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AN AMERICAN PENAL RADICALIZATION OF A PALESTINIAN INMATE

American prisons pose a significant potential for the radicalization of its inmates. Extreme political ideologies, a worship of violence, and racial hatred are common characteristics in a prison system that is the largest in the world – more than 2 million, 93 percent of whom are in state prisons and local jails.

I had always viewed the Israeli/Palestinian conflict through the eyes of Israel.

Then I met Mazen ”Ali” Hamdan.

He was fond of saying that he had learned so much from me, but I actually learned much more from him.

I was vulnerable the time we met. I could not see unless I taped my eyelids open with band aids. It was never a pretty process. Ali patiently assumed this task for me each day, teaching me how to do it on my own. I told him, “You’re my Palestinian doctor.”

We were both inmates at the C. Paul Phelps Correctional Center located in DeQuincy, a small southwest Louisiana town 30 miles shy of the Texas border. We shared a double bunk in one of the facility’s dormitories—he in the lower bunk, me in the top.

We shared many intellectual conversations, mostly of a political nature.

Prison had radicalized him.

I did not subscribe to all of Ali political views, but I respected his right to express them. More importantly, I respected his courage and willingness to share them with me. And I diligently recorded all of them on my yellow legal pads.

Ali was always patient each time I went back over my notes of our conversations to make sure I got what he said right.

Prison radicalization caused him see himself as a “freedom fighter” but I’m not so sure I agree with that self-characterization.         

I don’t know what happened to Ali after he was released from prison.

I’m just glad I recorded his thoughts, showing the radicalization of an American Palestinian inmate. I memorialized much of this essay in 2006 shortly after my release from Phelps. Little did I know that his views would come to  explain so much about how and why the world now finds itself embroiled, directly or indirectly, in the Israel-Hamas War.

He was short.

I was tall

.

He was Arab.

I was American.

He was Muslim.

I was Christian.

We had nothing in common. Or so I thought when Mazen “Ali” Hamdan became my “cellie” in the summer of 2004 at the C. Paul Phelps Correctional Center. We were both assigned to Dorm H-2 in Unit One at the penal facility. I slept in Bed 50, a top bunk, and Hamdan moved into Bed 49, the bottom bunk. That made us “cellies” in the prison vernacular. He called himself “Ali” to keep his real name from becoming too known in the prison community.

The initial impression we have of people are quite often deceiving. We tend to approach new people with biased feelings and stereotypical attitudes. We sniff around the contours of their personality and body language before we decide whether we like or dislike them.

Prison is about individual space, turf and territory. Its inmates invisibly piss-mark their meager domains. This collective characteristic makes them establish relationships cautiously.

So it was with prison cellies.

They shared one double bunk. Each cellie had two lockers – a standup locker at the head of the bunk and a foot locker at the end of the bunk. These lockers were the inmate’s home, the place for his property. Each cellie’s “living space” was narrow, so cellies paths crossed many times each day as they moved in and out and around their bunks. Each cellie had to compromise in order to accommodate the individual habits of the other.

For example, Ali placed his Muslim “prayer rug” on the floor next to our bunk five times each day. This blocked access to my standup locker. So I had to learn his prayer schedule and make the necessary accommodations. I awoke at 4:30 a.m., made my bunk, took care of my personal hygiene, and dressed before he awoke at 5:30 when the dorm lights were turned on. As soon as the lights came on, I vacated the area to give him space necessary to get ready to meet the day. I swept and mopped the area around our bunk while he cleaned the lockers and adjacent window. We learned to do these things without ever speaking a word about them.

Ali learned I was the author of a book and had a rather legendary jailhouse lawyer reputation. He was an aspiring writer (poetry mostly) and had become a prolific neophyte jailhouse lawyer. He read “A Life In The Balance: The Billy Wayne Sinclair Story” (Arcade Publishing, New York 2000), a book I co-authored with my wife, Jodie. He was hugely impressed with it. I became “Mr. Sinclair” to this intense 24-year-old Palestinian.

Ali had several civil rights lawsuits against the prison system pending in federal courts when we met. He picked my brain for kernels of legal information he could utilize in those legal battles. I was a willing teacher, drawn to this fiercely determined and remarkably matured young man.

Mazen Hamdan appeared older than his twenty-four years. He was gifted with self-confidence reflected in his walk, body language, and penetrating stares. His dark eyes radiated an intellectual curiosity. He spoke softly but with firmness. He chose his words carefully as he expressed focused thoughts. He liked to read my New York Times. The newspaper became the source for many of our intense conversations about world events.

“Mr. Sinclair,” he said after reading an article in the Times that Israel had purchased “bunker-busting” bombs from the United States, “if the Israelis bomb the nuclear facilities in Iran, it will unleash a violent insurgency, a brutal religious backlash. Everyone in the Arab world will know that Israel acted on instructions from the U.S. The insurgency in Iraq will seem like a grain of sand on a beach compared to the violent insurgency that will be produced in Iran. This insurgent backlash will take its violence throughout the Arab world and it will be directed at American interests.”

Ali was born in Cleveland, Ohio to Palestinian parents who immigrated to America. The Hamdan family then migrated to Detroit where Ali spent most of his formative years before the family moved to Louisiana. They settled in New Orleans where they became prosperous store owners.

But Ali had never felt comfortable about people in Louisiana.

“The people up North, in Michigan, are different from people in Louisiana,” the Palestinian explained. “There was poverty, welfare, and food stamps in Michigan. People there took advantage these benefits, but not like in Louisiana. It was natural for these Southern people to beg for a state handout. I saw this social trait in New Orleans with my own eyes and I’ve seen it in this state’s prison system. Palestinian people believe in making do with what you have, and you make do without if you don’t have anything. I’ve seen many inmates lower themselves to begging for a honey bun. I will give what I can to any man who has nothing, but I will ask nothing of no man. I would rather have hunger as a companion than accept gifts from a free hand. I know what is in my stomach; I do not know what is in the heart of the one extending that free hand.”

Ali was arrested in New Orleans with slightly more than a kilo of heroin in his possession. With 9/11 still cascading across America, he became a major “Arab drug dealer.” He said the New Orleans police “cut” the almost pure heroin down to approximately two percent pure. They kept the rest for themselves.

“All cops in New Orleans are corrupt,” he said.

That was true. New Orleans cops reflect the corruption that lies in the bone marrow of Louisiana. An official hand accepting a bribe should be the state’s symbol.

I did not ask Ali why he had so much heroin and he did not offer an explanation. Some things are best left un-spoken in prison.

This young Palestinian inmate knew nothing about “prisoner’s rights” or how to enforce them in the American judicial system. But he was armed with determination. He quickly put himself on a fast track to a legal education. He filed a federal civil rights lawsuit against then Orleans Parish Sheriff Charles Foti. A federal judge appointed a Loyola University law professor to represent him in the lawsuit. The professor secured a six-thousand dollar settlement against Foti for violating the Ali’s civil rights.

