John Mortimer: triumphing over adversity

We all, hopefully, are inspired by somebody at some stage in our lives. I doubt that I am alone in identifying John Mortimer as one of a handful of people who have inspired me at a certain time in my life. By the time I went to university I had already devoured many of the Rumpole stories, watched their faithful adaptation on television, and then read John Mortimer's autobiography 'Clinging to the Wreckage'.

What resonated was the sense of the heroic. Sometimes I think that Rumpole and his creator have done far more for instilling and preserving in a generation the sense that the rule of law is '“ if at times slightly ridiculous, at times slightly bad-tempered '“ a valuable thing that is under semi-permanent attack by governments of any political colour, and must be defended with rigour, passion and humour.

As any advocate knows, it is possible to laugh a case out of court (if it is the right one); it is also possible to shame a government or executive by satire and uncomfortable truth in a way sometimes more effective than the intoning of dry principle that invites qualification, prevarication and avoidance.

Glorious things

In Rumpole we had an old warrior who did more for the rights of man than many an earnest spokesman from a pressure group or a megaphoned preacher to the converted.

Rumpole reminded us of glorious things like the golden thread and the burden of proof. Rumpole told us that although judges were there to judge, they could be fallible and must be stood up to where necessary. Rumpole told us about hypocrites and shysters. Rumpole told us about decent people in bad situations, about love and about mercy. Rumpole told us about the glory of the English language and taught us to cherish eccentricity rather than to condemn it or ignore it.

In 'Clinging to the Wreckage' we had a great story of a bizarre childhood and peculiar Britishness '“ of carrying on regardless and obstinacy that faced down blindness '“ a national characteristic we are proud of because it is presumably the same characteristic that made the country face down Hitler in 1940 rather than sue for peace at any price; and the same characteristic (as an American commentator said of the British) that means we fall at every hurdle, except the last.

We learned about being star struck, love struck, sex struck. We learned about anxiety, the permanent fear of failure and the insecurity of the advocate. We were reassured that it was okay to feel that way as long as we all carried on; and that in carrying on, something good would materialise eventually, however unforeseen.

We learned about the things that matter '“ about poetry, trying your best however unpopular the brief, about the appreciation of the countryside and the people in it.

Quoting Shakespeare

Because of John Mortimer I wanted to be a barrister. I wanted that romantic blend of triumph over adversity, of taking on the bully, of quoting fine Shakespeare to the attentive jury, of worrying about money and carrying on regardless, of companionship and the strange twilight world of the respectful villain.

Defending was, of course, the only thing to do '“ and even now I still think I am a better defender than a prosecutor. In a sense echoing Rumpole, my second-six pupil master taught me that even in the most hopeless of defences or mitigation, there is always something to say. I have been lucky enough to make it, to have my turn with the horsehair wig and I've even (only twice) quoted Shakespeare to a jury (and had my client acquitted on both occasions). I would not have tried if it had not been for John Mortimer and Rumpole.

I know that John Mortimer had his faults. I know that others have sought to de-bunk a myth. I know that there are things out there that people say that are unkind, whether true or not, but I do doubt whether there is anybody who can really get away with such scrutiny entirely spotlessly. But he did deserve his status as Official National Treasure '“ not because he was cuddly or eccentric or fruity. He had that status because he brought the importance of the uncorrupted, equal due process of law into every living room, demonstrated that the fact of human weakness should make all of us stop short and reconsider before condemning, and he made us laugh, and so he made Rumpoles of us all.

I have not read a Rumpole story for a long time, so I don't know what he made of ASBOs and VHCCs and PCMHs and the bad character and hearsay provisions. I'm sure that he had an answer and I expect one day soon I shall get around to looking it up. Whatever his reaction, it will bear the hallmark of Rumpole's DNA that has been passed on to us to safeguard as the next generation: that brave, historic, permanently revolutionary and - above all romantic - affection for what he called life, love and liberty of the subject.