The old lion has closed his eyes, the world of justice is in deep mourning and lawyers' robes are blacker than ever. Henri Leclerc died at the age of 90 on Saturday, August 31, in Paris, after 70 years at the bar and as many years stubbornly defending freedoms. Leclerc was one of the last giants of his time, and when rumors spread in courts or tribunals that he was going to argue a case, colleagues, judges and students would quietly slip into the courtroom to learn from the old master.

He stood there, with a gentle smile, a reassuring heavy figure in his worn robe, white hair and a voice that was warm, confident and friendly, flowing like a river. Leclerc didn't argue; he spoke as a friend, sharing his doubts, certainties and questions with simple words and great geniality. People listened and joined him in his emotional journey, through both justice and injustice. "Even in the most hostile environments, he managed to envelop the room with his presence, with his whole being – it was physical," said Thierry Lévy, another great lawyer with a colder style who passed away in 2017. "He conveyed to the jurors: 'Here's a decent man! Anyone he defends can't be all that bad.'"

However, the lawyer also knew how to present a formidable defense, and his cross-examinations were merciless. He would await the witness's, expert's or police officer's response, with a report in hand while chewing on the arm of his glasses – fully aware of the defense principle that a lawyer should only ask questions to which he already knows the answers. The unfortunate individual being grilled would quickly become tangled in contradictions, and the old lion would deliver a devastating swipe that left them trembling and bloodied, their testimony forever ruined. Leclerc would then calmly return to his seat with a half-smile, ready for the next one.

Young Leclerc's first encounter with the law came at the age of 11, in October 1945, after his father's anger at the trial of Pierre Laval. His father, a tax official, was repulsed by the mastermind behind the collaboration with Germany. He was outraged by the farcical trial of the former government leader, who was shot after a suicide attempt. The public prosecutor's statement that "Mr. Laval's days are no longer in danger," before dragging him half-dead before the firing squad, left a deep impression on the young boy.

Three years later, Leclerc senior handed his son the book by Laval's appointed lawyer, Albert Naud, entitled Pourquoi Je n'ai pas Défendu Pierre Laval ("Why I Did Not Defend Pierre Laval," 1948) – which explains why he was ultimately unable to defend him. The young student at Lycée Lakanal in Sceaux, south of Paris, was deeply affected. "How could I forget that lesson?" he wrote in 2017. "It left an indelible trace on me, a deep emotional impact, like a wound, which I have felt again every time I've experienced that profound indignation and anger in the face of justice when it fails to uphold its honor."

You have 86.68% of this article left to read. The rest is for subscribers only.