The sheriff transferred Ali out of the parish prison to the Hunt Correctional Center in St. Gabriel. He encountered the same 9/11-generated official bias against Arab-American inmates. He was placed in lockdown at Hunt, probably because of the lawsuit against Foti. He was frequently tortured and abused while in lockdown. He was placed in full restraints – handcuffs, waist chain, and leg irons – before being locked in a “super max’ cell called “the tank.”

Two African-American guards entered the Palestinian’s cell. One was female. She emptied two cans of Punch II pepper spray in Ali’s face. The male guard slapped and punched him around the head as he tried to avoid the pepper spray. The spray forced both guards to retreat. Before they left, they set off another can of chemical spray agent and closed the metal door behind them. This torture session lasted four hours.

The African-American guards kept up the campaign of cursing, threatening, and feeding him a “food loaf.” The food loaf was all of the day’s food compressed into a loaf. It smelled horrible and tasted worse.  He was also denied any opportunity to practice his Muslim faith – and he never knew if the food loaf contained pork

Ali began filing “grievances” and writing letters of complaint to Hunt officials. The institution had thirteen assistant wardens. These officials had entrenched in the prison’s bureaucracy a quasi-official policy of retaliating against those inmates who reported or challenged official wrongdoing. Ali quickly became the target of dozens of false disciplinary reports by unscrupulous guards acting at the direction of one or more of these wardens. These guards repeatedly placed him in administrative segregation where he encountered an atmosphere of inmate violence instigated by the guards. He had to confront and fend off homosexual advances by sexual predators that attacked him with razor blades. Ali’s reaction to the razor-blade assault revealed a lot about his personal values.

“I had several razor blade cuts on my arm,” he said, revealing to me the noticeable scars. “I showered – I was hoping to stop the blood flow. After I showered, I wrapped a towel around my arm, hoping that would pressure off the blood flow. The tier guard didn’t see the fight but he did see the bloody towel. He asked me what happened. He knew what happened. He set it up. I would not rat. It’s not in me to expose someone else. I do not collaborate with the enemy. So I told the guard I cut myself. He put in a disciplinary report that I attempted suicide. When my family learned about this, they were really upset. Suicide is a sin in Islam. I had to explain the whole thing to them. I had a choice – let it go down as a suicide attempt or rat out the inmates that did it. Being a rat was unacceptable.”

The systematic abuse and torture Ali endured at Hunt prompted him to file yet another federal civil rights lawsuit. He charged in this lawsuit that the Louisiana corrections department encouraged, or at least permitted, a quasi-official practice of discriminating, harassing, and retaliating against Arab-American inmates.

The charge had credence.

After 9/11 Arab-American inmates in the state’s prison system, particularly at the Avoyelles Parish Correctional Center, were tortured, brutally beaten, and subjected to physical abuse with restraints and chemical spray. Other forms of torture were inflicted with electronic stun shields, attack dogs, and police batons.

After he filed the civil rights lawsuit against Hunt officials, Ali was transferred to the Dixon Correctional Institute. He encountered the same entrenched religious and racial discrimination against Arab-Americans, particularly by African-American Muslim inmates he claimed.

“African-American Muslim inmates at DCI were so afraid, so intimidated that they would be associated with the 9/11 attacks or any kind of terrorism,” Ali said, “they compromised the basic teachings of the Koran and what Islam stands for just to be accepted by the white prison administration.”

Ali once again found himself in the posture of having to challenge the established order. He filed more grievances and letters of complaint. He was defiant of prison authority and refused to accept the inmate status quo. He disregarded the inmate Muslim community by forming his own group of Muslims who strictly adhered to the teachings of the Koran. This fundamentalist group collected the names of other Muslim inmates who possessed any form of pornography or who participated in homosexuality. The fundamentalists would then confiscate the Koran from the Muslims and hold “court” on them for their transgressions.

“You cannot be a true Muslim and possess pornography,” Ali explained. “Our confiscation of the Koran was designed to do more than punish the inmates for having this pornography, this human filth. We had to openly defy the hypocrisy and teachings of the African-American Muslims who knew nothing about Islam. Arab-Americans do not recognize the Nation of Islam as true Muslims. There is no such thing as ‘Al-Islam’.”

At this point I should note that it was not my experience with Nation of Islam Muslims to see them possess any form of pornography or to engage in homosexuality which was strictly forbidden by their religious tenets.

But it was this perceived religious, cultural and racial divide that prompted Ali to challenge the Iman who visited and preached at the DCI facility.

“The Iman was preaching that all Arab Muslims are terrorists and cowards,” Ali said. “I could not accept this teaching. It was not only a lie, but it demonstrated his prejudice against Arab Muslims. I told the Iman he was a liar, a coward. I told him that his people are cowards. They have a history of accepting abuse, being enslaved or trying to enslave their own people. In this country they embrace a culture of violence against their own people – crack, gangs, sexual degradation. Instead of trying to resist, fight, or change poverty, they embrace it as a ticket to a check or a free meal. They would rather opt for a hand-out rather than demand the right to earn a meal – and, then, they have the audacity to call my people cowards and terrorists because we have the will and courage to fight and die for our human dignity.”

The fire of anger burned deep in Ali’s eyes. The intensity of his beliefs ensnared the listener.

“I am not a racist against African-Americans or Jews,” he said. “But I do not like them as a people. I do not like their values and culture – and I certainly don’t share their religious beliefs. I am a natural enemy of the Jew – there is no denying that. And I am a natural enemy of African-American Muslims. I do not hate these people, but I will not tolerate their misrepresentations about my people. My mother did not rear me to hate – she reared me to be proud, independent, and outspoken.”

Ali’s mother had a tremendous influence in his life. She was a charismatic person. People were drawn to her wisdom and counsel – an anomaly in the Arab culture. She married a much older man and was totally devoted to the family he gave her.

“My mother never let us leave our home unless we were neat and clean,” Ali said. “She always told me, ‘remember, son, no one knows what is in your stomach, no one knows what you have not eaten. You are judged by the way you appear to the world, so always be neat, clean, and strong.’ So I could never let prison defeat or change me. My people are warriors. We will choose death every time over enslavement and oppression, so I am deeply offended by hard-faking African-American Muslims. The ones I have met in prison are, for the most part, pseudo-intellectual Uncle Toms – and for these people to dare judge Arabs as cowards and terrorists is an offense against the Koran. I will always challenge these cocker-roaches face-to-face, anytime, anywhere, when they offend the dignity of my people.”

Anger and bitterness are part of a natural diet for Palestinians. They are a people without a country – a people cast aside by the rest of the world so the Jewish people could be given a homeland in 1947 as some historical sources contend.

