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The Case of Mumia Abu Jamal, by Terry Bisson
(from New York Newsday, 1995)
In 1978, Philadelphia Mayor (and ex-police chief)
Frank Rizzo blew up at a press conference,
threatening what he called "the new breed" of
journalists. "They the people believe what you
write and what you say," said Rizzo, "and it's
got to stop. One day--and I hope it's in my
career--you're going to have to be held
responsible and accountable for what you do."
What the "new breed" was doing in 1978, and is
still doing today, was exposing
police misconduct. A cop had been killed in a
confrontation between Philadelphia police and the
radical MOVE organization (the same MOVE that was
fire-bombed by (the city seven years later), and
the police version of who shot first hadn't been
accepted without question. Rizzo feared a new
trend, and he was right.
The trend has continued. Today, the Mollen
Commission, the NYPD "party"in DC, the Rodney
King case and hundreds of other local scandals
have exposed the dark underside of police
misconduct nationwide. Ironically, the most
prominent of the "new breed" of journalists at
whom Rizzo's outburst was directed is awaiting
execution on Pennsylvania's Death Row, the
victim--many believe--of a police frame-up. Mumia
Abu-Jamal began his journalism career with the
Black Panther Party. The Panthers were the
original "affirmative action" employer, and Mumia
(then Wesley Cook) was Minister of Information
for the Philadelphia chapter at age 15,
writing for the national newspaper. A heady
beginning for a West Philly kid. After the
Panthers fell apart (helped by a stiff dose of
FBI harassment) Mumia turned to broadcasting. He
had the voice, the writing talent and the
ambition, and by age 25, he was one of the top
names in local radio, interviewing such
luminaries as Jesse Jackson and the Pointer
Sisters and winning a Peabody Award for his
coverage of the Pope's visit. He was president of
the Philadelphia Association of Black
Journalists, called "one to watch" by
Philadelphia magazine.
But Mumia was still a radical. The Philadelphia
Inquirer called him "an eloquent activist not
afraid to raise his voice," and this fearlessness
was to be his undoing. His vocal support of
MOVE's uncompromising life-style lost him jobs at
Black stations, and he was forced to moonlight to
support his family. The mayor's outburst marked
the beginning of a campaign of police harassment
that included such subtleties as a cocked finger
and a 'bang bang' from a smirking cop, and
escalated to a late-night police beating of
Mumia's brother on the street.
Mumia was driving a cab that night. It is
undisputed that he intervened. It is undisputed
that both he and officer Daniel Faulkner were
shot, and that Faulkner died. What is in dispute
is who killed Faulkner. Mumia says it was someone
else, and several witnesses saw another shooter
flee the scene. Mumia's legally
registered .38 was never decisively linked to
Faulkner's wounds.
Mumia's murder trial was a policeman's dream.
Denied the right to represent himself, he was
defended by a reluctant incompetent who was later
disbarred (and who has since filed an affadavit
in Mumia's support detailing his delinquencies).
Mumia was prosecuted by a DA who was later
reprimanded for withholding evidence in another
trial. He was allowed only $150 to interview
witnesses. But best of all was the judge. A life
member of the Fraternal Order of Police, branded
as a "defendant's nightmare" by the Philadelphia
Inquirer, Judge Albert F. Sabo has sentenced more
men to die (31 to date, only two of them white)
than any other sitting judge in America. A fellow
judge once called his courtroom a "vacation for
prosecutors" because of bias toward convictions.
Sabo wouldn't allow Mumia to defend himself
because his dreadlocks made jurors "nervous."
Kept in a holding cell, he read about his own
trial in the newspapers. A Black juror was
removed for violating sequestration, while a
white juror was given an court escort to take a
civil service exam; in the end all the Black
jurors but one were removed. A policeman who
filed two conflicting reports was never
subpoenaed (he was "on vacation"). Mumia's Black
Panther history was waved like a bloody flag: Had
he said, "All power to the people?" Yes, he
admitted, he had said that. Character witnesses
like poet Sonia Sanchez were
cross-examined about their "anti-police" writings
and associations.
Thus with Judge Sabo's help, an award-winning
radical journalist with no criminal record was
portrayed as a police assassin lying in wait
since age 15. After Mumia's conviction, Sabo
instructed the jury: "You are not being asked to
kill anybody" by imposing the death penalty,
since the defendant will get "appeal after appeal
after appeal." Such instruction, grounds for
reversal since
Caldwell vs. Mississippi, was allowed in Mumia's
case. Mumia's appeals have so far gone
unanswered. After being on Death Row for
thirteen years, he is now the target of a
police-led smear campaign. Last year NPR's "All
Things Considered" canceled a scheduled series of
his commentaries after the Fraternal Order of
Police objected. Mumia's book, LIVE FROM DEATH
ROW, has been greeted with a boycott and a
skywriter circling the publisher's Boston
offices: "Addison-Wesley Supports Cop Killers"
Officer Faulkner's widow has gone on TV claiming
that Mumia smiled at her when her husband's
bloody shirt was shown--even though the record
shows that Mumia wasn't in the courtroom that
day.
Mumia and his supporters want only one thing--a
new trial, with an unbiased judge and a competent
lawyer. Defense attorney Leonard Weinglass has
entered a motion to have Judge Sabo removed from
the case because he cannot provide even the
"appearance of fairness." The struggle became a
race against time last month, when Pennsylvania
Governor Ridge, though fully aware of the many
questions in the case, signed a death warrant
scheduling Mumia for execution August 17.
Mumia Abu-Jamal was not surprised. Several of the
essays in his book deal with America's frantic
"march toward the death chamber." As he wrote
several years ago in the Yale Law Journal,
"states that have not slain in a generation now
ready their machinery: generators whine, poison
liquids are mixed, and gases are
measured and readied." Unless Mumia Abu Jamal's
final petition is answered, and he gets the fair
trial he deserves, America will see its the first
explicitly political execution since the
Rosenbergs were put to death in 1953. Frank
Rizzo's angry threat will be fulfilled, for one
"new breed" journalist at least. It will stop. We
won't hear any more criticism of the police from
Mumia Abu-Jamal. Forever.
The preceding was taken from an article written by
Terry Bisson. It is now August of 1998 and the
PA Supreme court is deciding if they should hear
Mumia Abu-Jamals plea or have the GOV sign a
death warrant. Please help out. If you would
like to know more about Mumia Abu-Jamal, visit
www.calyx.com/~refuse
Real justice comes about only when the people
demand it in a way that cannot be ignored.
Bill Williams
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