Hillsborough Untold: Aftermath of a disaster

by Norman Bettison

  I felt, even then, to be in a privileged position to have the opportunity to observe a public inquiry at close quarters and to learn and understand much more about the recent dreadful tragedy. My experiences over the next six weeks would give me insights that would enable me to analyse the Hillsborough disaster in a broader context and to reach deeper conclusions about its causes.

  Lord Justice Peter Taylor had been asked to conduct this urgent public inquiry. He was from the north-east, a keen Newcastle United fan. He understood football and knew what it was to be a football supporter in the 1980s. His interests and talents stretched much wider though. I recall a conversation, years later, with Dame Fanny Waterman, a distinguished impresario of piano concerts and competitions. She thought that Peter Taylor was one of the most naturally talented pianists that she had ever taught. He could have been a concert pianist if he hadn’t chosen the law. He went on after the Hillsborough Inquiry to become Lord Chief Justice, the most senior judge in the UK. He also, in my experience of the inquiry, understood the human condition. Most judges demonstrate an understanding of human nature but can’t always, within the straitjacket of legal procedures, respond to basic human needs. The Taylor Inquiry, whilst a formal judicial tribunal, felt also like a humane response to aid the processes of grieving and understanding. It might have had something to do with the immediacy of the inquiry to the tragedy.

  By the time of the inquiry, ninety-five people were known to have been killed at a football match and there were two pressing needs for some early analysis about causation. Firstly, the new football season would open in August of that year and the government wanted to be in a position to implement any safety recommendations before it began. Secondly, the government were actively debating a Football Spectators Bill to curb the real and present threat of football hooliganism. They wished to know whether the public inquiry could inform that nascent Bill.

  For these two reasons, Lord Justice Taylor was asked to open the inquiry at the earliest possible date and to deliver a report and recommendations before the beginning of the 1989/90 football season. With the experience of the Chilcot Inquiry and other recent public scrutinies of historical events, it is perhaps difficult to imagine the pace with which Taylor assembled and concluded his inquiry. It opened on 15 May 1989, exactly one month after the disaster occurred. Oral evidence was heard from 174 witnesses, and hundreds more statements were referred to by the inquiry. The inquiry stopped taking evidence on 29 June and Lord Justice Taylor delivered his interim report on 4 August 1989. All in all, less than three months from start to finish.

  Well, not quite. One concession demanded by Lord Justice Taylor, as he scoped the inquiry, was that he be allowed to deliver an interim report by August and a final report later on. The interim report would deal with the specific causes of the disaster whilst the final report would deal with the wider context in which the disaster had occurred and his recommendations to government.

  Some commentators ignore the final report, published in January 1990, because of its sombre chapters dealing with the blight of football hooliganism and how that blight created a context for some of the bad decisions, by various parties, which led to the disaster at Hillsborough. It had a chapter on the problems of ticket touts and recommended legislation to keep them and non-ticket holders away from the curtilage of football stadia. It had a chapter on how football clubs, which make a significant profit from public entertainment, must share the burden of responsibility for crowd safety, and it recommended that this be spelled out in formal written agreements with the police. Indeed, of its seventy-seven recommendations, the overwhelming majority were directed at football authorities and government, not at the police.

  The final report from Taylor is damning of the perilous state of football stadia in 1989. It was to lay the foundation for a revolution in the experience of the paying spectator. The removal of dangerous cages; the creation of all-seater stadia; and the provision of facilities to ensure customer comfort as well as safety were all presaged by Taylor’s final report.

  Taylor’s final report analyses, very carefully, the interlocking pieces of a complex jigsaw that create a picture of how a tragedy such as the one at Hillsborough was possible. Furthermore, it lays out a plan as to how, through the thoughtful redesign of those interlocking pieces, disaster might be prevented in the future. It was a tour de force.

  In the considerations of Hillsborough over the years, media sub-editors, constrained by copy length, and politicians contributing to time-limited debates, aren’t always able to do justice to Taylor’s multi-faceted final report. Instead, they find what they are looking for at paragraph 278 of Lord Justice Taylor’s interim report, published sixteen weeks after the disaster. One sentence in para graph 278 seems clear enough: ‘Although there were other causes, the main reason for the disaster was the failure of police control.’

  A lot of commentators quote only the last twelve words.

  Having sat through the oral evidence phase of the inquiry, I too had reached a similar conclusion to Lord Justice Taylor. Before his published report, I was able to brief the Chief Constable and Deputy that this was likely to be the conclusion. I was also able to write a more rounded summary for Mr Woodward QC to the one that is contained in what was to become known as the Wain Report.

  The final day of oral evidence at the Taylor Inquiry was Thursday 29 June 1989. The following day, I gave a personal briefing about my analysis of the evidence to Peter Wright, the Chief Constable. On Monday 3 July, I sent a similar written account to Mr Woodward QC, who was preparing his closing submission that was to be provided in writing to Lord Justice Taylor by 7 July.

