Politics pushing death penalty

The state of Ohio is set to execute John Byrd, Jr., tomorrow. A man convicted of the murder of Monte Tewksbury during the robbery of a King Kwik convenience store in Hamilton County, Byrd is also a man who insistently proclaims his innocence — a claim that is corroborated by the confessed killer.

John E. Brewer, Byrd’s co-defendant in the 1983 trial, has signed two confession affidavits, endangering his chances for parole.

No one is saying that Byrd is inculpable, but in Ohio, our law dictates that only the "principal offender" can receive the death penalty. The primary evidence that linked Byrd to the stabbing was the testimony of a jailhouse snitch, Ronald Armstead, a violent offender whose record was not disclosed fully to the jury and who was rewarded with freedom weeks after giving his testimony.

In the end, Armstead was the reason Byrd was given a death sentence despite evidence that put the knife in Brewer’s hands. Brewer’s footprint was found on the counter. He was arrested while in possession of $89 in small bills, while Byrd was found with less than $5. Byrd’s conviction, if not incorrect, is questionable at the very least.

Let’s forget, for one day, all the other evils of capital punishment in America – the undeniable socioeconomic and racial disparities in death sentencing and plea bargaining, the fact that the death penalty has never been shown to deter violent crime, and our archaically inhumane practice of executing mentally retarded, mentally ill and juvenile offenders that disgusts the rest of the western democracies. Instead, let’s take a look at what Governor Taft will do when he signs Byrd’s death warrant: He’s politicizing the lives of both Byrd and Tewksbury.

In America, it is simply not politically safe to question a death sentence. Polls that indicate the public’s general support for the death penalty scare politicians into not being responsible office holders. Being "tough-on-crime" means being overzealously pro-death penalty and oblivious to the notion of prosecutorial misconduct and procedural error. While most of us see a life about to be taken by the government tomorrow, Governor Taft sees what is likely to be a heated election next year.

Taft is not the first. Politicizing death has been a popular strategy for years. The attainment of a death sentence in a high-profile case is vital to a prosecutor’s political career. It is not a surprise, therefore, when misconduct infiltrates justice. Stories of prosecutors withholding evidence or spending their counties into bankruptcy in their overeager attempts to get a death sentence are far too common.

Death penalty politics has even broken into presidential elections. As candidates, both George W. Bush and Bill Clinton played political chess with executions. Bush oversaw the death of Gary Graham, a juvenile offender who was convicted essentially on the sole testimony of a witness who claimed to have seen Graham’s face through a windshield from 30 to 40 feet away. Two eyewitnesses, both who said they got a good look at the assailant, have said that it was not Graham. They were never called to testify.

In 1992, Clinton returned to Arkansas from the campaign trail to oversee the execution of Ricky Ray Rector, whose mental competency was, to say the least, questionable. Clearly unaware of his fate, Rector saved his piece of pecan pie from his last meal to be eaten before bedtime. The executions of Graham and Rector might have violated evolving humanitarian standards, but Clinton and Bush were able to push the levels of decency one step further by using them as political stepping-stools during presidential campaigns.

Are we really sending the message to public officials that blindly "carrying out justice" results in boosted political careers?

Recent polls show that the tide is turning. A 2001 ABC News poll shows that 68 percent of Americans think that the death penalty is unfair because of mistaken executions and a 2001 Peter Hart Research poll shows that 72 percent favor suspending the death penalty until questions of its fairness can be studied. But are the politicians listening? Many Republicans still fear alienating the conservative right and many Democrats still suffer from Willie Horton Syndrome of appearing "soft-on-crime."

The stakes are of boundless magnitude. It simply does not make sense to continue with Byrd’s execution while considerable doubts surround his case. If we cannot be absolutely sure of his guilt, why must we insist on executing him? I think the answer is simple: It’s just politics as usual.