BRISCOE ET AL. v. LAHUE ET AL.
No. 81-1404
Supreme Court of the United States
Argued November 9, 1982—Decided March 7, 1983
460 U.S. 325
Edmund B. Moran, Jr., argued the cause for petitioners. With him on the briefs was Robert A. Creamer.
Harriet Lipkin argued the cause for respondents. With her on the brief was William T. Enslen.
JUSTICE STEVENS delivered the opinion of the Court.
This case presents a question of statutory construction: whether
The Court of Appeals heard argument in three separate cases raising the absolute immunity issue and decided them in a single opinion. Two of these cases are before us on a writ of certiorari. Petitioner Briscoe was convicted in state court of burglarizing a house trailer. He then filed a
Petitioners Vickers and Ballard were jointly tried and convicted of sexual assault in state court. They subsequently brought a civil action under
I
There are two reasons why
Second, since 1951, when this Court decided Tenney v. Brandhove, 341 U. S. 367, it has been settled that the all-encompassing language of
“It is by now well settled that the tort liability created by
§ 1983 cannot be understood in a historical vacuum. . . . One important assumption underlying the Court‘s decisions in this area is that members of the 42d Congress were familiar with common-law principles, including defenses previously recognized in ordinary tort litigation, and that they likely intended these common-law principles to obtain, absent specific provisions to the contrary.” City of Newport v. Fact Concerts, Inc., 453 U. S. 247, 258 (1981).
See Pierson v. Ray, 386 U. S. 547, 554 (1967).
The immunity of parties and witnesses from subsequent damages liability for their testimony in judicial proceedings9
Notes
In the words of one 19th-century court, in damages suits against witnesses, “the claims of the individual must yield to
At least with respect to private witnesses, it is clear that
II
The Court has already addressed the question whether
The central focus of our analysis has been the nature of the judicial proceeding itself. Thus, in his opinion concurring in the judgment in Imbler v. Pachtman, supra, JUSTICE WHITE explained that the absolute immunity of public prosecutors was “based on the policy of protecting the judicial process.”
“The reasons for this rule are also substantial. It is precisely the function of a judicial proceeding to determine where the truth lies. The ability of courts, under carefully developed procedures, to separate truth from falsity, and the importance of acсurately resolving factual disputes in criminal (and civil) cases are such that those involved in judicial proceedings should be ‘given every encouragement to make a full disclosure of all pertinent information within their knowledge.‘” Ibid.
The common law‘s protection for judges and prosecutors formed part of a “cluster of immunities protecting the various participants in judge-supervised trials,” which stemmed “from the characteristics of the judicial process.” Butz v. Economou, 438 U. S. 478, 512 (1978); cf. King v. Skinner, Lofft 54, 56, 98 Eng. Rep. 529 (K. B. 1772) (“[N]either party, witness, counsel, jury, or judge can be put to answer, civilly or criminally, for words spoken in office“). The common law recognized that
“controversies sufficiently intense to erupt in litigation are not easily capped by a judicial decree. The loser in one forum will frequently seek another . . . . Absolute immunity is thus necessary to assure that judges, advocates, and witnesses can perform their respective functions without harassment or intimidation.” Butz, supra, at 512.
In short, the common law provided absolute immunity from subsequent damages liability for all persons—governmental or otherwise—who were integral parts of the judicial process. It is equally clear that
III
Petitioners point to a number of references throughout the debates on the 1871 Act to widespread perjury by Ku Klux Klan witnesses in state criminal trials.16 They urge that, because perjury was one of the specific evils with which Congress was concerned, recognizing an absolute immunity for witnesses would conflict with congressional intent. We find this argument unpersuasive. The Act consisted of several sections establishing different remedies for disorder and violence in the Southern States.17 The legislative history and statutory language indicate that Congress intended perjury
The Ku Klux Act, 17 Stat. 13, was enacted on April 20, 1871, less than a month after President Grant sent a dramatic message to Congress describing the breakdown of law and order in the Southern States. Cong. Globe, 42d Cong., 1st Sess., 236, 244 (1871). During the debates, supporters of the bill repeatedly described the reign of terror imposed by the Klan upon black citizens and their white sympathizers in the Southern States. Hours of oratory were devoted to the details of Klan outrages—arson, robbery, whippings, shootings, murders, and other forms of violence and intimidation—often committed in disguise and under cover of night. These acts of lawlessness went unpunished, lеgislators asserted, because Klan members and sympathizers controlled or influenced the administration of state criminal justice. In particular, it was alleged that Klan members were obligated, by virtue of membership in the organization, to protect fellow members who were charged with criminal activity. They had a duty to offer themselves for service on grand and petit juries, and to violate their jurors’ oaths by refusing to indict or to convict regardless of the strength of the evidence. They also were bound to appear as witnesses, and again to violate their oaths by committing perjury, if necessary, to exculpate their Klan colleagues.18 Perjury was thus one of the
It is clear from the legislative debates that, in the view of the Act‘s sponsors, the victims of Klan outrages were deprived of “equal protection of the laws” if the perpetrators systematically went unpunished.19 Proponents of the measure repeatedly argued that, given the ineffectiveness of state law enforcement and the individual‘s federal right to “equal protection of the laws,” an independent federal remedy was necessary and Congress had the power to provide it.20 See Monroe v. Pape, 365 U. S. 167, 174 (1961).