“The Jews were actively plotting to steal Palestine since the 1890s,” Ali said. “According to their own Torah, the House of Jacob, Jews were exiled from the Holy Land for their repeated sins. They were scattered over the face of the earth. They could not come together to form a nation until the ‘Messiah’ arrived. They did not accept Jesus Christ as the ‘Messiah’ and they still say that no ‘Messiah’ has arrived.

“Yet the British, at the direction of America, flooded Palestine with European Jews, most of who were living in camps, following World War II – and America was the main force behind the formation of the Jewish state in November 1947.

“This is exactly what Theodor Herzl advocated in 1896 in his book ‘The Jewish State’. It was Herzl’s writings that created the world politics necessary to ultimately bring about the 1947 Jewish state. But many Jews objected to Herzl’s proposed Jewish state because it would be created without a Messiah. But Herzl, and others like Chaim Weizmann and David Ben-Gurion, ignored the doctrines of Judaism and went ahead to create the Jewish state by theft.

“The Jews who stole my land for that state did it with the same greed and theft that caused God to exile all of the twelve Jewish tribes from the Holy Land. By stealing the Palestinian homeland, they once again offended their own God – not to mention their violations of human decency and honor.”

Ali did not believe that a Palestinian state could be created to co-exist with Israel.

“It’s like stealing a man’s shoes,” he said, “and, as a token of appeasement, offer him the shoe laces in return. I will have no truck with those appeasers and collaborators who would accept the shoe laces.

“Let me give you as an American a Southern analogy. You live in an exclusive all-white neighborhood. Your neighbors get together – they want to deal with the collective social guilt caused by Black slavery and the evils of segregation. So your neighbors decide to take your home and give it to a Black family – just give it to them, all the furnishings, everything. Of course, you are quite upset about it and complain to your neighbors that it is really unfair. Your neighbors tell you that it really was not your home – you were just paying for it, and since this Black family had suffered so much because of white-imposed segregation, it was in the interests of the neighborhood to give the Black family your home.

“You’re indignant, fighting mad, even openly rebellious. Your neighbors do not understand your petulance. They turn against you. They make you an outlaw family, telling everyone you do not deserve a home. You begin to attack other homes in the neighborhood, forcing your neighbors to take notice.

“Finally, your neighbors tell you that the best you can hope for is the right to live in the Black family’s garage. But you must live there in peace. So what was once the home of your car becomes the home of your family – and you are expected to co-exist in peace with the Black family that hates you and who are constantly throwing their garbage in the garage where you live. And the only means of support you have is to work for the Black family who controls your entire existence.”

The fire in Ali’s eyes grew white. Prison did not put it there, but it certainly gave it an enriched nuclear energy. Prison gave him time to read, study law, and analyze the reasons for the abuses he suffered. He became intense, committed, and determined to speak out about the Palestinian cause – a subject that was always in his mind because it was so prominent in the Arab-American culture. But it took the prison experience to intellectualize the cause for him; to think it through and understand it with a personal passion.

“The Palestinian freedom fighters have summarily executed collaborators in the streets of refugee camps,” Ali said, “and the world community cringed in shock and passed harsh judgments on them, especially those pussy-assed French. Yet the same world community found it heroic when the French resistance executed fellow Frenchmen who collaborated with the Germans in World War II – and true history teaches that there were more French collaborators than there were French freedom fighters.

“But let’s keep it personal. Imagine your white brother secretly reporting to the Black family all your efforts to resist and secure the return of your home – and he does it for extra crumbs of food. That kind of collaboration deserves execution, make no mistake about it. Don’t confuse this kind of execution with capital punishment as liberal Americans try to do. Like Americans, Arab governments tend to favor the death penalty as they have a right to do. But appeasers and collaborators are not criminals who violate social laws. They are traitors of a cause, of the family. They betray the group. Those who betray the group, causing death or injury to the group, or those who appease the enemy at the expense of the group, should be summarily executed – and the execution should be carried out so the group can see it. Collaborators and appeasers are worst than the enemy. They work under the cover of darkness and the veil of secrecy to do their treachery. I hold such people in utter contempt. They should be executed before the group, not just as an act of retribution but to send a deterrent message to others.”

Ali harbored the same harsh feelings toward African-American Muslim inmates. He viewed their faith, the core of their worship, as a betrayal of Islam, a sacrilege of the Koran. He considered them appeasers and collaborators with the enemy. Likewise, some African-American Muslim inmates held similar harsh view toward Arab-Americans Muslim inmates. This conflict had its genesis in the 9/11 attacks in the early 2000s.

“You’re a coward,” Ali told an African-American Muslim inmate. “You worship a religion that you bastardized on the soil of the country that enslaved you. You call it Islam. You would be killed in a true Islamic country. There is no such religion as Al-Islam or the Nation of Islam. Those religious doctrines are as foreign to Arab Muslims as Christianity. You are the same to me as one of those ‘born again Christians’. And you call yourself a warrior – you do not have the courage to shed an ounce of blood for true Islam.”

By the time Ali appeared before the Louisiana Board of Parole in November 2003, he had accumulated 190 disciplinary reports – most of them false. Those “write-ups” were the result of a system trying to break his will, his spirit. The Orleans Parish district attorney’s office and the New Orleans Police Department were there to oppose his parole. Still, the Palestinian managed to convince a reluctant, and conservative, parole panel to grant him parole. Ali walked out of the hearing room believing the prison war was over; that he had survived against the odds.

“You’re not going to win, Hamdan,” a DCI security colonel said outside the hearing room. “It ain’t gonna happen.”

As soon as the parole panel left the institution, Ali was given yet another false disciplinary report. This time for allegedly trying to smuggle a watch back into the prison. The report charged that Ali had swapped his watch for the watch of a family member who had attended the parole hearing. The report said he wanted to smuggle a better, more expensive watch back into the prison.

“The report itself defied logic,” Ali said. “Why would anyone who had just made parole want or need a watch?”

The disciplinary report accomplished what the colonel wanted. The parole panel returned to the institution several weeks later. Based on the disciplinary report, even though no one could produce the alleged contraband watch, the parole panel rescinded Ali’s parole, even though it expressed reservations about the factual accuracy of the report.

“I was devastated,” Ali said. “I knew how corrupt, how racist the prison system is. It had shown me that, but the parole board is a political entity. Somehow, I thought the parole board would be different – I mean, the colonel could not even produce the watch I was suppose to have smuggled back into the prison. The colonel was the only person who saw the watch. The write-up itself was eventually dismissed by the prison administration. But it was not dismissed before it sabotaged my parole. The episode made me realize that this is no game – the prison system had brutalized and tortured me in every way possible. Then it stole my freedom with a lie.”

This time Ali’s eyes revealed nothing. Yet I could see those eyes not betraying a concealed vest bomb under a coat.

