We Are All Troy Davis

Thursday, 22 September 2011
First morning in ages that BabyG has napped, allowing me to shower at a decent hour and get on with things, and I can't stop watching coverage of the now-delayed pending execution of Troy Davis. It brings back memories of the 2005 execution (scroll down) of Australian man Van Tuong Nguyen - the sickening helpless feeling of waste, pointlessness and the horror of the state committing murder. Whilst the death penalty is never justified, the difference in that case was that Van Nguyen was guilty of the crime he was executed for, although he did not deserve to die for it. Troy Davis is innocent, almost certainly, with no physical evidence linking him to the crime, and one of the two witnesses who testified against him who hasn't retracted their testimony looking like a very credible suspect for the crime Davis was convicted of.

You don't even have to be against the death penalty itself to oppose this execution. The death penalty itself is horrific enough, its mundane details and practicalities chilling - the condemned prisoner is not only kept on suicide watch, so as not to deprive the state its revenge, but actually given a check up by a doctor to ensure they are fit for execution ("no, you'll have to live, you're to sick to kill"). But even if you believe the death penalty is warranted, say, for someone who kills a child, it is quite another thing to execute someone when there is so much doubt in the case. Troy Davis should not be saved in and of himself because he recanted, found Jesus, does good work in jail; but because it seems sure that he simply did not commit the crime he may die for.

The family of Mark McPhail, the murdered off-duty police officer whom Davis is convicted of killing, would doubtless say they are the real victims here. The are convinced of Davis' guilt, and adamant the execution should proceed. I feel very sorry for them, but it's hard to understand their faith in Davis' conviction. When you have been so greatly wronged, so grieved, humans have a natural urge to seek what they see as justice, to right the wrong in the natural order of things. For McPhail's family to concede that Davis is not guilty would leave them with no focus for their pain; they must think the execution will give them some closure. They are sadly wrong. A man - let alone an innocent man - does not need to die to prove the extent of their suffering. If this execution goes ahead, and they later have doubts - if later there is another conviction, more evidence, proof - what then? Then they become the victims of one murder and to an extent, the accomplices to another.

As I write, it's 150 minutes past Davis' scheduled execution time. A delay has been issued whilst the U.S. Supreme court considers an appeal. It seems that Davis could still be executed at any time - the live coverage is continuing. We just don't know what's going on right now, reports are that Davis is on the gurney now, awaiting the word. I think I'm going to be sick. How can anyone i the world think this is okay?

EDIT: of course as we all now know Davis was executed later that day.  I'll just add this:
"What then is capital punishment but the most premeditated of murders, to which no criminal's deed, however calculated it may be, can be compared. For there to be an equivalence, the death penalty would have to punish a criminal, who had warned his victim of the date at which he would inflict a horrible death on him, and who from that moment onward had confined him at his mercy for months. Such a monster is not encountered in private life." - Albert Camus "Reflections on the Guillotine" 1957.

When All Is Said and Done

Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Proving that no nightmare scenario lasts forever (although god knows, it felt like the Howard era would do so), on 1 September we fnally had our beautiful son BabyG. Which considering he was due on the 20 August, clearly meant things took a little longer than planned. Plans went out the window anyhow, as my original wish for a waterbirth was scrapped and I ended up having every intervention imaginable to try to extract my little guy, finally resorting to a c-section when all else failed...and even then, he had to be plied out with forceps. Using the emergency exit proved to be for the best when to everyone's surprise, he weighed in at four-and-a-half kilos. I don't know how. I avoided all the foods you're supposed to avoid and swallowed bucketsful of prenatal vitamins but my fruit and vegetable intake was sometimes neglected in my insane desire for chocolate milk (which makes me feel a little ill now I think of it). I didn't have diabetes. DH and I are tallish but not huge. I didn't even look all that big and have no idea where he was hiding. Somehow, I just baked a really big baby...although he still seems tiny and fragile to us.

Posting has been a bit thin on the ground whilst DH and I get our baby legs. We keep feeling like we're playing Mum and Dad, and the real grown ups will be along shortly to take care of things (this is an especially appealing notion at 3am). As for Xander, he's coping as well as can be expected for a senior cat who has never met a child before ("that thing you brought home is crying again"). Everything they said about having a baby is true, yet no one warned me about any of this. The feeling of peace having him in my arms, or the panic of that dreadful night when I was unable to feed him and he had no wet nappies for twenty hours. I know that this baby business is of very little interest to anyone else though (certainly I can feel my 29yo, chainsmoking, avowed-childless self being bored rigid by it), so I'll keep it short until BabyG and I sort ourselves out and I'm able to get a grasp on world affairs again. Though let me guess...Tony Abbott is still whinging, right?
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