Section 2 was designed specifically to provide criminal and civil remedies in federal court for the conspiratorial activities of the Klan. Indeed the provision singles out those who “go in disguise upon the public highway.” Earlier versions of the section enumerated precisely the activities that had been attributed to the Klan—murder, manslaughter, mayhem, robbery, assault and battery, perjury, subornation of pеrjury, criminal obstruction of legal process or resistance of of-
“conspire together . . . for the purpose of preventing or hindering the constituted authorities of any State from giving or securing to all persons within such State the equal protection of the laws, or shall conspire together for the purpose of in any manner impeding, hindering, obstructing, or defeating the due course of justice in any State or Territory, with intent to deny to any citizen of the United States the due and equal protection of the laws . . . .”22
This evidence does not, however, tend to show that Congress intended to abrogate witness immunity in civil actions under § 1, which applied to wrongs committed “under color of . . . law.” The bill‘s proponents were exclusively concerned with perjury resulting in unjust acquittals—perjury likely to be committed by private parties acting in furtherance of a conspiracy—and not with perjury committed “under color of
In summary, the legislative history supports criminal punishment under § 2 for a witness who conspired to give perjured testimony favorable to a defendant, with the effect of preventing effective enforcement of the laws, and liability in a civil suit against the perjured witness by the defendant‘s victim. But these are not the issues before us today. We are asked to extrapolate from pro-defendant perjury to pro-prosecution perjury, and if willing to make that step, we are further invited to apply legislative history relating to § 2—a section specifically directed toward private conspiracies—to § 1—a section designed to provide remedies for abuses under
IV
Petitioners, finally, urge that we should carve out an exception to the general rule of immunity in cases of alleged perjury by police officer witnesses.27 They assert that the reasons supporting common-law immunity—the need to
These contentions have some force. But our cases clearly indicate that immunity analysis rests on functional categories, not on the status of the defendant.28 A police officer on the witness stand performs the same functions as any other witness; he is subject to compulsory process, takes an oath, responds to questions on direct examination and cross-examination, and may be prosecuted subsequently for perjury.