“Can you imagine what it’s like to be hated for no reason?” he asked. “Palestinians are hated not for anything we did but because of what was done to us and our refusal to accept it. The DCI colonel lied on me not because of anything I did but because of what he thinks I represent as an Arab-American – terrorism, suicide bombings, violence. His hatred, and his willingness to act against us because of that hatred, not only explains but justifies Palestinian ‘terrorism’. You will always get the worst from a people you have deprived of their humanity, their right to exist.”

Ali reached for his Koran and turned quickly to a passage about peace.

“The Western world, particularly America,” he said, “must understand that Arabs have a right to their own destiny. They do not want Jeffersonian democracy or Western cultural influences. They will decide for themselves by any means necessary, even if it means revolution, what kind of government they will have. Muslims do not need Christianity – they can, and will, believe as they choose, and they will never accept the slightest imposition of Christians. We pose no threat to the rest of the world. We can co-exist in peace with the Western world, but we cannot accept being bastardized by any region of the world.”

After his parole was rescinded, Ali launched a full frontal assault against the DCI administration. He filed scores of grievances and complaints about conditions at the prison.

“I flooded them with paper,” he said.

It did not take the DCI administration long to react. The bogus disciplinary report for the alleged watch-smuggling incident was creating administrative problems. Everyone involved in the review process of the report knew the colonel had lied, so to put the matter to rest the DCI administration transferred Ali to a private prison at Basile, Louisiana.

Basile was one of three private prisons in Louisiana. Like other private prison operations across the nation, private prisons in Louisiana were violent, corrupt, and horribly mismanaged. Gang activity, rapes, strong-arming, theft and drugs were prevalent in these facilities. The security staffs were underpaid, and receptive to bribes, especially female guards willing to trade sex for bribe merchandise.

The message of harassment preceded Ali at Basile. The racial taunts, physical abuse and false disciplinary reports greeted him at that facility as well. The favorite racial taunt at Basile was “sand monkey.” The taunt was calculated to provoke an angry outburst from Ali which inevitably led to another disciplinary report and a trip to lockdown.

In lockdown Ali was denied basic hygiene – clean clothes, toilet tissue and toothpaste. He was forced to sleep on the floor in a two-man cell because the guards put three inmates in the cell.

“Those abuses made me think a lot about terrorism,” Ali said. “My parents are peaceful people. My mother was an extremely kind and compassionate woman. When I was a boy, a little white girl fell and hurt herself on the concrete curb. The girl’s mother was standing in the yard several houses down the street, cursing. My mother ran outside her house, picked up the little girl, and took her inside where she cleaned and bandaged the girl. My mother cared for that child as though she was her own child. I told my mother that the people down the street did not like us. ‘She is a child, my son,’ my mother said. ‘Her heart is not spoiled with hate. In the face of hatred, you must offer peace and love – hatred for hatred only destroys people and offends God’.

“So, you see, terrorism is not a natural response for me – and I don’t think it is a natural response for most Palestinian people. But the Louisiana prison system – and I’m sure it’s the same in all American prisons – introduced me to what it is like to live powerless under a regime of absolute power. Any system of absolute power, as they say, rules absolutely. A Palestinian father who cannot feed his family, a Palestinian mother who watches her children die, and a Palestinian teenager who has no future are all victims of the terror produced by a system of absolute power. The absolute power the Israelis have wielded over the Palestinian people for decades has methodically inflicted more terrorism on my people than the suicide bombings by Palestinians have on the Israelis.

“Let me illustrate my point. A Palestinian sniper fires on a Jewish settlement. He kills a father and his three-year-old daughter. The Western world uniformly considers this an act of terror. Then the Israeli military fires a rocket from one of its helicopters in an assassination attempt on a suspected bomb maker killing a Palestinian father and mother along with their three children. The New York Times will report that ‘five civilians’ were killed in the ‘military attack’.

“The purpose of both attacks was not only to kill the targeted individuals but to invoke terror in the people. Terror has one single, unilateral objective – to instill fear in the masses. Organized governments created the concept of terror – not the revolutionaries or insurgents. America maintained its brutal system of slavery with terror – just as Genghis Kahn, Alexander the Great, Napoleon, and Hitler all used terror in their brutal conquests to rule the world. The Romans introduced the Jews to terror through both crucifixion and slavery.

“A mere reading of the Old Testament reveals many instances where Jews upon divine instruction from God attacked villages, killing every man, woman, and child as well as all the animals. How could there be a greater example of terrorism? How else would you describe such a divine edict from God ordering the slaughter of children? And, remember, these were horrible deaths, inflicted up close and personal at the point of a knife or a club.

“Yet a Palestinian teenager who detonates a bomb on a Jerusalem bus that kills himself and sixteen civilians is a ‘terrorist’. I will be the first to say that such an act is an act of terrorism. The very purpose of a suicide bombing is to spread terror – to instill a collective fear in the masses so that no public area is safe. Terror takes the individual fear of death and inflicts it upon the community psyche. People rather foolishly find comfort, security, and safety in numbers, in the group. A suicide bombing kills so indiscriminately that it shatters that collective feeling of security. An individual willing to kill himself to kill others defies normal logic.

“The Israeli military utilizes the same terror weapon to fight Palestinian freedom fighters. They try to inject enough terror on the community to keep the community from giving the freedom fighters a safe haven. This ‘military objective’ is the same as the objective of the suicide bomber – to spread the fear of death throughout the community.

“Palestinians did not create ‘terrorism’ – we simply co-opted it from the Israelis. The Jewish resistance groups fighting the British in the 1940s were called ‘outright terrorists’ groups by Robert St. John in his book ‘Builder of Israel’. These terrorist groups were fighting to steal my people’s homeland.

“If history teaches us nothing else, it teaches that oppressors have always used terror to maintain systems of oppression – you don’t have to be a history student to understand that. The continent of Africa is riddled with religious and cultural wars – and the governments in these countries are using unspeakable acts of terrorism to keep their power. This official terrorism has spawned countless insurgencies who have responded with their own acts of terrorism.

“The Western world is not shocked or outraged at the wholesale human slaughter in these African countries – not even African-Americans are offended. The Western world, and its controlled media, has used the word ‘terrorism’ as a propaganda tool – a way to legitimize oppression and outlaw any resistance to oppression. Can you seriously believe that the American people would accept that its government has systematically oppressed the Arab world? Or that the Israeli government has systematically oppressed the Palestinian people for five decades? The answer to both question is no. So when the people who are victims of oppression begin to organize a resistance to the oppression, and they do it in a violent way, they become terrorists.

“Yes, there are mercenary terrorists – those who inflict terror for the sake of terror. They are comparable to the elite special forces of the militaries of organized governments. And, yes, there are those in the ranks of the resistance who are criminal, corrupt, and murderous – just as many world leaders are criminal, corrupt and murderous. The bottom line is this – there would be no market for terrorism without oppression.”

