I learned just how quickly the theory had caught on when, months before the trial, our jury consultants conducted focus groups to gauge how a cross section of jurors would react to the case. The results vividly illustrated the stark contrast between black and white perspectives. The white members of the focus groups felt the case was a slam dunk for the prosecution. The African American participants, almost without exception, viewed the case with suspicion and found it eminently believable that Fuhrman had planted the glove.
Later, cable news pundits commenting on the case would pontificate about this dynamic on their talk shows. Among them was attorney Johnnie Cochran who, well before he joined the defense team, proclaimed, “Give me one black juror, and I’ll hang the case!”
There was a certain irony to the notion that the police would frame Simpson. Black men had undeniably been mistreated in the criminal justice system. But Simpson was not one of them. Over the years, when Nicole Brown called 9-1-1 to report that Simpson had beaten her, police officers frequently washed out the charges. Simpson would sign a football for them, and the officers, his adoring fans, would walk away. Even Mark Fuhrman had declined to arrest Simpson for bashing in the windshield of Nicole’s car-while she was sitting in the driver’s seat.
But this irony was illuminating. It told me that Simpson, the man, was less important than Simpson, the symbol. O. J. Simpson wasn’t just any black man; he was a famous black man-one who’d transcended racial barriers to become a celebrity beloved by everyone. In his own words, “I’m not black, I’m O. J.!” To many members of the African American community it didn’t matter much that Simpson was an unlikely target for police malfeasance or that Fuhrman had had no opportunity to plant the glove. Instead, it was critical that this successful black man not be taken down by a discriminatory system.
In that manner, race and stardom were intertwined. Had the defendant been a famous white football player or an ordinary black citizen, I believe he would have been convicted. But his position as a black man who was also a celebrity packed a powerful one-two punch: it assured loyalty to Simpson and reinforced African American jurors’ distrust of the police.
From the prosecution’s perspective, the question was never whether we faced an uphill battle with black jurors. The question was what to do about it. But there were no viable answers. The talking heads, who had no clue what we were up against, insisted that the sheer weight of the evidence would compel a conviction. Other lawyers came up with solutions like, “don’t call Mark Fuhrman to the stand” or “don’t present the Rockingham glove.” But I knew that in response the defense team would accuse me of trying to hide the racist cop and crow that I’d conceded the glove had been planted.