Moreover, to the extent that traditional reasons for witness immunity are less applicable to governmental witnesses,
Section 1983 lawsuits against police officer witnesses, like lawsuits against prosecutors, “could be expected with some frequency.” Cf. Imbler v. Pachtman, 424 U. S., at 425. Police officers testify in scores of cases every year, and defendants often will transform resentment at being convicted into allegations of perjury by the State‘s official witnesses. As the files in this case show, even the processing of a complaint that is dismissed before trial consumes a considerable amount of time and resources.29
This category of
It is not sufficient to assert that the burdens on defendants and the courts could be alleviated by limiting the cause of action to those former criminal defendants who have already vindicated themselves in another forum, either on appeal or by collateral attack. We rejected a similar contention in Imbler. Petitioner contended that “his suit should be allowed, even if others would not be, because the District Court‘s issuance of the writ of habeas corpus shows that his suit has substance.” Id., at 428, n. 27. We declined to carve out such an exception to prosecutorial immunity, noting that petitioner‘s success in a collateral proceeding did not necessarily establish the merits of his civil rights action. Moreover, we noted that “using the habeas proceeding as a ‘door-opener’ for a subsequent civil rights action would create the risk of injecting extraneous concerns into that proceeding.” Ibid. We emphasized that, in determining whether to grant postconviction relief, the tribunal should focus solely on whether there was a fair trial under law. “This focus should not be blurred by even the subconscious knowledge that a post-trial decision in favor of the accused might result in the prosecutor‘s being called upon to respond in damages for his error or mistaken judgment.” Id., at 427. The same danger exists in the case of potential liability for police officer witnesses.30
“As is so often the case, the answer must be found in a balance between the evils inevitable in either alternative. In this instance it has been thought in the end better to leave unredressed the wrongs done by dishonest officers than to subject those who try to do their duty to the constant dread of retaliation.” Gregoire v. Biddle, 177 F.2d 579, 581 (CA2 1949), cert. denied, 339 U.S. 949 (1950).32
In short, the rationale of our prior absolute immunity cases governs the disposition of this case. In 1871, common-law immunity for witnesses was well settled. The principles set forth in Pierson v. Ray to protect judges and in Imbler v. Pachtman to protect prosecutors also apply to witnesses, who perform a somewhat different function in the trial process but whose participation in bringing the litigation to a
It is so ordered.
JUSTICE BRENNAN, dissenting.
JUSTICE MARSHALL‘S dissenting opinion, post, presents an eloquent argument that Congress, in enacting
I entirely agree with JUSTICE MARSHALL, however, that the policies of
JUSTICE MARSHALL, with whom JUSTICE BLACKMUN joins, except as to Part I, dissenting.
I cannot agree that police officers are absolutely immune from civil liability under
I
The majority opinion correctly states that this case presents a question of statutory construction. Ante, at 326. Yet it departs from generally accepted principles for interpreting laws.
In all other matters of statutory construction, this Court begins by focusing on the language of the statute itself.1 “Absent a clearly expressed legislative intention to the contrary, that language must ordinarily be regarded as conclusive.” Consumer Product Safety Comm‘n v. GTE Sylvania, Inc., 447 U.S. 102, 108 (1980). The language of
jority turns the conventional approach to statutory interpretation on its head. It assumes that common-law tort immunities provide an exemption from the plain language of the statute unless petitioners demonstrate that Congress meant to override the immunity. See ante, at 336. Thus, in the absence of a clearly expressed legislative intent to the contrary, the Court simply presumes that Congress did not mean what it said.
Absolute immunity for witnesses conflicts not only with the language of
“This аct is remedial, and in aid of the preservation of human liberty and human rights. All statutes and constitutional provisions authorizing such statutes are liberally and beneficently construed. It would be most strange and, in civilized law, monstrous were this not the rule of interpretation. As has been again and again decided by your own Supreme Court of the United States, and everywhere else where there is wise judicial
interpretation, the largest latitude consistent with the words employed is uniformly given in construing such statutes and constitutional provisions as are meant to protect and defend and give remedies for their wrongs to all the people.” Cong. Globe, 42d Cong., 1st Sess., App. 68 (1871).4
It might be appropriate to import common-law defenses and immunities into the statute if, in enacting
Given the language and purpose of
II
The majority‘s decision is predicated on its conclusion that “[i]n 1871, common-law immunity for witnesses was well settled.” Ante, at 345. I disagree with this view of the law as it stood when Congress enacted
To begin with, some of petitioners’ allegations would clearly not have been barred by doctrines of immunity at common law. The majority discusses only the immunities associated with actions for defamation at common law. Ante, at 330-331, n. 9. However, petitioner Briscoe did not allege solely that Officer LaHue had testified falsely at his trial, a claim resembling one for defamation. He also alleged that Officer LaHue had made knowingly false charges at two probable-cause hearings, one of which resulted in Briscoe‘s arrest.6 At common law, such an allegation would have
Even with respect to the common-law action for defamation which the majority discusses, I cannot agree that an absolute immunity for witnesses was well-settled law in 1871. In 1845, this Court had rejected both the rule of absolute im-
In White v. Nicholls, 3 How. 266 (1845), Justice Daniel wrote for a unanimous Court in dicta a veritable treatise on the law of defamation and privileged communications.11 The Court began by noting the existence of various exceptions “which, in the elementary treatises, and in the decisions upon libel and slander, have been denominated privileged communications or publications.” Id., at 286. One of these “exceptions” was for “[w]ords used in the course of a legal or judicial proceeding, however hard they may bear upon the party of whom they are used.” Id., at 287. The Court then stated:
“But the term ‘exceptions,’ as applied to cases like those just enumerated, could never be interpreted to mean that there is a class of actors or transactions placed above the cognisance of the law, absolved from the commands of justice. It is difficult to conceive how, in society where rights and duties are relative and mutual, there can be tolerated those who are privileged to do injury legibus soluti; and still more difficult to imagine, how such a privilege could be instituted or tolerated upon the principles of social good. The privilege spoken of in the books should, in our opinion, be taken with strong and well-defined qualificаtions. It properly signifies this, and nothing more. That the excepted instances shall so far change the ordinary rule with respect to slanderous or libellous matter, as to remove the regular and usual presumption of malice, and to make it incumbent on the party complaining to show malice, either by the construction of the spoken or written matter, or by the facts and circumstances connected with that matter, or with the situation of the parties, adequate to authorize the conclusion.” Ibid. (emphasis added).
