That Timothy McVeigh was a despicable human being, a
deluded, self-indulgent coward, a traitor and a murderer is beyond
dispute.
That he deserved to die is beyond dispute.
That he should not have been put to death, because
the death penalty itself is a barbaric punishment not worthy of a
civilized society is also beyond dispute.
Despite what some death penalty advocates claimed
before and after McVeigh�s June 11th execution by the federal
government, his death does not diminish the growing movement to end the
death penalty. It underscores why the death penalty should be abolished.
There�s no question that McVeigh appeared the "easy"
case for the death penalty: a mass murderer, who, repugnantly, described
the men, women and children he killed as "collateral damage." (Nor is
there any question that Juan Garza, the convicted drug trafficker and
murderer executed June 19, was also not fit to ever again be free.)
In his last days McVeigh claimed to be "sorry" that
all those people had to die in order for him to make his point. But of
course he was not sorry at all.
He wanted them to die. He blew up the federal
building in Oklahoma City in the daytime, not in the middle of the
night. He blew it up when it was occupied: when workers were arriving at
their desks, coffee cups and donuts in hand; when the building�s daycare
center was bustling with tots parents had just kissed goodbye moments
before. Mass murder was the point of his dastardly crime-the linchpin of
his crackpot view of himself as a "warrior" waging war against the
United States Government.
No, Timothy McVeigh did not deserve to live. But
American society does not deserve the stain of his death.
The death penalty is inherently unjust, inherently
unfairly applied.
For what reason was Timothy McVeigh executed? For
killing 168 people?
Then why isn�t Thomas E. Blanton facing execution,
too? Blanton, 62, was convicted in May of one of the most heinous racial
crimes of the Civil Rights years: the 1963 bombing of Sixteenth Baptist
Church, in Birmingham, Ala., in which four adolescent girls were killed.
Blanton and his Ku Klux Klan partners deliberately sought to kill as
many children as possible. He was sentenced to life in prison.
Where were the death-penalty advocates in that case?
Do they feel the lives of those four girls are not "worth" the execution
of those who murdered them?
Or, is it just a matter of numbers: the mass murderer
of 168 deserves the death penalty, but the murderer of four does not?
This comparative question looms over every case
involving murder-including that of the alleged spy, ex-FBI agent Robert
P. Hanssen-in every jurisdiction in which the death penalty is on the
books.
What also looms is the great irony that McVeigh,
having had the opportunity to say his last goodbyes, went to his death
"swiftly and painlessly-a quiet end," as a June 12th New York Times
story put it, "for the man who sent 168 people to their deaths in
screams, flames and crushing concrete."
In a powerful editorial the day McVeigh was executed,
the Washington Post declared that even in the McVeigh and Garza
cases, "where the logic of capital punishment is at its strongest, the
flaws and dangers of the penalty shine through."
Recalling the withholding of documents by the FBI
from McVeigh�s attorneys that forced the execution�s postponement, the
Post asked, "If such a thing could happen in this case, can
anyone really contend that such violations are not commonplace in those
cases nobody follows carefully?"
No, indeed, the accumulating evidence of recent years
tells us that mistakes�and institutional and individual racial and
ethnic biases�have put some murderers on death row, while other
murderers have been spared the death penalty. And we know that some on
death row clearly did not receive a fair trial and that others were
innocent of the crime altogether.
All of these factors led the Post to remind us
that the late constitutional scholar, Charles L. Black, Jr., was right
in pointing to "the inevitability of caprice and mistake" in
administering the death penalty.
That is why popular support for the death penalty is
at a 20-year low. That is why 14 states have now banned the execution of
the mentally retarded. The Texas legislature enacted broad changes in
its criminal justice system in response to growing criticism of the
quality of legal assistance available to defendants who are people of
color and who are poor.
In the year since Illinois Governor George Ryan
declared a moratorium on the death penalty�after more than a dozen men
on the state�s death row were found through DNA testing to be
innocent�bills seeking death-penalty moratoria have been filed in 21 of
the 38 death-penalty states.
All these, and other, developments, are in fact
pointing to one conclusion: the death penalty must be abolished, for all
our sakes.