The Individuals on Death Row

The execution of Troy Davis by lethal injection is a sad moment in the history of the American justice system; it taps into what is perhaps the strongest argument that can be deployed against capital punishment: what if the courts get it wrong? Davis was convicted twenty years ago on evidence that has looked increasingly dubious in the time since. Guilt must be ‘beyond reasonable doubt’. In Davis’s case, there was doubt. Lots of it. And it was reasonable. Since the conviction, seven of the nine witnesses have rescinded their statements, and jurors have admitted doubts about their verdict; there was no DNA evidence linking Davis to the murder, and no gun was found at the scene. One witness even claims to have heard another man (Sylvester Coles, a witness for the prosecution) admit to the crime. The family of Mark Allen MacPhail insist that Davis is guilty, but they cannot in any way be regarded as impartial. There is a reason that victims and their family members do not decide either on guilt or on the sentence of convicts: people want revenge, or closure, they think that a life for a life will make them feel better. Perhaps it will, but that is not how the criminal justice system works, thankfully.

So people are asking why, in the face of so much doubt, an appeal was not granted, even by the Supreme Court. Surely, if judges were so sure of his guilt, granting an appeal and demonstrating this more conclusively could only have served to vindicate the execution, if only in the eyes of those who support the death penalty. The judicial system has more to fear from Davis’s execution than it would have from another hearing: and if he had been found not-guilty, well then, the system would have done its job in righting a serious miscarriage of justice. Members of the African-American community are depicting this as a race issue: a black man was hastily convicted on now-questionable grounds for the murder of a white police officer; black witnesses were pressured into giving evidence against the suspect. Instead of tackling this criticism head on by allowing an appeal, and demonstrating that there is truth in the principle that all are equal before the law, the Supreme Court forced Davis and his family to endure another few hours of uncertainty whilst it debated whether or not to grant his lawyers’ request.

The death penalty is morally repugnant (that is the strongest phrase I can think of) because no one has the right to take the life of another human being: it is playing God, and I don’t even believe in God; or it is making the state the same cold-blooded murderer as the individual it kills. But sometimes I wonder, wouldn’t it be kinder just to kill them? Troy Davis’s execution was scheduled four times, and in 2008 it was stayed just 90 minutes before it was due to take place. On 20^th September Cleve Foster received a stay of execution hours before he was due to die, and this for the third time. Surely it is inhumane to put him through that stress again and again, to make him prepare himself for death only to tell him that he has a few more rounds of appeal to endure, days, months, years longer waiting for the final judgement, as much as it would be to actually kill him. Under international law mock executions are a form of torture; coming this close to the real thing is no different.

Troy Davis’s execution brings the question of continuing racial tensions in Georgia to light, it demonstrates the care that the courts absolutely must take in handing down sentences when capital punishment is involved, and it highlights the horror of last-hour reprieves. This case has touched so many people so deeply because they came to identify with Davis as an individual; all the men and women on death row, guilty or not-guilty, are individuals.

DSK and sexual assault

The prosecution withdrew the case against Dominique Strauss-Kahn and he has apologised for his ‘moral failing’, in other words, for his extra-marital dalliance. Perhaps this was sex, (not so) pure and simple, in which case, we can only feel sorry for their respective partners and butt the hell out of the whole sordid business. Serious doubts surround the credibility of his accuser, Nafissatou Diallo, and for this reason the charges were dropped. It may well be true that Diallo was not sexually assaulted; indeed, under the principle of justice that regards the defendant as ‘innocent until proven guilty’ this is what we must believe. However, the conviction, and especially the prosecution, rate for sexual assault and rape is frighteningly low (in the UK it is estimated that perhaps 95% of rapes go unreported), making cases such as this deeply concerning for victims. No one, not even DSK, is denying that a sexual alliance took place, and photographs of Diallo’s bruised vagina were produced by the prosecution. But she is unreliable: she has lied about being sexually abused in the past. What are the victims of sexual assault to make of this?

It has been argued (http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/crime/7442785/Rape-conviction-rate-figures-misleading.html – and I am no natural Telegraph reader) that statistics highlighting the difficulty of acquiring a conviction in rape cases discourage women (and men) from coming forwards, and if this is true, then such a high-profile incident as this can only reinforce such reluctance. After all, who would want to go through with the trauma of a court case (standing in the witness box under any circumstances is said to be a terrifying experience) if they believe that their attacker will, in the end, walk free and innocent? It is not preventing French journalist Tristane Banon from pursuing her accusation against the former IMF chief for attempted rape. Good, unless of course she is discredited too.

And there is of course another issue: that of what constitutes sexual assault, and how to protect victims from psychological rather than physical abuse. DSK’s lawyers argue that Diallo’s continuation of a civil case against him indicates that she is primarily concerned with a possible monetary compensation, one of the arguments deployed to demonstrate that she is not a credible witness. If this is true, it would be a sad thing for rape victims for their plight to be so belittled by a mercenary. But even if the encounter was ostensibly consensual, it cannot be denied that the Frenchman was in a position of power over the chambermaid. Perhaps she did use ‘feminine wiles’ to lure him into bed in order to sue him for his cash. But equally likely, he forced himself upon her (even if not in a literal, physical sense) by virtue of his wealth and status. Banon’s accusation suggests that he is not the innocent target of a slanderous and gold-digging plot that some of his political supporters would have him, and it is essential that rape victims everywhere are not discouraged from coming forwards as a result of the affair.

Commemoration

There are a plethora of films about 9/11 on TV. My brother quipped that it is like showing Love Actually at Christmas, which seemed insensitive. But I think he is right: it does feel strange to be watching actors recreate the scenes at the World Trade Center, especially if the lead is played by someone as wooden as Nicholas Cage, even when Oliver Stone is the director. It seems to diminish the horror of the event, and the lives of those that died on that date and in the wars since, be they American, British, or Arab: not the film, but showing it on 9/11; like Miracle on 34th Street, or horror flicks at Hallowe'en.