  It was unsolicited. I was a middle-ranking police officer with no experience of public inquiries bar this one. Bill Woodward was an eminent leading counsel with lots of experience of representing clients at public inquiries. He had been called to the Bar in 1964; took silk in the ’70s; was head of chambers by 1989; and went on to become a recorder and then deputy judge of the High Court. He knew perfectly well what was needed in any closing submission and hadn’t directly invited my analysis. He knew that I intended to brief my Chief Constable at the end of the oral evidence phase and expressed mild interest in what I would say to him. That opened the door for my faxed correspondence to Mr Woodward.

  Under the heading, ‘A few thoughts about the nature of the police role at Hillsborough and the evidence that has been received at the Inquiry’, I set out my analysis of what I had heard and understood from the testimony presented to Taylor. I mentioned, in summary, that there had been evidence about club irresponsibility, local authority ineptitude, engineering flaws, and unreasonable behaviour by many hundreds of fans. But that wasn’t where blame was settling. In particular, I set out how, in my view, the evidence had fallen for South Yorkshire Police and for the match commanders. On the third page of that unsolicited analysis I wrote the following:

  I turn now to the aspect of the operation that presents the greatest difficulties for the South Yorkshire Police case – the link between the difficult situation outside (in Leppings Lane) and the disaster that occurred inside.

  There are potential criticisms that are difficult to counter:

  No contingency plan for dealing with such circumstances as those which arose at Leppings Lane.

  Delay in appreciating the likelihood of problems occurring (e.g. 2.17 p.m. road closure requested. 2.40 p.m. reinforcements requested).

  Little and poor communication between outside and inside.

  Five minutes between request to open gate and the instruction to open them.

  During that time no steps were taken to gather additional information; to communicate the intention to other police officers and club officials.

  No plan was made for the systematic (controlled) opening of the gates. ‘Open the gates’ appears to have been a panic reaction.

  No check was made after the instruction to see whether the gates had in fact been opened.

  And finally and most
crucially:

  No other attempt was made to monitor the movement of the fans inside the ground.

  All of these evidential features of failings in police command that I highlighted in my note of 3 July 1989 can be found in the interim report of Lord Justice Taylor, which he published on 4 August. I had had the opportunity, like Lord Justice Taylor, of hearing the testimony of 174 witnesses over thirty-one days of the inquiry. My perspective was no longer one-dimensional and constrained by a few days spent examining and condensing only police-officer testimony. It was rich and complex and would influence the way that I thought about and talked of the disaster from that time forward.

  The evidence of my early enlightenment at the Taylor Inquiry is overlooked by those who are keen to promote a narrative of a force in denial, conspiring to rewrite the Taylor Report and deflect any blame from the match commander and onto the shoulders of the fans.

  That is the picture that is consistently created by Maria Eagle MP in her contributions to any parliamentary debate about Hillsborough. The first time that she painted this picture was in 1998, a year after being returned as a Member of Parliament for Garston and Halewood, a Liverpool constituency. Parliament had, in 1997, commissioned Lord Justice Stuart-Smith to review how South Yorkshire Police had gathered and presented evidence about Hillsborough at judicial proceedings, and to also review the conduct of those proceedings. He presented a report to Parliament which broadly provided reassurance about the approach that had been taken by South Yorkshire Police.

  From her own reading of the original papers, lodged by Lord Justice Stuart-Smith in the Commons Library, Ms Eagle reached a very different conclusion to the learned judge. Her contribution to the debate about Stuart-Smith’s report in 1998, like all parliamentary debates, attracts parliamentary privilege. This is an immunity enshrined in the 1689 Bill of Rights, which defined the role of Parliament after the English Civil War and states that an MP can say whatever they please in Parliament and this may be reported more widely without risk of their being sued, impeached or questioned in any court. That is an awesome privilege which should not be used lightly or wantonly.

  On 8 May 1998, Maria Eagle told Parliament that

  South Yorkshire Police behaved abominably leading up to the Taylor Inquiry.

  They orchestrated what can only be described as a black propaganda campaign which aimed to deflect blame for what happened onto anyone other than themselves … That campaign continued after the Taylor Inquiry reported when it should have stopped … The committee’s purpose changed from supplying black propaganda to achieving historical revisionism but its aim has always been the same – to deflect blame. It is time it stopped.

  Ms Eagle, in campaigning on behalf of the Hillsborough Family Support Group, has often repeated the invective contained in this speech – but only ever within the protected confines of the House of Commons.

  It is difficult to square Ms Eagle’s rhetoric with my own analysis of the policing failures at Hillsborough that was submitted to both my Chief Constable and the QC representing his case. They accurately predicted Lord Justice Taylor’s findings.

  It needs to be said, however, that none of these aspects of the evidence found their way into Mr Woodward’s closing submissions. He had, as might be expected, written his own submission. There was a private meeting between Mr Woodward and Peter Wright, the Chief Constable, after his written submissions had been delivered to the inquiry. Mr Woodward had agreed to meet the Chief Constable to ‘take him through’ the submissions. Neither man spoke to me about what was discussed. I can have no way of knowing whether the police command failures that I had clearly identified to each of them were considered in their discussion.