Political violence has become a fixture in the Arab world. It has triggered a volatile debate among Arab intellectuals, political scholars, and Muslim clerics about why, and when, violence should be utilized to achieve political and religious objectives. The New York Times reported on this “holy war” debate in December 2004. The Times quoted Abel Sabour Shahin, a linguistics professor at Cairo University, who supports beheadings of civilians.

“When a missile hits a house,” Shahin told the Times, “it decapitates 30 or 40 residents and turns them to ash. Isn’t there a need to compare the behavior of a person under siege and angry with those who are managing the instruments of war?”

The Times also quoted Sheik Yousef Qaradani, a Qatari cleric who was host the Al-Jazeera program “Islamic Law and Life.”

“Resistance is a legitimate matter – even more, it is a duty,” the cleric said.

The American prison experience inculcated Ali with these same radical views. It was why he remained at war with the prison system until it freed him. Six months before he discharged his sentence he was transferred to Phelps. It was there we met.

“Mr. Sinclair, you have helped me a lot with your counsel and advice,” he told me one afternoon. “I will one day write about you in a book. I’ve never met a more neutral person in my life. You weigh all sides of an issue before you form an opinion. I admire you for that.”

Ali’s respect struck an emotional cord. I enjoyed the many conversations we shared about world events.

“You have taught me far more than I have taught you, Ali,” I said. “You provided me with a window into a world I’ve never looked at. I appreciate that. The greatest gift you can give a person is knowledge. Our paths have crossed briefly in life – and for a good reason. You put a face to the Palestinian cause for me. All I really gave you was a receptive ear – you filled it with knowledge.”

Ali became my “Palestinian doctor” in a casual way. I suffered with a rare neurological disorder that destroyed the muscle in the eyelids. The result of this rare form of ophthalmoplegia was severe ptosis in both eyes. I was forced to tape my eyelids open with band aids each day so that I could see. In effect, I was legally blind. My eyes were paralyzed in place. I could see only by looking directly in front of me or turning my head from side to side. The band aids attached to the eyelid and pulled up over the eyebrow allowed me to function normally. Initially it was a difficult task to perform each day.

“Let me help you with that, Mr. Sinclair,” Ali said one morning.

He took the band aids and deftly used fingernail clippers to tear off narrow adhesive strips. It took him only a few moments to have both eyelids neatly taped in place. He would start each day taping open my eyes. He did not take offense when I called him “my Palestinian doctor.” His steady hands and intense demeanor made it a professional operation – and he was not concerned with what other inmates thought.

“You have a need, Mr. Sinclair,” he said. “I can help you with that need. The judgment of others does not concern me. I do what I think it right – not what others think I should do.”

Gradually, Ali taught me how to apply the band aids on my own. The independence it gave me strengthened our relationship. It fueled our intellectual exchanges. In my four decade incarceration, I had never met a 24-year-old with so much intellectual maturity. While most of his knowledge was derived from reading, his views of the world and the political issues that shaped it were formed by his own innate intelligence. He read and listened not to develop a particular view but to enhance the texture of the view he has already formed.

Prison offers options to an inmate. He can choose to exist in an institutionalized vacuum or he can choose to live beyond the razor wire fences. Most inmates choose the institutionalized vacuum – a process that brings life to a standstill. The daily events and circumstances of prison are their only points of interest. If they think of life beyond the fence, it is generally a sojourn into the past; personal reflections embellished to compensate for the failure of their lives.

I always chose to live beyond the fence – a choice also made by Ali. The events of the world were important to us. We read – not for fictional entertainment but to focus our views on the outside world. We could care less who “went to the block” or who got “extra duty.”  We were not interested in the “lives and scandals of the stars” or what was happening on “The Young and The Restless.” We wanted to know what happened to Yassar Arafat and his missing billions or why “moral values” tilted a presidential election and reduced traditional political muck-raking to a grotesque fine art.

That’s why Ali’s view about a Palestinian “homeland” was important to me. He had given the issue a lot of thought.

“As a child,” he said, “I was told by my father, and other family elders, that my people came from a land called Palestine, from Jerusalem. This holy city has a history of extreme religious significance. It is the third holiest place in Islamic religion. I was not indoctrinated as a child. I was given only the essential facts about my culture. I knew my father did not like Zionists, but he reminded me that not all Jews are bad. He reserved his dislike for those who stole our homeland.

“My father was a man of few words. He was a man of action. He never beat or raised his voice in anger against me. He would just demonstrate through his actions the error of my thinking or my behavior. He did not use words to impress, so even when he said something that was trite, he managed somehow to make it unique. So he didn’t preach against the Jews – he simply made it clear that he didn’t like them and how much he loved Palestine.

“My father never once said, or even indicated, that he did not like America. I believe he sincerely appreciated the opportunity this country gave him. But I know he didn’t like it when America went to war with Iraq in the Gulf War. He loved the fact that Saddam was attacking Israel with missiles. Saddam represented lost Arab pride with those attacks.

“There is an article in the PLO charter which states that ‘The Palestinian personality is a permanent and genuine characteristic that does not disappear. It is transferred from father to son.’ My father transferred that ‘permanent’ Palestinian personality to me. I share his dislike of the Israelis.

“But every Palestinian, man or woman and no matter his or her place of birth, must come to terms with what the world calls the ‘Palestinian Question.’ I have answered this question in my heart. First, I came to the realization that my people cannot deal with Israel in moderation. Moderation will always be viewed as weakness by the Israelis – and weakness will only invite more aggression and oppression from them.

“I recognize the right of Jews to exist. I just don’t recognize their claimed right to exist in the homeland of my people. I do not recognize the sovereignty of the state of Israel – it is a nation created through fraud and theft. I cannot see any co-existence between a Palestinian state and a Jewish state. The international community created this dilemma that now has much of the world engulfed in violence.

“I truly believe that the very existence of the state of Israel is an incurable cancer in the world body – and its evil malignancy is spreading throughout the body of the world. The PLO has always held that the essence and destiny of Arab existence are tied to the Palestinian question. This is no longer a regional question, an issue between Jews and Arabs. The violence spawned by this explosive issue has struck the heartlands of the world’s super powers. The roots of the terrorism we see in this world today sprouted from the fertile soil of the Palestinian question.

“The world’s super powers can no longer impose their will on the world – certainly not on the Arab people. This point should have been absolutely clear to America by Vietnam and to Russia by Afghanistan. The Palestinians have made the same point to Israel for decades – and the Iraqis are making the same point to America. So I will say this as forcefully as I can – the world’s super powers cannot impose the state of Israel on the Arab people.

“How do you liquidate a nation without the annihilation of its people? I don’t know the answer to that critical question. What I do know is that there will never be a true and lasting peace in the Middle East so long as the state of Israel exists. And creating a Palestinian state will not buy peace – it will only allow yet another Arab state to arm itself and point its weapons at the heart of Israel.

