The Body Is The Last To Sigh

Since the execution of Ronald Ryan in Australia we have been a country strongly opposed to the death penalty. The collective memory of those who were alive at the time of his hanging is so influential that many would equate it as the single greatest turning point in political and social thought in Australia.

I recently attended a panel discussion, organised by Reprieve Australia and hosted by DLA Phillips Fox, that involved a speaker by the name of Brian Morley, who was one of the journalists that was invited to witness Ryan's execution. He spoke at length about the political background of Ryan's execution, the massive protests and the desperate attempts of his lawyers to stay his execution. He told us about the invitation to witness the execution that he received, and recalled that it seemed almost like a cocktail party invite. He remembers sitting in the press room with the other journalists, smoking cigarettes, drinking coffee and talking feverishly about the news they would soon have to report on. However, his tone of voice changed drastically when he spoke of what he witnessed. After his hanging there was almost perfect silence in the press room, except for one reporter who was throwing up in the corner. Some men in the media room have since passed away, some committed suicide and the others refuse to speak of what they witnessed. Brian Morley told us this story as he choked back tears; "No one should suffer the way that man suffered." It was incredibly powerful watching a man like Morley, well into his 60's with a sturdy build and strong presence, failing to hold back the tears spurred on by a single moment in his life that had long past.

His pain was emphasised by the words of another speaker, Andrea Durbach, who told about her nervous breakdown nearly 10 years after she saved a large group of African men sentenced to death for the murder of only 1 man based on the doctrine of "common purpose". Even though she had been successful, she was so torn by the experience that she suffered from post-traumatic stress. A friend of hers told her that "The body is the always the last to sigh..." and that it was simply her body catching up with her mind. That her experiences could make such an incredibly powerful impact on her life 10 years later only serves to highlight the mental anguish she must have buried during the appeal process.

The daughter of George Hodson, the prison officer shot and killed by Ronald Ryan during his escape, then also spoke of the great pain the entire event had caused her over the last 40 years. She spoke of her forgiveness for the family of Ryan, specifically his daughter, and about the suffering she must have gone through when her father was executed. It seemed so clear and so tragic what these two women had in common. They had both lost their fathers at a young age and the both understood one another's suffering. The consequences of their fathers' deaths, although directly linked, could not have been more different, yet the two women were united through their pain. Both of them realised that all Ryan's execution had achieved was to compound the suffering of others, and do nothing to alleviate their own, while even Hodson and his colleagues still suffer to this day.

As we move further and further away from 1967, and as that day slips back into the recesses of our memory, we are more likely to forget the reasons behind why we are a nation that holds the right to life as irrevocable.

Austin Sarat puts the question to us, "We must ask what the death penalty does to us, not just what it does for us."

What is the death penalty doing to us?

It is closing our eyes to understanding the person, the human being, behind the crime. By holding on to our anger and seeking the ultimate revenge against a crime committed against us we are unable to understand the pain we are suffering. As Freud says, there exists a "time lag between experience and understanding", something that explains what occurred to Andrea Durbach and Brian Morley.

By executing it's criminals a community is denying itself the chance to understand what caused the person behind the crime to do what they did. "State killing offers us a way out. Those acts are "their" fault, not our problem."

But it is not simply affecting our understanding but it is also brutalising our society and is essentially a fearful aversion to one kind of violence which results in a fearful embrace of another. The death penalty leaves a trail of suffering behind it, causing unimaginable grief in not only the condemned but also his family and friends. An execution is a punishment that goes beyond simply the condemned man. As Albert Camus observed, "The relatives of the condemned man then discover an excess of suffering that punishes them beyond all justice... the brief moments spent with the condemned man, the visions of the execution are all tortures."

It's a punishment that spreads its barbs deep within society, far beyond simply those who are proximate to it. I don't think I could ever word it better than the lawyer from the landmark American death penalty case, Illinois v Leopold and Loeb.

(Synopsis: Two rich Jewish boys who were both Law students believed that their superior intellects meant that they were some sort of Nietzschean supermen who were capable of committing the perfect crime. This is the epitome of cold blooded, motiveless murder. They killed for the thrill of proving their superior intelligence.)

If these two boys die on the scaffold, which I can never bring myself to imagine,--if they do die on the scaffold, the details of this will be spread over the world. Every newspaper in the United States will carry a full account. Every newspaper of Chicago will be filled with the gruesome details. It will enter every home and every family .

Will it make men better or make men worse? I would like to put that to the intelligence of man, at least such intelligence as they have. I would like to appeal to the feelings of human beings so far as they have feelings,--would it make the human heart softer or would it make hearts harder? How many men would be colder and crueler for it? How many men would enjoy the details, and you cannot enjoy human suffering with out being affected for better or for worse; those who enjoyed it would be affected for the worse.

What influence would it have upon the millions of men who will read it? What influence would it have upon the millions of women who will read it, more sensitive, more impressionable, more imaginative than men (I'd like to add here that this case is from the early 1900's, so you'll have to forgive this potentially credibility destroying throw in). Would it help them if your Honor should do what the state begs you to do? What influence would it have upon the infinite number of children who will devour its details as Dicky Loeb has enjoyed reading detective stories? Would it make them better or would it make them worse? The question needs no answer. You can answer it from the human heart. What influence, let me ask you, will it have for the unborn babes still sleeping in their mother's womb? And what influence will it have on the psychology of the fathers and mothers yet to come? Do I need to argue to your Honor that cruelty only breeds cruelty?--that hatred only causes hatred; that if there is any way to soften this human heart which is hard enough at its best, if there is any way to kill evil and hatred and all that goes with it, it is not through evil and hatred and cruelty; it is through charity, and love and understanding.

I don't think I could ever put it better than this. Upon hearing the evidence regarding the cold-blooded nature of the murder Darrow, the barrister, became infuriated.

Cold-blooded? Why? Because they planned, and schemed.
Yes. But here are the officers of justice, so-called, with all the power of the State, with all the influence of the press, to fan this community into a frenzy of hate; with all of that, who for months have been planning and scheming, and contriving, and working to take these two boys' lives.
You may stand them up on the trap-door of the scaffold, and choke them to death, but that act will be infinitely more cold-blooded whether justified or not, than any act that these boys have committed or can commit.
Cold-blooded!
Let the State, who is so anxious to take these boys' lives, set an example in consideration, kindheartedness and tenderness before they call my clients cold-blooded.

When we fail to understand, when we refuse to explain, when we hold onto our anger, when we push towards revenge, we serve only to perpetuate the suffering we try to protect ourselves from.

Quote of the day:

"There is violence at both ends, there is much death, there is tremendous suffering, but there is also a person at the center who you will not be able to dismiss as a monster or a demon."

-Austin Sarat

In The News - 7 June

John Forbes has been found not guilty on appeal in Sudan.

This is great news for the poor guy, who described the experience as mind numbingly terrifying. I think that really goes to show just how difficult it really is to live with the prospect of an impending execution. I can't imagine how relieved he must feel.

Anyway, I was speaking from ignorance more than hope when I said "He might even be innocent" but there you have it. To be honest, a few days after I made that post I was reading a newspaper article that was outlining his charges, and it seemed pretty outrageous at best.

In some other news, 3 of the Bali 6 have been forbidden from making a statement before the Supreme Court hands down their decision.

Keep your eyes on the headlines over the next month in regards to the Bali 6. There should be a decision handed down by the Supreme Court very soon regarding the appeals for the above 3. On the other side, the Constitutional Court will make a decision on the appeal of the other 3 within a month I'm sure. Geez, I'm actually getting butterflies.

Till next time.