  Lord Justice Taylor rebuked those representing South Yorkshire Police in his interim report for ‘failing in their submissions … to concede they were in any respect at fault in what occurred … It would have been more seemly and encouraging for the future if responsibility had been faced.’

  I have tested, with lawyer friends, the question of the professional obligation on the part of Bill Woodward QC. They all agree that, whilst respecting the comments of Lord Justice Taylor, the fundamental obligation of representing counsel is to submit the best case on behalf of their client to the best of their ability and not to mislead the court in any way. Mr Woodward QC cannot be said to have fallen below that professional threshold.

  I reflected earlier, though, on the wisdom of having a single legal team attempting to represent the interests of parties who may not have had common interests. By default, rather than positive decision, Hammond Suddards, and counsel retained by them, were representing the interests of three distinct parties before the Taylor Inquiry: the Chief Constable of South Yorkshire Police; individuals at risk of personal liability such as David Duckenfield; and the Municipal Mutual Insurance company, which was underwriting the financial consequences of any future litigation. Just whose interests were best served by not conceding any fault before the public inquiry is difficult to determine. Counsel may have thought it was in the best interests of all three. The Chief Constable might have agreed with it, although I was never aware of any declared strategy of the Chief Constable to deny or to shirk from responsibility.

  Indeed, on 4 August, after Lord Justice Taylor had published his interim report, Peter Wright publicly acknowledged and accepted the blame apportioned to the South Yorkshire Police and apologised for its significant role in the disaster. He announced that he would be submitting his resignation to the South Yorkshire Police Authority.

  I had witnessed in my personal contact with the Chief Constable, during the time of the inquiry, how the dawning realisation of accountability for the tragedy had weighed increasingly heavy on his shoulders. He was particularly appalled by David Duckenfield’s misinformation, which immediately sought to blame the fans for breaking down the gate. Peter Wright attended the inquiry, in person, on just a couple of occasions during the thirty-one days that it sat. I made arrangements for his visit on each occasion. One of those occasions was to witness, first hand, the evidence given by Mr Duckenfield. I left with Mr Wright at the end of the day and travelled back to Headquarters with him in his staff car. He was seething over what he had heard at the inquiry. I worked for Mr Wright for over seven years and this was the only occasion that I heard him swear. In the privacy of the staff car, he vented his feelings: ‘Why the fucking lie? That will be all that people remember about South Yorkshire Police whenever they talk of Hillsborough.’ It was a rhetorical question that did not invite any response from me. A psychologist might have been able to explain the lie in the context of a spontaneous response to a traumatic situation, but no one could ever justify or excuse it.

  There is a disturbing trend in society at the moment to seek to put the dead on trial. It was a serious consideration, even contemplated by a retired Director of Public Prosecutions, in the case of Lord Janner, who was never tried, whilst alive, in relation to accusations of sexual abuse against children. Since the publication of the Hillsborough Panel Report in 2012, a year after Peter Wright’s death, there have been some dreadful aspersions cast about his integrity that he is in no position to defend. In the recent Coroner’s Inquest, and with heavy references to the popular TV drama Wolf Hall, there were knockabout exchanges between counsel and a witness suggesting that Peter Wright played a Henry VIII-esque character: presiding over a corrupt Tudor Court, having his every whim fulfilled on the basis of fear and misplaced loyalty. The witness was never asked to provide a single example from his personal experience that enabled him to draw such a powerful and demeaning simile. The unsubstantiated slur just entered the court transcript and remains there for posterity.

  In my own personal experience, I always found Peter Wright to be an honourable man. I can say with certainty that he did not commission or command a black propaganda exercise after Hillsborough. He was as appalled by David Duckenfield’s dishonesty as the fiercest critic. He accepted the blame apportioned by Taylor although he
was always frustrated that others criticised by Taylor failed to share that burden. I believe that he was sincere in offering his resignation on behalf of the force that was found to have failed so lamentably.

  It would have been better if Peter Wright had been specific about the reasons why he thought he must go. For example, he had agreed to move Brian Mole within nineteen days of the semi-final. He had appointed David Duckenfield without contemplating the consequences for the forthcoming major event. He presided over a force that had failed in their duty of care so tragically at that event. His chosen commander had disgraced himself publicly, and gratuitously, in telling a scurrilous lie. In order to restore confidence in the institution called South Yorkshire Police, it was right that its head should go.

  It would have been even better if the Police Authority had accepted his resignation. They should have done so recalling the many good things that Peter Wright’s tenure could be remembered for. Resignation represented an honourable act that might have begun to atone for all of the wrongs that were properly laid at the door of South Yorkshire Police.

  Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. The Police Authority declined to accept the resignation. I know of no evidence, however, to persuade me from the view that the offer of resignation was genuinely made.

  There has been a great deal of moral outrage generated by the recent disclosure that over 200 police officers’ accounts were amended before they were submitted to the Taylor Inquiry. Whilst the outrage is relatively recent, official knowledge of the process has been documented since 1989. It is an issue that should be addressed here for it is one of the issues within the current popular narrative that taints anyone connected with South Yorkshire Police from that era.