“Can you possibly believe that a separate Palestinian state will bring peace with the Israelis? Certainly not. The Jewish people have never been able to live in peace with anyone. They could not live in peace with their own God who made them the Chosen People. And, now, they live on stolen land – and left to their own choice, they would try to drive all the Arab people into the Red Sea.

“The Arab people will never try to establish a Hitler-like solution to the Jewish issue. As an Arab-Palestinian, I simply want to see the state of Israel absolved. I don’t care if the Jewish people decide to live in the Arab world, just as they now live in other parts of the world – and I would not care if the world’s super powers created a nation for them in the South Pacific. But these super powers, and the Jewish people, will learn one day that the state of Israel cannot be imposed on the Arab world, ever.”

I had always accepted, without much thought, the right of Israel to exist. The

“Palestinian question” was an abstract issue. But sitting on prison foot lockers in long conversations with my Palestinian doctor forced me to think about this troubling dilemma. I realized the world is being held hostage by those who subscribe to the Koran and the Holy Bible. The seed of Abraham has sown upon humanity a bitter harvest of never-ending violence. One look at the rabid face of a Jewish settler or the fanatical face of a Palestinian Fatah member reveals that the death of the other is the only solution that will satisfy them. The two extremes will never allow peace to exist.

“The real issue is, and always had been,” Ali said, “might is right. Let me illustrate – a Palestinian freedom fighter demands that Israel dissolve itself or surrender to the Palestinian people. Israel refuses. The Palestinian freedom fighter detonates himself in a crowd of Israelis civilians. He kills a dozen of them.

“America in 1945 demanded the surrender of Japan. Japan refused. America dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki – both non-military targets. The bombs killed nearly one million civilians.

“Japan bombed Pearl Harbor. They were obviously determined to defeat America and occupy the country. America declared war against Japan in response to what President Roosevelt called a ‘day that will live in infamy’. It was recognized as a just war.

“Israel stole Palestine. The Palestinian people declared war against Israel. Yet our war has been universally called ‘terrorism’.

“The difference between our ‘war’ and the ‘American ‘war’ is might – we lack the ‘might’ to be right. An overwhelming percentage of the world’s population believes that the Palestinians are ‘right’ – but right has no enforcement power without ‘might’.”

A dorm officer had been listening to our conversation. He was clearly irritated by Ali’s views. He walked over to our bed area.

“Shakedown, Hamdan,” he said, interrupting the conversation.

The guard searched through all of Ali’s personal belongings, deliberately leaving everything in disarray when he was finished. Ali knew why the guard had done it but said nothing. He was completely calm, revealing no emotion.

“America is trying to do the same thing in Iraq,” he continued, refusing to let the guard’s presence disrupt his flow of thought. “Using might to make the invasion and occupation of that country right.

“Where does America, and particularly George Bush, get off deciding that there had to be a regime change in Iraq, and then decide it would impose its notion of democracy on the Iraqi people.

“The power behind that imperialistic assumption is the same power that said the Jews had a greater right to Palestine than the Palestinians did.

“The arrogance of this kind of power created the Iraqi freedom fighters – what America elects to call the ‘insurgency’. These freedom fighters know they cannot defeat the ‘might’ of the American military in an open confrontation. They are out-numbered. The Roman general Fabius Maximus defeated Hannibal with the same strategy – he engaged Hannibal in a series of small battles, running after each small victory. That’s the only way right can defeat might.

“Do Americans really believe that a man who drives a bomb-rigged vehicle into a military checkpoint or a man who attacks a tank with an Ak-47 is a terrorist or an insurgent?

“He’s a warrior fighting an occupying force. He is not motivated by politics. He does not really care who runs Iraq. He simply will not accept an American rule, or the rule of American collaborators – just as Americans would not accept the rule of Japan.

“If a foreign power had refused to accept the legitimacy of George Bush’s stolen victory over Al Gore and decided there was a need for a regime change, and after bombing and attacking American cities, they occupied America and installed Al Gore as president, what do you think Americans would have done?

“Of course, they would have fought, and with any means necessary – just as the Iraqis are doing and just as the Palestinians have done for the past five decades. Believe me, terrorism would have become a legitimate weapon of the American resistance. There would have been suicide bombings and brutal attacks on non-military targets by the resistance. These acts of resistance would be called attacks for liberty, freedom, and democracy.”

Ali’s social views tracked with his political views.

“I do not believe in the social ‘melting pot’ theory,” he explained. “I believe that different cultures and races should be unique. They should cooperate and work for the good of society, but they should not mix. I would never marry a non-Palestinian woman. I would dishonor my culture, my family if I did. Preserving one’s culture is important to me – cultural and racial mixing produces a bastardized society. We should never believe that one race or culture is superior to another, but we should believe that our culture and race are unique.

“I do not recognize ‘political correctness’ – words are meant to convey human feelings, good and bad. What’s good for one society is bad for another – but we have every right to believe that our culture and race is unique, and should be preserved. I do not expect Americans to understand Palestinians. What I do expect, and demand, is that Americans let Palestinians be Palestinians.’

Mazen “Ali” Hamdan was one of the most unique individuals I met in prison. He defied normal description. He spoke like a terrorist, but he was not a terrorist. He held racist views but was not a racist. He provoked thoughts with his ideas. He was mature beyond his years, and more intelligent than his formal education. He would be a good man to share a fox hole with.

Yet there was an invisible wound in this young man’s spirit. He was a man without a country.

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THE SOCIAL MEMORY OF INJUSTICE MUST NEVER FADE

Alexei Navalny is dead.  The international justice crusader was murdered in a rugged Russian Arctic penal colony either on the direct orders of Russian President Vladimir Putin or with his official blessing. His murder was timed to coincide with the Munich Security Conference where his wife, Yulia, was attending to reinforce her husband’s campaign for justice in Putin’s corrupt Russia.

Alexei Navalny’s memory will not die, forgotten amongst the other skeletons in Putin’s dark political closet.

But this article is not about Alexei Navalny, but rather about the tragic saga of two American Black men, Henry McCollum and Leon Brown, who were brutalized for more than three decades by the American criminal justice system.

Kenneth Snead was 75 years of age when he died on January 11, 2019 in Wilmington, North Carolina. He spent 34 of those 75 years in law enforcement, a significant number of which were spent as an agent with the North Carolina State Bureau of Investigation (SBI).

On September 24, 1983, 11-year-old Sabrina Buie went missing in Red Springs, North Carolina, a rural community in the northern part of Robeson County. Her raped and murdered body was found in a local soybean field near a convenience store. The Red Springs Police Department and the SBI worked the investigation together. The SBI assigned the investigation to Snead and Leroy Allen while the Red Springs Police Department assigned Detectives Joel Garth Locklear and Kenneth Sealey to simultaneously work the case.

