently stands at just 5.6 per cent of reported cases - were exposed by her client D’s experience.

“Cases are not sufficiently well prepared, or prosecuted vigorously. What really struck me in this case was what a compelling witness D made . . . but the statement that had been taken from her by the police just didn’t do her justice. There are still too many assumptions about women who get raped which are false and prejudicial, and the guidance on how to conduct rape cases is not followed.”

Chahal’s work has always been on the side of the claimant, acting against public bodies alleged to have been acting unfairly. Her firm, Bindmans, was founded by renowned civil liberties lawyer Geoffrey Bindman and aims to embody “ethical positioning and moral commitment”. Some lawyers have criticised this type of practice as moving away from the objective role lawyers have traditionally played, which involves representing both sides. Chahal disagrees, and says that her objectivity is both intact, and crucial.

“In cases where you are setting a precedent you have to be aware of the effect that the case may have on other people, and you can’t do that if you become emotionally involved. You have to know where to draw boundaries.”

Chahal’s willingness to confront the status quo has enabled her to literally change the law. Some of her greatest successes have been a string of challenges arising from deaths or near-deaths in state custody which have led to the authorities being compelled to conduct full, independent inquiries.

But her approach has also landed her in hot water. In recent years, Chahal has represented the notorious murderer “ the Yorkshire Ripper”, Peter Sutcliffe - the man serving 20 life sentences for a series of 13 brutal murders between 1975 and 1980. All his victims were women. When the news of this work broke earlier this year, she found herself on the front pages of the tabloid press. The headlines announced that Chahal is “the woman who wants to free the Yorkshire Ripper”, alongside a photograph that had been taken from a website profile, which showed her grinning coyly.

Chahal is not, in fact, involved in the criminal case against Sutcliffe, which ended with his conviction more than 25 years ago. Sutcliffe was diagnosed with schizophrenia three years after beginning his sentence in 1981 and moved to Broadmoor (secure) Hospital, west of London, where Chahal represents his attempt to have a “tariff” - or minimum term of imprisonment - set, as well as on the various mental health issues that have arisen in his case.

With the tabloid press pursuing her, Chahal began to receive hate mail and was “astonished” she says, that the media went as far as to implicate her family, questioning how the mother of a young daughter could represent someone such as Sutcliffe. “If I wasn’t the person I am I would have asked myself why I took that case on - but I felt I was doing my job as a lawyer. Peter Sutcliffe is entitled to good legal representation as much as anyone else. It is a fundamental right enshrined in our legal system. My job is to do the best I can and not to be bullied and distracted from that course.”

Even with this outlook though, Chahal says it is impossible to avoid the emotional impact of representing violent criminals. “Dealing with clients who have committed terrible crimes can be very troubling,” she says. “My role and focus as a lawyer, however, is to put aside personal feelings and do the best job I can.”

Like so many high-profile ethnic minority practitioners, Chahal has become a role-model, although it is not what she set out to be. Nevertheless, she feels that it is “shocking and a shame” that women and minorities are so under-represented in the judiciary (only 19 per cent are female; 4 per cent come from an ethnic minority). She feels that the creation of a judicial appointments commission - which for the first time introduces transparency into the process of appointing judges - is not enough. “The system is still stacked against solicitors (most judges are drawn from the ranks of barrister/advocates), and also against women and black people becoming judges, and there are a whole raft of reasons why. The selection process is so narrow in what is deemed to make a good judge. The judicial appointments committee is doing a good job of advertising and publishing shortcomings but it is not necessarily addressing the substance.”

This is an important issue, she says, because the legal profession needs to reflect “the community it serves. For consumers of the legal system, the lack of diversity creates a suggestion of unfairness”. But the prominence of Chahal’s work is evidence that the system is changing. “It’s important,” she says, “that young lawyers, and especially young lawyers from ethnic communities see the possibility to succeed and do well. I hope that’s something I can give other people.”— Dawn/Guardian News & Media 2008