“With respect to words used in a course of judicial proceeding, it has been ruled that they are protected by the occasion, and cannot form the foundation of an action of slander without proof of express malice; . . . in the case of Hodgson v. Scarlett, 1 Barn. & Ald. 247, it is said by Holroyd, J., speaking of the words of counsel in the argument of a cause, ‘If they be fair comments upon the evidence, and relevant to the matter in issue, then unless malice be shown, the occasion justifies them. If, however, it be proved that they were not spoken bona fide, or express malice be shown, then they may be actionable.‘” Id., at 288 (emphasis added).13
If Congress in 1871 actually examined the subject of common-law witness immunity, it could hardly have overlooked White v. Nicholls since that case was the sole pronouncement on the subject from the highest Court in the land. Congress might well have concluded—as did the Tennessee Supreme Court in 1871—that the principles enunciated in White were “settled law.” Saunders v. Baxter, 53 Tenn. 369, 383. In an age when federal common law prevailed, see Swift v. Tyson, 16 Pet. 1 (1842), a Supreme Court decision would have been the natural focus for a Congress establishing a federal remedy which was accompanied by a new grant of federal jurisdiction.14 In short, the most salient feature in the
III
The majority‘s decision is also predicated on its conclusion that there is “no evidence that Congress intended to abrogate the traditional common-law witness immunity in
A
At petitioners’ urging,16 the Court has extensively examined the legislative history of § 2 of the 1871 Ku Klux Klan Act, 17 Stat. 13, now codified as
The origin of § 1 is not open to serious question. The language and concept of the provision were derived in large part from § 2 of the Civil Rights Act of 1866, 14 Stat. 27.17 The author of § 1 clearly stated the relationship between the two Acts in introducing the 1871 measure:
“My first inquiry is as to the warrant which we have for enacting such a section as this [§ 1 of the 1871 Act]. The model for it will be found in the second section of the act of April 9, 1866, known as the ‘civil rights act.’ That section provides a criminal proceeding in identically the same case as this one provides a civil remedy for, except that the deprivation under color of State law must, under the civil rights act, have been on account of race, color, or former slavery. This section of the bill, on the same state of facts, not only provides a civil remedy for
persons whose former condition may have been that of slaves, but also to all people where, under color of State law, they or any of them may be deprived of rights to which they are entitled under the Constitution by reason and virtue of their national citizenship.” Cong. Globe, 42d Cong., 1st Sess., App. 68 (1871) (emphasis added).
Because the two provisions are so intimately connected, a full examination of the history of § 1 of the 1871 Act must begin with § 2 of the 1866 Act.
B
The Civil Rights Act of 1866 was the first federal statute to provide broad protection in the field of civil rights. Its primary purpose was to guarantee the newly emancipated Negro equality with whites before the law. Section 2 of the Act provided criminal liability for any person who, acting under color of law, deprived another of his rights because of race. This provision was extensively debated. Controversy centered in large part over its intended application to state officials integral to the judicial process.