On September 27, 1983, Detective Locklear, while canvassing the area for possible witnesses, spoke to Henry McCollum. The following evening Agent Snead and Detective Sealy spoke to a white high school girl named Ethel Furmage who told the investigators that she had “heard at school” that McCollum “had something to do with” Buie’s murder—a statement the girl later recanted.

That white girl’s rumor was enough for Snead and Sealey to pick up McCollum and escort him to the local police station where he was fingerprinted and booked. The young Black man, who had the mind of a 9-year-old child and an IQ of 56, was then subjected to a four-hour interrogation during which he was badgered, yelled and cursed at, and endured a litany of racial slurs.

Under the threat that he would be sent to the gas chambers if he did not admit to the Buie rape and murder, McCollum confessed with the details provided to him by Snead and Sealey.

He then asked Snead, “Can I go home now?”

The details of McCollum’s coerced confession implicated not only his half brother, Leon, but three friends as well.

Red Springs Police Chief Luther Haggins and Detective Locklear then hauled Leon, who had an IQ in the mid-50s, into another interrogation room where he gave a coerced confession that conflicted with Henry’s confession.

It took these two cops just a half-hour to browbeat the 15-year-old Brown into confessing.

An ensuing investigation determined that the three friends implicated by McCollum could not have possibly been involved in the crime.

Based on those two patently coerced false confessions, the teenaged half-brothers were convicted and sentenced to death in October 1984.

They were tried together. Attorneys for both teenagers moved to have the coerced confessions suppressed. Those motions were denied. The two half-brothers both testified at the trial and repudiated their coerced false confessions.

Four years later the North Carolina Supreme Court reversed their convictions and ordered separate retrials. That ruling was based on erroneous jury instructions given at the first trial of the two teenagers.

The half brothers were then retried in adjacent counties—McCollum in Cumberland County in November 1991 where he was convicted and resentenced to death; and Brown in Bladen County in June 1992 where he was convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment. The false confessions were once again used to secure convictions against the two mentally challenged young men.

During his nearly two decades on death row, McCollum witnessed 42 people being led off death row to be executed—one of who was a close friend.

After seeing the friend’s body carted away, McCollum experienced a “nervous breakdown.”

McCollum’s case in particular became so notorious that in 2014 the late Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia cited its brutality as a basis for having the death penalty as did the North Carolina legislature in 2010.

The systemic racism in the American criminal justice system is so rioted that an acclaimed justice of the U.S. Supreme Court would target a man with the mind of a 9-year-old child as a social and legal basis to have the death penalty.

In 2009, Leon Brown took it upon himself to write a letter to the North Carolina Innocence Inquiry Commission (“NCIIC”) asserting his and McCollum’s innocence. He urged the Commission to investigate their case. The NCIIC agreed.

The Commission’s ensuing investigation discovered that DNA found at the crime scene belonged to a serial sex offender—a subsequent murderer who had been briefly questioned by investigators in the Buie case. This offender lived just one block from the crime scene. His likely involvement in the Buie murder was not followed up on by the DA’s office. The sex offender went on to rape and kill again.

Other pieces of evidence found at the crime scene were analyzed. Those tests revealed no DNA link to either McCollum or Brown.

In 2014, based on this newly-discovered DNA evidence, the half-brothers, with the assistance of the NCIIC and pro bono attorneys, moved to have their convictions set aside. The Robeson County District Attorney’s Office did not contest this innocence effort. Their convictions were set aside.

On June 5, 2015, North Carolina Gov. Pat McCrory granted the men full pardons of innocence.

In the wake of Gov. McCrory’s pardon, the State of North Carolina paid each man $750,000 in compensation for the three decades they had been wrongfully imprisoned—a pitiful amount considering the way they were demonized by law enforcement officials like Kenneth Snead, the late Supreme Court justice Antonin Scalia, and an entire North Carolina legislature.

But there the suffering from injustice was not over for the freed half-brothers.

People who said they loved the two men and only wanted to help them immediately undertook corrupt efforts to abuse them. An attorney, a guardian and family member ripped off the two men of most of their compensation money.

The New York Times reported in 2018 that the financial abuse by supporters, memories of being repeatedly raped in prison, and the 30 years of wrongful imprisonment ultimately forced Leon Brown into seven different psychiatric facilities.

It would take the North Carolina Bar three more years before they held the attorney accountable for the financial abuse he inflicted on the brothers.

On March 21, 2021, the North Carolina State Bar Disciplinary Hearing Commission suspended the law license of Patrick Megaro for five years—a small price to pay for his contribution to the psychological destruction of a client.

But, finally, justice paid a visit to the wrecked lives of Henry McCollum and Leon Brown.

After just five hours of deliberation, an eight-person federal jury on May 14, 2021 awarded each man $31 million—one million for each year they were wrongfully imprisoned—and $13 million in punitive damages.

In addition to that $75 million judgment, the Robeson County Sheriff’s Department agreed to pay the brothers $9 million for its role in their wrongful conviction.

The Washington Post reported on May 16, 2021 that the federal court had appointed guardians to oversee the brothers’ damage award money.

As of 2021, Henry McCollum had started a new life with a girlfriend in southern Virginia while Leon Brown was living in a long term care facility in North Carolina under 24-hour caretaker supervision. An obituary search does not disclose the death of either man.

One thing is certain: both men remain tortured souls—McCollum with memories of his suicide attempt after seeing his best friend’s body being carted away following the man’s execution and haunted by memories of the pleas for life by the other 42 men he saw walk to their executions while Brown relives the brutalities associated with repeated prison rapes fearing that God will not allow him into the Kingdom of Heaven because of Sodomy Sin.

There is no sorry or amount of money to atone for the damages that SBI Agent Kenneth Snead and his fellow law enforcement cohorts—along with the district attorney, Justice Antonin Scalia, and the entire 2010 North Carolina Legislature—inflicted on the lives of these two defenseless, intellectually disabled Black  men.

Alexei Navalny was the voice of all people, especially the oppressed, who have been brutalized by corrupt and racist criminal justice systems around the world. Cases like Henry McCollum and Leon Brown teach us that the social memory of injustice must never fade.

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JOHNNY CASH AT ANGOLA

Johnny Cash played his last prison concert on November 6, 1980 at the Louisiana State Penitentiary—more commonly known as “Angola.”

I was there at the time, and very much a part of the activities surrounding that event. I recently watched the Paramount+ documentary “June”—a chronicle of the life story of June Carter Cash, Johnny’s wife. It ushered the memory of that Johnny Cash concert back into my mind. Here is what I recall about that day.

