Fourth Circuit
003
By DEBORAH SONTAG
The 19th-century courthouse that houses the United
States
Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit sits across
from a
CVS and a Dress Barn on a desultory stretch of Main
Street
in Richmond, Va. The entrance -- peeling ''Pull''
sign,
metal detector, dim lobby -- is not awe-inspiring.
But
upstairs in the courtrooms, beneath the pendulous
chandeliers and the oil portraits of former jurists,
a hush
prevails. Whether or not the judges are on the bench,
people whisper. It is as if they tacitly accept that
the
atmosphere should continue to be rarefied even as
the
judicial process becomes increasingly polluted by
politics.
This 148-year-old building, once the site of the
Confederate Treasury, is where you go if you are
appealing
the decisions of federal judges or juries in Virginia,
West
Virginia, Maryland, North Carolina or South Carolina.
It's
the last stop before the Supreme Court, which, given
how
few cases the highest court actually hears, essentially
makes it the court of last resort for those seeking
justice
in this region. Let the plaintiff beware, though;
the
Fourth Circuit is considered the shrewdest, most
aggressively conservative federal appeals court in
the
nation.
On the last Tuesday in February, Lisa Ocheltree of
Lexington, S.C., settled warily onto a hardwood bench
in a
courtroom carpeted in billiard-table green. Several
years
ago, Ocheltree won a substantial jury verdict in
a
sexual-harassment suit against her former employer.
The
jury found that vulgar language, crude sexual commentary
and sexual acting-out created an extremely hostile
working
environment for Ocheltree as the sole woman in a
costume-production workshop. But a three-judge panel
of the
Fourth Circuit overturned that verdict late last
year.
''Were they telling me that I should have just sucked
it
up?'' Ocheltree asked. She petitioned the full court
to
reconsider the panel's 2-to-1 decision, and the judges
agreed to take her case en banc, which they hardly
ever do.
And so all 12 judges were about to file in and take
the
bench, affording a rare glimpse at the dynamic of
the
entire court. Ocheltree's lawyer was nervous: a three-judge
panel of the Fourth Circuit provides a grilling,
but this
would be a full-court press. Ocheltree, however,
was
determined not to be intimidated. ''Just because
I'm a
blue-collar worker doesn't mean I'm gonna let the
black
robes scare me,'' she said. ''It may be the South,
but it's
the 21st century.''
Geographically, the Fourth Circuit, one of 13 federal
courts of appeals, is not the most southern. But
it is
singularly genteel: its judges descend from the bench
to
shake lawyers' hands after oral arguments. And as
recently
as 1999, Chief Justice William H. Rehnquist led the
Fourth
Circuit's annual judicial conference in a traditional
rousing sing-along that included ''Dixie.'' This
always
offended civil rights lawyers and the few African-American
lawyers in attendance. But it never surprised them.
It was not until the year 2001 that the Fourth Circuit,
which has the largest African-American population
of any
appellate jurisdiction, became the final federal
appeals
court to be racially or ethnically integrated. Many
consider the court to be a legacy of Strom Thurmond
and
Jesse Helms because the former senators from the
Carolinas
played a key role in shaping it through patronage
appointments and obstructionism. Indeed, President
Bush's
most recent appointment to the Fourth Circuit, Dennis
W.
Shedd, is a former chief of staff to Thurmond; his
pending
nominee, Terrence Boyle, is a former Helms aide
unsuccessfully nominated by Bush's father more than
10
years ago.
Although President Bush may or may not get the chance
to
name a new Supreme Court justice this year, he is
busy
trying to fill 25 federal appeals court vacancies,
including 3 on the Fourth Circuit, with the backing
of a
newly Republican Senate. He already has 16 nominees
waiting
for confirmation. And despite the occasional Democratic
filibuster, he appears poised to transform the federal
judiciary -- which includes 179 appeals judges at
full
strength -- back into an overwhelmingly conservative
bench.
In 12 years between them, Ronald Reagan and George
H.W.
Bush established a Republican majority on every appeals
court. Clinton, facing stiff resistance from an opposition
Senate for six of his eight years, pushed that back
somewhat so that Bush inherited a Republican majority
on 8
of the 13 appellate courts, with 3 more poised to
swing
Republican through his appointments. And those
appointments, because they are for life, could reverberate
for generations. Judge H. Emory Widener Jr. of the
Fourth
Circuit, who is 79, was named by Richard Nixon 31
years
ago.
As Bush makes his selections, his staunch conservative
supporters tout the Fourth Circuit as a model to
emulate,
and liberals view it anxiously as a harbinger of
doom.
That's because the Fourth Circuit, which has eight
Republican and four Democratic appointees, is not
only
conservative but also bold and muscular in its
conservatism. It is confident enough to strike down
acts of
Congress when it finds them stretching the limits
of the
federal government's power and hardheaded enough
to rule
against nearly every death-row defendant who comes
before
it.
To critics, the Fourth Circuit lacks compassion for
the
individual. To admirers, the Fourth Circuit is a
welcome
corrective after years of soft, liberally activist
benches,
a brilliant court with a healthy respect for the
concerns
of prosecutors, of business owners, of state officials
--
and of the Bush administration, which received deference
from the court to treat a United States citizen captured
in
Afghanistan as an ''enemy combatant'' who could be
detained
without charges even on American soil.
Helms once told a North Carolina newspaper that the
furor
in Washington over judicial nominations was out of
whack
with the sentiments of the public: ''You go out on
the
street of Raleigh, N.C., and ask 100 people, 'Do
you give a
damn who is on the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals?'
They'll say, 'What's that?'''
He had a point. Few pay much attention to federal
courts
below the Supreme Court level. But they should. The
appellate courts, created in the late 19th century
to
relieve overcrowding of the Supreme Court's docket,
decide
about 28,000 cases a year compared with the highest
court's
75 or so. Practically speaking, they have the final
say in
most matters of law; their reach is broader, if not
deeper,
than the Supreme Court's itself.
Judges on the Fourth Circuit say that they just follow
the
Supreme Court's lead. And it is true that the Fourth