Phillip Leishman claims "there is no mercy for the wicked." But the double murderer still dubs himself a sincere and faithful adherent of a pagan religion and is asking for a measure of mercy himself.
Leishman is suing Utah prison officials over their ban on his runes -- a set of 24 small wooden tablets with ancient mystical symbols carved on them -- saying the objects are essential to the practice of his religion.
Corrections authorities, though, are standing firm. They say the tablets could be used to practice magic and frighten other inmates, to plan escapes through coded communication and to gamble.
The dispute is pending in federal court, where a magistrate recently recommended that most of Leishman's claims of civil rights violations be thrown out but that one claim be heard. Magistrate Sam Alba, in response to a motion by the Department of Corrections for judgment in its favor, said Leishman's contention that the federal Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act (RLUIPA) supports his right to runes should get a hearing.
The RLUIPA prohibits prison officials from imposing a "substantial burden" on the religious exercise of an inmate unless it is to further a compelling government interest and it is done in the least restrictive way possible.
Leishman, who is serving a minimum of 40 years behind bars and is representing himself in the suit, says he is a follower of a branch of Asatru, a pagan religion of pre-Christian northern Europeans, according to court papers. In 2001, he sued Department of Corrections officials after they prohibited him from having a rune set in his maximum-security cell.
Runes are used by religious practitioners and by nonpractitioners who want a tool to help them meditate, according to Rauni, the manager of Gypsy Moon Emporium, a Salt Lake City shop that sells books, jewelry and objects from ancient and modern Celtic culture.
Rauni, who goes by just one name, said runes enjoyed a boom in popularity about a decade ago as a way to divine a message or make a decision.
"The runes are deep," she said. "They don't give a quick answer. You have to ponder."
In response to Leishman's suit, prison authorities have said runes are not essential to practice the Asatru faith and the ban promotes prison safety. The tablets could be used for fortunetelling, possibly causing inmates to attack fellow prisoners they believe have cast a spell on them, they claim.
In addition, prisoners could use the tablets to secretly communicate and to gamble, they said.
But Alba said in a May 27 report there is no evidence the runes could help inmates use the runic alphabet to talk to each other. And he wrote that while an Asatru fortuneteller might offend another inmate because of a "spell," he added that "an evangelical Christian inmate could just as easily offend others with their prophecies and preaching."
The magistrate did say the set could be used for gambling but that Corrections officials have failed to show a total ban on runes is the least restrictive way to avoid the problem.
Alba's recommendation has been forwarded to U.S. District Judge Tena Campbell, who will make a ruling later.
Leishman, 26, pleaded guilty in 1998 to two counts of capital murder and was sentenced to life in prison with the possibility of parole. He admitted shooting two men in January 1997 at the request of a teenage friend who was angry over the theft of her car and asked him to "put the hurt" on the suspects. The victims had not stolen the vehicle.
Last year, Leishman wrote a letter to The Salt Lake Tribune ridiculing a former judge's request for an early release from his jail sentence, saying that "there is no mercy for the wicked, and you of all people should know this all too well."