Prisoners’ religious freedoms are protected by law, but some inmates have been denied this basic right.
Prisoners’ religious freedoms are protected by law, but some inmates have been denied this basic right.
A mid the hullabaloo over hot-button Supreme Court cases such as 303 Creative LLC v. Elenis and talk of ritual animal sacrifice, one religious-liberty issue continues to get overlooked: the conscience rights of the incarcerated. While prison reform has garnered a lot of attention in recent years from both the Left and the Right, the discussion has skipped over the ability of prisoners to exercise the most basic of fundamental rights.
Trying to change that, two lawyers have taken on the case of pro bono client Damon Landor, who served time in Louisiana for drug possession before being released in early 2021. While he was an inmate, Landor, a devout Rastafarian, had his head forcibly shaved. Landor adheres to the biblical Nazarite Vow, which forbids, among other things, cutting one’s hair. Before his rights were violated, he hadn’t cut his hair in over 20 years.
Landor is contesting a lower court’s decision that he is not entitled to damages under the Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act (RLUIPA), which safeguards the religious freedom of incarcerated persons. Yet his case was dismissed on the theory that RLUIPA does not permit damages against prison officials.
Zack Tripp, one of the lawyers representing Landor, explained the shocking facts of the case to National Review: “In 2017, the United States Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit directed Louisiana that it must grant religious exceptions and allow Rastafarian men like Mr. Landor to keep their dreadlocks in prison. Yet, when Mr. Landor handed that decision to the prison officials just weeks before his release, they tossed the court’s opinion, shackled him to the table, and had him shaven completely bald. Mr. Landor’s allegations show that, without a damages remedy, Congress’s protections and the court’s decisions interpreting those protections aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on. No damages means no accountability.”
A Louisiana Department of Corrections spokesman acknowledged that detainees can ask for a religious exemption to prison regulations but made no further comment.
Tripp says stories like Landor’s are what motivate him and colleague Josh Halpern, both of the Weil, Gotshal & Manges law firm, to “represent formerly incarcerated people of faith in states across the country who have been subjected to similar abuses in prison.”
Another case, Walker v. Baldwin, also involves a devout Rastafarian whose dreadlocks were cut off against his will. Walker told the Illinois prison officials repeatedly that his dreadlocks were a protected exercise of religion, but they repeatedly instructed Walker that his dreadlocks must be removed; eventually, they brought a tactical unit to his cell to carry out the haircut. His case, too, was dismissed because he was released from prison, and the court said RLUIPA doesn’t allow damages claims. State-prison officials in other jurisdictions have also removed the beards and dreadlocks of Muslim and Rastafarian inmates; refused to provide detainees with kosher, halal, or other foods in keeping with religious dietary laws; and prohibited them from wearing hijabs, yarmulkes, and other head coverings. “Congress passed RLUIPA to prevent precisely these sorts of abuses,” says Tripp. “But if courts can’t award damages for official misconduct under the statute, then prison officials can’t be held accountable, and the misconduct will continue to go unchecked.”
RLUIPA isn’t only relevant for the imprisoned. It is a critical statute for religious practitioners everywhere. RLUIPA also provides religious institutions with a means of circumventing restrictive zoning-law limits on their use of real estate. That is why Landor’s case has broader implications and should attract support from all those who care about religious freedom.