Showing posts with label torture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label torture. Show all posts

Monday, April 13, 2015

Necrophilia and Migrating Hairs


Medieval justice was scrupulous about holding proper trials and careful not to sentence without proof of guilt, but it achieved proof by confession rather than evidence, and confession was routinely obtained by torture.
Barbara W. Tuchman
A Distant Mirror: The Calamitous 14th Century
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Tukhachevsky was tortured. . . .
Tuchachevsky's confession . . . is dappled with a brown spray that was found to be blood spattered by a body in motion.
Stalin had to convince the Politburo of the soldiers' guilt. . . .
It's incredible, admitted Stalin, “but it's a fact, they admit it.” They even signed on each page to avoid “falsification.”
Simon Sebag Montefiore
Stalin: The Court of the Red Tsar
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In the April 13, 2015 issue of The New Yorker Ariel Levy in an article subtitled “What’s the right way to compensate someone for decades of lost freedom?”(1) writes about men and women who, in miscarriages of justice, were incarcerated for decades in prisons across the country.

Prison was “like a war zone,” according to John Restivo, whose miscarriage of justice is the central story of Levy's article. And prison was where he spent almost two decades—which should have been the prime years of his life, from his middle twenties to his middle forties—because of fabricated evidence, unfollowed leads, and, perhaps most crucially, the coerced confession of one of his two co-defendants, John Kogut. For a rape and murder none of them committed.

After having been told (falsely) that he had failed a polygraph test and having been grilled for eighteen hours, Kogut signed a confession, according to Levy, “handwritten by one of the detectives.” Kogut then went before a video camera and “confessed to the crime, hewing to the police's version of the events.”

It didn't matter that
(a) “Kogut recanted his confession immediately”;
(b) “Restivo's van [in which the crime allegedly took place] had been up on blocks at his mother's house on the night of the crime”;
(c) “the three men had never ridden in it together”
(d) the owner of a stolen Oldsmobile reported to the police after the car was found that “he had noticed a pair of unfamiliar striped jeans [like those the victim had been wearing] wadded under the passenger seat, and that a length of rope was missing from the vehicle.”

It didn't matter because, as Restivo was told by one of the police officers when first brought in for questioning (he was kept for twenty hours), “This is un-America: you have no rights here.”
*
[C]oercion, intimidation, deceit and trickery”--that was how H. Lee Sarokin, a retired federal judge, answered the title question “Why Do Innocent People Confess to Crimes They Did Not Commit?”(2) of a Huffington Post blog entry. And, of course, we might add, plain old torture (which is a bit more than coercion and intimidation). For too many police, prosecutors, and judges, from the scrupulous (according to the values of the time) medieval judges to the unscrupulous Soviets--or Chicago police(3)--the determination to convict a defendant by his own words has been single-minded pursuit. As Judge Sarokin put it:
There is no more powerful evidence in a criminal trial than a confession by the defendant himself.
But equally, again in the words of Judge Sarokin:
There is no greater injustice than when those confessions are obtained through threats and intimidation and result in the conviction of innocent persons.
*
Doing justice may require conceding wrongdoing rather than clinging to convictions . . . fraught with injustice” (again Sarokin). But there seems to be something in the make-up of prosecutors that they cannot admit to error.

Consider Cook County [Illinois] State’s Attorney Anita Alvarez in this excerpt from CBS Sixty Minutes:
Narration: In the case of Robert Taylor, Jonathan Barr and James Harden, DNA found inside the 14-year-old victim Catteresa Matthews was also retested, and a match was made to Willie Randolph, a 34-year-old convicted rapist, with 39 arrests. (Innocence Project Defense attorney) Peter Neufeld says prosecutors rejected the DNA evidence and instead came up with an unusual theory to explain it all away.Peter Neufeld: They suggest perhaps after the kids killed her this man wandered by and committed an act of necrophilia.Byron Pitts: Necrophilia. A lot of our viewers won’t know what that means.Peter Neufeld: Having sex with a dead person.Anita Alvarez: It’s possible. We have seen cases like that.Byron Pitts: Possible?Anita Alvarez: It is. We’ve seen it in other cases.Byron Pitts: It’s possible that this convicted rapist, wandered past an open field, and had sex with a 14-year-old girl who was dead?Anita Alvarez: Well, there’s all kinds of possibilities out there, and what I’m saying is that I don’t know what happened.(4)
We have not uncovered any evidence of any misconduct by the police officers or the State’s Attorneys that took the statements in these cases” is her declaration.
*
In the past year alone,” according to the New York Times,
nine people who had been sentenced to death were released — and in all but one case, prosecutors’ wrongdoing played a key role.(5)
Fred Klein, the assistant district attorney assigned to the Restivo case, told Ariel Levy that
prosecutors in many states are . . . bound by ethics statutes. But, he added, “practically speaking, most prosecutors don’t spend too much time worrying about that. They assume that the police did their job.”
And for him,
the idea that the police had manipulated the evidence “intentionally would just be beyond my comprehension.”
Klein also asserted that Joseph Volpe, the lead detective, who arrested Restivo, Kogut, and Dennis Halstead (the third defendant), was “a wonderful detective—one of the most tenacious, professional people I have ever worked with.” Volpe's report, claiming that two strands of hair from the victim's head had been found on the floor of Restivo's van, was the major element of the prosecution's case against the three men on trial.