The liability of state judicial officials and all official participants in state judicial proceedings under § 2 was explicitly and repeatedly affirmed.18 The notion of immunity for such officials was thoroughly discredited. The Senate sponsor of
Two unsuccessful efforts were made to amend § 2. First, Representative Miller introduced an amendment to exempt state judges from criminal liability. Id., at 1156. Second, and of particular significance, Representative Bingham introduced an amendment to substitute a civil action for the criminal sanctions contained in the proposal. Id., at 1266, 1271-1272. The sponsor of the 1866 Act, Representative Wilson, opposed the amendment largely on the ground that it would place the financial burden of protecting civil rights on poor individuals instead of on the government. Id., at 1295. At the same time he stressed that there was “no difference in the principle involved” between a civil remedy and a criminal sanction. Ibid.
After the 1866 bill passed the Senate and House, President Andrew Johnson vetoed it. His opposition was based in part on the fact that § 2 of the bill “invades the judicial power of the State.” Veto Message, in id., at 1680. The President warned that “judges of the State courts . . . [and] marshals and sheriffs, who should, as ministerial officers, execute processes, sanctioned by State laws and issued by State judges, in execution of their judgments, could be brought before other tribunals and there subjected to fine and imprisonment for the performance of the duties which such state laws might impose.” Ibid. Within two weeks, both the Senate and the House overrode the veto. Various Congressmen responded to the President‘s criticisms and freely admitted that § 2 of the legislation was aimed at state judicial systems. As a member of the House Judiciary Committee, Representative
C
This Court has from time to time read
Congress was well aware that the “model” for § 1 of the 1871 law could be found in the 1866 Civil Rights Act. Cong. Globe, 42d Cong., 1st Sess., App. 68 (1871) (Rep. Shellabarger). The manager of the bill in the Senate, George Edmunds, stressed that § 1 was merely “carrying out the principles of the civil rights bill” that had been passed in 1866. Id., at 568. Representative Coburn stated that § 1 “gives a civil remedy parallel to the penal provision” in the Civil Rights Act. “If this penal section is valid, and no one dares controvert it, the civil remedy is legal and unquestionable.” Id., at 461. See also id., at 429 (Rep. McHenry in opposi-
The fact that § 2 of the Civil Rights Act was the model for § 1 of the 1871 Act explains why the debates in the 42d Congress on § 1 were so perfunctory.21 Of all the measures in the Ku Klux Klan Act, § 1 generated the least controversy since it merely provided a civil counterpart to the far more controversial criminal provision in the 1866 Act. See id., at 568 (Sen. Edmunds) (“The first section is one that I believe nobody objects to“); id., at App. 313 (Rep. Burchard) (“To the first section, giving an injured party redress by suit at law in the United States courts in the cases enumerаted, I can see no objections“); Monell v. New York City Dept. of Social Services, 436 U.S., at 665 (debate on § 1 was limited and the section passed without amendment); Developments in the Law—Section 1983 and Federalism, 90 Harv. L. Rev. 1133, 1155 (1977).
Opponents of § 1 of the 1871 Act repeated the same arguments that had been made against § 2 of the 1866 Act. They warned of the liability for judicial officers that would result from enactment of § 1.22 Indeed, in portraying the inevitable consequences of the 1871 Act, Senator Thurman pointed to criminal prosecutions of state judicial officers that had already taken place under the 1866 Act.23 These statements can hardly be dismissed as exaggerated rhetoric from opponents of the 1871 Act. Instead, they simply reflect the fact that the battle over liability for those integral to the judicial process had already been fought in 1866 when Congress
To assume that Congress, which had enacted a criminal sanction directed against state judicial officials,26 intended sub silentio to exempt those same officials from the civil counterpart approaches the incredible.27 Sheriffs and marshals, while performing a quintessentially judicial function such as serving process, were clearly liable under the 1866 Act, notwithstanding President Johnson‘s objections. Be-
D
The lack of historical support for witness immunity sharply contrasts with the substantial historical support for legislative immunity which this Court recognized in Tenney v. Brandhove, 341 U.S. 367 (1951), a case on which the majority relies. Ante, at 330, 334. Legislative immunity enjoyed a unique historical position since it had been conceived in the Parliamentary struggles of the 17th century and enshrined in the Speech and Debate Clause of the Constitution. The vast majority of States had adopted constitutional provisions providing a parallel protection against civil and criminal liability. See 341 U. S., at 372-375.
