21-09-2011, 07:46 AM
Troy Davis and the History of Injustice in America
The history of justice in America is pocked with such deep institutional injustices that time and again we make a mockery of the word. From slavery to the War on Drugs, the powerful have trampled time and again on the weak.
Law and order masquerade as justice, and our prisons fill to the brim with young men, mostly black and Hispanic, mostly poor. Meanwhile, inner cities lie like sunken ruins across the wealthiest nation in the history of civilization, stomped upon by drug warriors and poverty and violence.
And though we accept the limitations of our government and of the good judgment of our leaders, we nevertheless believe in the infallibility of this system we call justice, but which is not justice, to hand down the most final sort of judgment a man could ever know.
Troy Davis, convicted over two decades ago of killing an off-duty cop, though much doubt has been cast upon his guilt and the methods which police and prosecutors used to secure his conviction, will be executed by the state of Georgia tomorrow. The Georgia Board of Pardons and Paroles has denied him clemency, and there are no other avenues left to save him.
In the end, I am not concerned so much with whether or not Davis is guilty or innocent. I am concerned with the uncertainty of his guilt. "I'm not for blood. I'm for justice," said the mother of the slain police officer. But we extract one or the other, not both. In a case where the blood may be that of an innocent, how can we call it justice?
Death is tragic. The death of Mark MacPhail is a tragedy that will never be undone. Not by blood, not by prison bars, not by time, not by proof that Davis is guilty or proof that he is innocent. But if we have even a glimmer of doubt about his guilt, there will be no justice in his death. If we have even a hint of uncertainty over whether this man did the deeds he was accused of, but which most of his accusers have since recanted, we should stay his execution.
But the history of justice in America is scarred across by such tragedies.
The history of justice in America is pocked with such deep institutional injustices that time and again we make a mockery of the word. From slavery to the War on Drugs, the powerful have trampled time and again on the weak.
Law and order masquerade as justice, and our prisons fill to the brim with young men, mostly black and Hispanic, mostly poor. Meanwhile, inner cities lie like sunken ruins across the wealthiest nation in the history of civilization, stomped upon by drug warriors and poverty and violence.
And though we accept the limitations of our government and of the good judgment of our leaders, we nevertheless believe in the infallibility of this system we call justice, but which is not justice, to hand down the most final sort of judgment a man could ever know.
Troy Davis, convicted over two decades ago of killing an off-duty cop, though much doubt has been cast upon his guilt and the methods which police and prosecutors used to secure his conviction, will be executed by the state of Georgia tomorrow. The Georgia Board of Pardons and Paroles has denied him clemency, and there are no other avenues left to save him.
In the end, I am not concerned so much with whether or not Davis is guilty or innocent. I am concerned with the uncertainty of his guilt. "I'm not for blood. I'm for justice," said the mother of the slain police officer. But we extract one or the other, not both. In a case where the blood may be that of an innocent, how can we call it justice?
Death is tragic. The death of Mark MacPhail is a tragedy that will never be undone. Not by blood, not by prison bars, not by time, not by proof that Davis is guilty or proof that he is innocent. But if we have even a glimmer of doubt about his guilt, there will be no justice in his death. If we have even a hint of uncertainty over whether this man did the deeds he was accused of, but which most of his accusers have since recanted, we should stay his execution.
But the history of justice in America is scarred across by such tragedies.
"Let me issue and control a nation's money and I care not who writes the laws. - Mayer Rothschild
"Civil disobedience is not our problem. Our problem is civil obedience! People are obedient in the face of poverty, starvation, stupidity, war, and cruelty. Our problem is that grand thieves are running the country. That's our problem!" - Howard Zinn
"If there is no struggle there is no progress. Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and never will" - Frederick Douglass
"Civil disobedience is not our problem. Our problem is civil obedience! People are obedient in the face of poverty, starvation, stupidity, war, and cruelty. Our problem is that grand thieves are running the country. That's our problem!" - Howard Zinn
"If there is no struggle there is no progress. Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and never will" - Frederick Douglass