At a retrial of John Kogut, the judge, after examining new forensic evidence, destroyed the prosecution's claim:
The judge concluded that [the hairs of the victim] must have come from elsewhere [other than the van], perhaps from the autopsy; apparently the police had commingled them—accidentally or deliberately—with hairs from the van.
And in 2014, a federal jury declared that Klein's “wonderful detective”
had engaged in official misconduct, including fabrication of hair evidence and withholding of exculpatory evidence in the case.(6)
Which should have been no surprise to Klein, because prior to Volpe's retirement from the police, Levy informs us, “the state had settled another case, in which he was accused of soliciting a false confession.”

But what really surprises me is that today this same Fred Klein is a professor at Hofstra Law School. I can only surmise that his speciality is the Ostrich Theory of Lawyering.
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Wednesday, August 5, 2009

The Bones of Dead Men

The Bones of Dead Men

On an overcast Sunday in June I walk the block-and-a-half from my daughter's house to Avenida del Libertador, where a red light grants me fifty seconds to cross seven lanes of traffic. On the eastern side of Libertador is a series of two-story, white buildings with red tile roofs, settled on a great expanse of green lawn amongst lush vegetation. It is, seemingly, a Southern California junior college transplanted to the northeastern corner of the City of Buenos Aires.

But here no blondhaired coeds, clutching textbooks to their breasts, have ever rushed away from their surfer boyfriends to fly off to their chemistry or biology labs, for this is the home of the Escuela de Mecanica de la Armada, whose major experiments in torture occurred over three decades ago during Argentina's “Dirty War.” To be imprisoned in the bowels of ESMA one did not need to bear arms against the military junta, a typewriter or a pen would do. Here, mothers would be “disappeared” after having their babies snatched from them and awarded to faithful followers of the regime.

I peer through the metal fence for a while, then turn my back on the whited sepulcher and use all of my fifty seconds to cross Libertador. There, on the western side of the avenue, the blank faces of bland apartment buildings show no regard for the past.

To the Defenders of Torture

To the Defenders of Torture

During my many years of college teaching I would from time to time see students crossing the campus who, because they appeared different from the crowd (they were older or better dressed or, rarely, strikingly beautiful), made me wonder, “Who is that person?” And from time to time, one of those interesting persons would turn up in my English class and I, indeed, learned who that person was (alas, never one of the beauties though).

Mr. C. (as I shall call him) appeared in my composition class one summer session. I had spied him many times walking across campus with a sort of hop-limp, holding by its handles a stiff flower-decorated plastic shopping bag, the kind your grandmother might have taken to the corner grocer’s. He was at least ten years older than the majority of the other freshmen and spoke with a Middle-European accent. He was bright, but a difficult student. He wanted nothing to do with any writing that touched on feelings or emotions. Why, he wanted to know, couldn’t we just deal with the impersonal, the objective?

One day after class near the end of the summer session, I was discussing a paper with its writer when we were interrupted by another student, who insisted that I come immediately out into the hall, where he directed me to the stairway. There on the landing between flights was Mr. C., huddled in the corner, silently weeping. “He was tortured in prison in Czechoslovakia,” the second student whispered into my ear. I went over to the figure in the corner, a bumbling English teacher who had no words to console a man with a limp who wanted nothing to do with feelings or emotions.

(Originally published on my Telegraph UK blog)