Moreover, the history of § 1 supports incorporation of legislative immunity. For example, when the specter of holding state legislators liable under § 2 of the 1866 Act was raised by President Johnson‘s veto message,28 the Senate sponsor of the Act was quick to disavow any such intention. Senator Trumbull argued at some length that legislators did not fall within the scope of the Act because they “enact” laws rather than act “under color of” state law.29 Whatever the validity of this distinction, it no doubt reflected the reluctance of Congress to impinge on the immunity of state legislators. But while the Radical Republican Congress was a “staunch advocate of legislative freedom,” 341 U. S., at 376, it displayed no solicitude for state courts.30 The debates over the 1871 Act are replete with hostile comments directed at state judicial
IV
The majority also bases its decision on considerations of public policy, which purportedly mandate absolute immunity for police officers sued under
Police officers and other government officials differ significantly from private citizens, around whom common-law doctrines of witness immunity developed. A police officer comes to the witness stand clothed with the authority of the State. His official status gives him credibility and creates a far greater potential for harm than exists when the average citizen testifies.34 The situation is aggravated when the official draws on special expertise. A policeman testifying about a fingerprint identification or a medical examiner testifying as to the cause of a death can have a critical impact on a defendant‘s trial.35 At the same time, the threat of a criminal perjury prosecution, which serves as an important constraint on the average witness’ testimony, is virtually nonexistent in the police-witness context. Despite the apparent prevalence of police perjury,36 prosecutors exhibit extreme
reluctance in charging police officials with criminal conduct because of their need to maintain close working relationships with law enforcement agencies.37 The majority thus forecloses a civil sanction in precisely those situations where the need is most pressing.
Moreover, the danger that official witnesses would be inhibited in testifying by the fear of a damages action is much more remote than would be the case with private witnesses. Policemen normally have a duty to testify about matters involving their official conduct. The notion that officials with a professional interest in securing criminal convictions would shade their testimony in favor of a defendant to avoid the risk of a civil suit can only be viewed with skepticism. In addition, police officials are usually insulated from any economic hardship associated with lawsuits based on conduct within the scope of their authority.38 In any event, if the Court truly desires to give police officers ” ‘every encouragement to make a full disclosure of all pertinent information within their knowledge,’ ” ante, at 335 (quoting Imbler v. Pachtman, 424 U.S., at 439 (WHITE, J., concurring in judgment)), then at the very least it should permit
The majority‘s primary concern appears to be that
In considering the competing interests at stake in this area, the majority strikes a very one-sided balance. It eschews any qualified immunity in favor of an absolute one. Thus, the mere inquiry into good faith is deemed so undesirable that we must simply acquiesce in the possibility that government officials will maliciously deprive citizens of their rights.45 For my part, I cannot conceive in this case how patent violations of individual rights can be tolerated in the name of the public good. “The very essence of civil liberty certainly consists in the right of every individual to claim the protections of the laws, whenever he receives an injury.” Marbury v. Madison, 1 Cranch 137, 163 (1803).
V
For all of the above reasons, I believe that the majority has failed to sustain the heavy burden required to justify an immunity so plainly at odds with the language and purpose of
JUSTICE BLACKMUN, dissenting.
I join all of JUSTICE MARSHALL‘S dissenting opinion except Part I. I cannot join its Part I, for I adhere to the views I expressed for the Court in City of Newport v. Fact Concerts, Inc., 453 U.S. 247, 258-259 (1981), regarding the role played by history and policy in determining whether
In my view, JUSTICE MARSHALL‘S dissent convincingly demonstrates that the Court finds little support for its decision in the present case either in the language of the statute, the history of the common law, the relevant legislative history, or policy considerations.
I therefore dissent.
The action for malicious prosecution grew out of the related action for conspiracy. As early as 1293, various statutes were enacted to aid persons who had been falsely and maliciously indicted or accused of crimes by conspiracy among the defendants. In such cases a writ of conspiracy was employed in seeking redress. By the 16th century, this action was replaced by an action on the case in the nature of a conspiracy, but the allegation of a conspiracy was soon treated as surplusage. The result was an action on the case. See M. Bigelow, Leading Cases on the Law of Torts 190-191 (1875); 1 T. Street, The Foundations of Legal Liability 328-329 (1906); 2 W. Holdsworth, A History of English Law 366 (4th ed. 1936).