Leading article: Redemption, rehabilitation and basic human rights

No one can feel anything but the utmost sympathy for Frances Lawrence and her family. Her husband was a respected headmaster, a pillar of his community. He was killed trying to shield a pupil who became involved in a fight outside the school gate. His death changed the lives of his wife and family forever. So it is not hard to appreciate the shock and hurt that engulfed Mrs Lawrence when she learnt that her husband's killer, Learco Chindamo, had won an appeal to stay in Britain after his release. Recommended for deportation to Italy on completion of his sentence, Chindamo recently challenged the order through his solicitor. The Immigration and Asylum Tribunal found in his favour, and he could be freed as early as next year.

Mrs Lawrence said she was "devastated". The popular press worked itself up into a lather of righteous indignation. The Police Federation described the ruling as "ludicrous"; a Home Office minister, Tony McNulty, said that Chindamo had forfeited his right to live in Britain by committing a "heinous" crime. The Justice Secretary, Jack Straw, promises a "robust" appeal.

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As so often, however, the vehemence of the indignation is in inverse proportion to the merits of the case. This is far from being the open-and-shut duel between good and evil it might appear. Chindamo was 15 when he killed Philip Lawrence. A child of an unusually troubled background, he had been in Britain since the age of six. It would be quite wrong to equate his situation with that of an asylum-seeker or economic migrant who might arguably be deemed to have a "contract" with Britain that he "forfeited" through criminality. His only link with Italy then, as now, is his passport.

In fact, Chindamo's status as an EU citizen, along with the length of his residence in this country, calls into question whether he can be deported at all, in principle or in practice. There are legal grey areas here, which may be explored if and when the Home Office appeals, but deporting an EU citizen is problematical because freedom of movement is guaranteed.

The supposed blame attached to the Human Rights Act - the common fall-guy when deportation of foreign offenders is broached - is also completely spurious. Whatever its detractors may say, the Human Rights Act does not protect the rights of serial law-breakers more zealously than those of law-abiding victims. Nor is the recognition of rights a zero-sum game. Mrs Lawrence may feel insulted, but allowing Chindamo to stay in Britain does not violate her rights, or those of her family in any way.

It might seem cruel and unfeeling to say so, but the dilemma facing Mrs Lawrence in the wake of the tribunal's ruling is no different from the one that confronts every victim of crime on the day that the person who so damaged their lives is released. Mrs Lawrence appears to have believed that the lawless 15-year-old would never reappear in her world. Had his passport been British, rather than Italian, she would have had to prepare for the likelihood that one day he would be free.

It is no exaggeration to describe this as a test case for the liberal conscience. Chindamo has lived in Britain for most of his life. He was a juvenile offender who is said to have turned his life around since, becoming a model prisoner and a mentor to younger offenders. A prison system worth its name must have not just punishment as its objective, but rehabilitation and redemption. A just society must give reformed criminals, even killers, the chance to repay their debt. It is hard to find fault with the ruling of the tribunal. We fear that any move to reverse it will reflect political expediency, not the law.