Post by Anja Nieser on Sept 17, 2006 23:28:44 GMT -5
Whatever His Motivation Ryan Had it Right on the Death Penalty
The many critics of ex-Ilinois Gov. George Ryan must see a delicious irony
in the fact that Ryan, who commuted the death sentences of the more than
160 prisoners on his state's death row, has now been sentenced to prison
for convictions of racketeering conspiracy and fraud.
But beyond the easy jokes to be made about that turn of events, there are
bigger questions. Did Ryan commute those sentences right before he left
office in 2003 because he really believed, as he said, that his state's
capital-punishment system was broken? Or did he take the unprecedented act
of commuting the sentences, in most cases to sentences of life without
parole, to try to make himself look good as his own legal troubles
mounted?
Americans like their heroes to be all good and their villains all bad. But
that's rarely the way it is. The way it is is Richard Nixon opening up
American relations with China, then getting mired in Watergate. The way it
is is George Wallace, the Alabama governor from all those years ago,
scapegoating blacks for years, then apologizing for his actions and
winning the votes of many blacks.
And the way it is is George Ryan, a Republican who once supported the
death penalty, turning against it - and winning a nomination for a Nobel
Peace Prize along the way. His change in attitude wasn't an about-face, as
his critics suggest. Ryan had twice vetoed bills that would have added new
eligibility factors to his state's death penalty, and in 2000 he declared
a moratorium on the punishment and appointed a commission to explore its
administration. Finally, about to leave office and with the Illinois
legislature having failed to act on reform, Ryan commuted the sentences.
Several of the cases were especially heinous. But Ryan apparently saw that
if the system was broken for 1 death-row prisoner, it was broken for all.
"Frustrated by the impossibility of picking and choosing among cases on
any principled basis, Governor Ryan has said he ultimately decided against
'playing God,' " Scot Turow writes in his nonfiction book, Ultimate
Punishment. Turow, the lawyer and novelist, served on the governor's
commission on the death penalty.
The death penalty in Illinois is broken, just as it is here and in the
rest of the nation. It's administered arbitrarily, and there are far too
many serious mistakes made by cops, prosecutors and defense lawyers. In
Illinois alone, work by reporters and college students helped lead to
several death-row prisoners being exonerated by the time Ryan commuted the
sentences for all those others.
But taking on the death penalty is hardly a popular thing, especially for
a Republican who could have used the support of more of his
pro-death-penalty, Republican friends as he was tried. He was sentenced
earlier this month.
Ryan could have used all the help he could get, because his trial showed
that he wasn't much of a white knight in many areas, even in the
scandal-ridden world of Illinois politics. As he was sentenced the other
day, Ryan apologized for a scheme "in which prosecutors say he put
taxpayers' money toward campaign work, lied to federal agents, and handed
out contracts and leases to his friends in exchange for gifts, including
island vacations, for himself and his family," The New York Times
reported.
"People of this state expected better," Ryan said in court. "I let them
down. For that, I apologize."
He's a sad, sick old man whose "booming baritone" will now echo hollowly
against prison walls, at least for whatever he serves of the 61/2 years he
got in prison.
And the big question will linger, that of whether he commuted all those
death sentences because he really felt it was the right thing to do, or
because he felt like it would make him look good in court, or because he
thought it would at least give him some sort of a legacy. Perhaps it was a
little of each. The only ones who know for sure are Ryan and his God.
But this much is known: More than 160 ex-death row inmates in Illinois are
sure glad Ryan acted, whatever his motivation was.
And one of those prisoners may even be innocent.
(source: Winston-Salem Journal)
The many critics of ex-Ilinois Gov. George Ryan must see a delicious irony
in the fact that Ryan, who commuted the death sentences of the more than
160 prisoners on his state's death row, has now been sentenced to prison
for convictions of racketeering conspiracy and fraud.
But beyond the easy jokes to be made about that turn of events, there are
bigger questions. Did Ryan commute those sentences right before he left
office in 2003 because he really believed, as he said, that his state's
capital-punishment system was broken? Or did he take the unprecedented act
of commuting the sentences, in most cases to sentences of life without
parole, to try to make himself look good as his own legal troubles
mounted?
Americans like their heroes to be all good and their villains all bad. But
that's rarely the way it is. The way it is is Richard Nixon opening up
American relations with China, then getting mired in Watergate. The way it
is is George Wallace, the Alabama governor from all those years ago,
scapegoating blacks for years, then apologizing for his actions and
winning the votes of many blacks.
And the way it is is George Ryan, a Republican who once supported the
death penalty, turning against it - and winning a nomination for a Nobel
Peace Prize along the way. His change in attitude wasn't an about-face, as
his critics suggest. Ryan had twice vetoed bills that would have added new
eligibility factors to his state's death penalty, and in 2000 he declared
a moratorium on the punishment and appointed a commission to explore its
administration. Finally, about to leave office and with the Illinois
legislature having failed to act on reform, Ryan commuted the sentences.
Several of the cases were especially heinous. But Ryan apparently saw that
if the system was broken for 1 death-row prisoner, it was broken for all.
"Frustrated by the impossibility of picking and choosing among cases on
any principled basis, Governor Ryan has said he ultimately decided against
'playing God,' " Scot Turow writes in his nonfiction book, Ultimate
Punishment. Turow, the lawyer and novelist, served on the governor's
commission on the death penalty.
The death penalty in Illinois is broken, just as it is here and in the
rest of the nation. It's administered arbitrarily, and there are far too
many serious mistakes made by cops, prosecutors and defense lawyers. In
Illinois alone, work by reporters and college students helped lead to
several death-row prisoners being exonerated by the time Ryan commuted the
sentences for all those others.
But taking on the death penalty is hardly a popular thing, especially for
a Republican who could have used the support of more of his
pro-death-penalty, Republican friends as he was tried. He was sentenced
earlier this month.
Ryan could have used all the help he could get, because his trial showed
that he wasn't much of a white knight in many areas, even in the
scandal-ridden world of Illinois politics. As he was sentenced the other
day, Ryan apologized for a scheme "in which prosecutors say he put
taxpayers' money toward campaign work, lied to federal agents, and handed
out contracts and leases to his friends in exchange for gifts, including
island vacations, for himself and his family," The New York Times
reported.
"People of this state expected better," Ryan said in court. "I let them
down. For that, I apologize."
He's a sad, sick old man whose "booming baritone" will now echo hollowly
against prison walls, at least for whatever he serves of the 61/2 years he
got in prison.
And the big question will linger, that of whether he commuted all those
death sentences because he really felt it was the right thing to do, or
because he felt like it would make him look good in court, or because he
thought it would at least give him some sort of a legacy. Perhaps it was a
little of each. The only ones who know for sure are Ryan and his God.
But this much is known: More than 160 ex-death row inmates in Illinois are
sure glad Ryan acted, whatever his motivation was.
And one of those prisoners may even be innocent.
(source: Winston-Salem Journal)