Apr 99

Views expressed are those of the authors, not necessarily of the AFSC.

Testimony presented to a Massachusetts State House legislative hearing on reinstatement of the death penalty, March 22, 1999

My name is Betty H. Zisk. I am a resident of Burlington, MA and a Professor of Political Science at Boston University. I speak today, against the death penalty, on behalf of the Friends Meeting at Cambridge, a Quaker congregation of approximately 450 members. Before I begin, let me make one comment on a point that has long troubled me. I do not speak simply because I am a Quaker-somehow held hostage by the three centuries-long witness on this subject by the Religious Society of Friends. Rather, I became a Quaker by conviction-as did a large number of us-because I share Quaker beliefs about the sacred nature of human life. I speak as a stubborn individual (as well as a member of a religious community) who has worked for most of my life, on issues of conscience, about life and death and social justice.

I also speak in full awareness of the pain and anger of the families of murder victims. I share that sorrow on a personal level, since the mother of my beloved daughter-in-law was murdered, fifteen years ago in Albany, NY, in a senseless crime that has had a lasting effect on our family. I cannot dismiss lightly the pain that victims feel-something that never ends, and sometimes leads to a desire for retribution.

You have already heard some major arguments against restoring the death penalty in Massachusetts. I agree (as does Friends Meeting at Cambridge) with the argument that the death penalty does not work as a deterrent, and that past research has supported this view. I also agree with arguments about the excessive cost, to the taxpayers and to the state, of the death penalty as opposed to life in prison without parole. And I am distressed at the clear evidence-from Illinois as well as other states-that many innocent people have been convicted of murder (though we do not mean to imply our approval of executing the guilty either).

But I appear today to make three other points that are more central to Quakers' core beliefs and behavior. First, that the way in which our criminal justice system operates in general-and most specifically, the way in which decisions on the death penalty are made-is both racist and class-biased, in fact, if not in intent. Second, that the taking of the life of convicted murderers leaves no room for personal penitence, remorse, or transformation to take place in the lives of these individuals. And finally, that state-sanctioned murder is no answer to the problem of individual murder: retribution only continues the chain of violence that it is meant to address. If it is morally repugnant for an individual to take the life of another-and we strongly affirm that it is-it is equally repugnant for the state to retaliate in kind.

There is little question-given decades of statistics provided by the US Bureau of Justice itself-that the weight of the death penalty has fallen disproportionately on the backs of African Americans. More than half of the 4220 prisoners executed between 1930 and 1996, for example, were black. To be sure, these figures can be seen as reflecting the fact that a disproportionate number of blacks are arrested, arraigned, and convicted to begin with, but that phenomenon itself reflects a longstanding institutional bias against both people of color and poor people. Poor people (and most black defendants fall into this category) are less able than the wealthy to hire skilled teams of lawyers at both the trial and appellate levels. They are less likely to be granted the alternative sentence of life imprisonment without parole by juries and judges. They are-let's face it-treated with the same harsh discrimination that most have encountered in their earlier years as free men and women.

I am aware that the question of remorse or penitence receives little sympathy in today's society. I believe, however, that we need to re-examine this argument. I have had occasion (as have several others in the Friends Meeting at Cambridge) to meet and come to know a number of prisoners at MCI-Norfolk who are serving life sentences for first or second degree murder. This happened through our participation in the Alternatives to Violence Project, which conducted 22-hour weekend workshops in several Massachusetts prisons in the early 1990s. Some of these men are among the most remarkable people (in terms of their spiritual maturity, their profound self-awareness, and their strong empathy for others) that I have ever been privileged to meet, either inside or outside of prison walls. Many are natural leaders; some are involved in peer counseling and calming younger, angrier, and rasher prisoners. This spiritual maturity came through years of self-reflection and remorse while incarcerated. (And those with whom I had a chance to talk in depth stressed the fact that not a day passed without reflection and intense regret about their crimes.)

If we believe at all in the possibility of redemption or transformation-or in speaking to "that of God" in every human being, no matter how degraded their past-how can we execute such human beings before they have a chance to find and seek such redemption? Lest I be accused of having more sympathy for convicts than for their victims, let me add that at least one group that speaks for the families of murder victims makes a closely related point: the execution of murderers forever precludes interactive healing between the murderer and his/her victims as well.

I conclude, finally, with the deep concern that we not punish a profoundly evil wrong act (murder) with an equally repugnant response by the state. I have long been ashamed of the fact that our nation is the only western democracy that employs capital punishment. I have been equally proud (as a Massachusetts resident for almost 35 years) that we are one of twelve states that has discontinued this practice. I believe that our citizens and our justice system has shown considerable self-restraint and spiritual maturity in this respect. Yes, we take very seriously the commandment: thou shalt not kill. But that applies to the hand of the state as well as to the hand of the convict. We have learned, as parents and educators, that violent punishment only begets more violence. We are perhaps beginning to learn that the fruits of war and terrorism are bitter indeed. I hope that our state has also learned to honor the human spirit-"that of God"-within even the souls of those who have lost their way by committing the act of murder. We must honor our spiritual leadings, ourselves, our children, and the families of victims-as well as these lost souls-by saying no loudly and clearly to a return of the death penalty.