I was co-editor of the prison’s awarding-winning newsmagazine, The Angolite. Wilbert Rideau was the publication’s other co-editor. Rideau and I had been together as the publication’s primary writing team since 1977. With the approval of Louisiana Correction Secretary C. Paul Phelps, we had transformed the publication from a “prison rag” into a national and international acclaimed newsmagazine. We worked under the supervision of Assistant Warden Peggy Gresham who gave us a lot of leeway in how we did our jobs.

Several days before the concert Gresham walked into the office unannounced as she sometimes did.

“Wait till I tell you guys what is next on our agenda,” she said.

“As if we don’t already have enough,” Rideau replied, laughing. “Okay, okay, so what do you have for us?”

“Johnny Cash is doing a concert next week in the rodeo arena for all the inmates,” she said. “And if that is not enough to get your attention, his representative told me that he personally wants to meet “those two convict editors” and have his picture in The Angolite. That’s all he wants for doing this free concert.”

Rideau and I looked at each other.

“Hey, I’m the country music fan,” I said, “I know ‘Walk the Line’ by heart.”

“My only concern,” Gresham interjected, “is whether our black inmates will show up—it’s not like Johnny Cash is their favorite music artist.”

“The brothers will be there,” Rideau assured. “I promise you that. That’s my Joe Namath guarantee.”

Rideau fulfilled the guarantee. He personally spoke to every black leader in the prison urging, even cajoling them to turn out big for Johnny Cash.

“You want me and my lifers to go to some Hee-Haw, shit-kicking concert?” Monroe Green asked incredulously.

“Hell yes,” Rideau answered. “Outside media will be there. The brothers need to show up in force. You owe me, Monroe. Pack the brothers in that arena for me. Hell, you might even get a cultural education out of all this.”

And the black inmates did pack the arena—several thousand of them. The arena was drenched in rain the night before. A mist hung over the overcast day. The stage was set up for the performance when Rideau and I arrived. Chairs had been placed in the middle of the arena for Republican Gov. Dave Treen, his entourage, a large contingent of prison and corrections officials, and several political dignitaries accompanying the governor.

Rideau and I shook hands with Johnny Cash, his band, and a number of other people with the group.

“All I want is my picture in that Angolite,” Cash said, with a hearty smile. “So I expect you fellas to get some good shots of me and that crowd I’m about to make go wild.”

“You got it, Mr. Cash,” I said.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up there guys,” he replied. “Don’t call me mister. I’m no mister to you. I’m Johnny Cash. I’m here for you, because of you two. If there is any mister-calling around here, it will be me calling y’all mister. We on the same page here?”

“Yes, we are, Johnny,” I answered. “In fact, I have an older brother named Johnny.”

“Good,” the singer responded. “You know how to say the name.”

The entire group laughed.

In the meantime, the officials and dignitaries were seated observing the interplay between Rideau and I and the musician with his entourage. Some were obviously agitated having to wait for a performance they believed was being put on for them. The governor’s stare alone said he was not pleased that we were receiving all the interest and favor from Cash. That’s not the way he believed things were suppose to go—two celebrated convicted killers hob-knobbing with a country music legend.

The band slowly gathered on the stage, laughing and chatting as they tested the sound equipment. Cash had his stage manager turn the stage away from the official dignitaries and pointed towards the huge crowd of inmates sitting in the stands behind double razor-wire fences.

The Man in Black then took the stage, facing the inmates.

“Hello, I’m Johnny Cash,” he announced his trademark opening. “Thanks for coming out today in this lovely weather. I know there are a lot of other things you fellas could be doing—pickin’ cotton, washing clothes, mopping floors … and all those other things they make you do for free.”

The crowd gave a rousing applause.           

“If you notice fellas,” Cash told the inmates, “this stage is directed towards you. I’m here to play for you – not them.”

He pointed toward the dignitaries.

The inmate crowd came to its feet, erupting in a full-throated roar of cheers of approval that could be heard across the entire Main Prison Complex.

“I hear the train a-comin’, it’s rollin ‘round the bend …” Cash opened.

The inmates start clapping, stomping their feet in approval.

They were jubilant, the dignitaries squirmed.

Rideau and I moved about taking pictures of Cash, the band, and the inmates who loved the concert. But I kept an eye on the dignitaries. I occasionally caught glimpses of the governor sitting, arms folded, not pleased. Phelps and Angola Warden Frank Blackburn stood a short distance from the dignitaries. They were both uncomfortable.

It was at that point I realized that the dignitaries had traveled to the prison thinking Johnny Cash had come to perform for them. Some were furious that one of country music’s most revered entertainers told thousands of inmates he had come to perform for them, not the dignitaries.

Rideau and I became the target of some of their frustration and anger. We had personal access to Johnny Cash, they didn’t. That definitely rubbed Gov. Treen the wrong way—our enjoying that kind of freedom in the state’s most maximum security penal facility. He expressed his displeasure to Phelps and Blackburn about that appearance before leaving the prison.

Phelps dropped by The Angolite office later that afternoon.

“Well, you two certainly outdid yourselves today,” he said. “You managed to piss off the Governor by having Johnny Cash sing directly to the inmates, not to mention that Warden Blackburn had them sitting in the mud while Cash sang and twanged. What else can this prison do to me today?”

“Hold it, Mr. Phelps,” Rideau answered.. “We had nothing to do with that stage arrangement. I heard Johnny Cash tell his stage manager to correct it so he would be playing to the inmates.”

“I know that, Wilbert,” Phelps replied. “But that’s not the perception, and perception is all that matters in the world of those people who sat in the mud. The governor made that clear to me before he left.”

“A perception about us?” I asked.

“Let’s leave it at this—the governor was not pleased with what he saw.”

Phelps got up and walked out of the office.

Rideau and I sat in silence for a moment.

“Well,” Rideau said, after a moment of reflection, “I don’t think Gov. Treen will be attending anymore Johnny Cash concerts.”

“And I don’t think Johnny Cash gives a fuck,” I replied, laughing.

We closed the door on the subject with me saying:

“Wilbert, I will remember this day for all my days, not because I got to meet Johnny Cash, shake his hand, and interview him, but because I got to see that puny little governor dressed in a blue suit whose pants legs were above his ankles wearing those shined black Thom McAn shoes and white socks tippy-toeing through the mud with that mud splotching those pretty shoes and white socks. What other state in all these United States could you find a governor who wears blue suits, black shoes and white socks? That almost equals the country song ‘Rednecks, White Socks and Blue Ribbon Beer.’”

“What do you say,” he proposed, “let’s call it a day … go to the gym and play a little racquetball.”

“Sounds good to me.”

One final anecdote to this story: We interviewed Cash in his tour vehicle. He offered us a cold beer from his small refrigerator. We graciously declined the offer.

“Look, you fellas do not have to worry about The Man while in here with me,” he insisted. “This is my deal in here – screw them out there.”

We still declined.

Cash seemed disappointed.

Seeing him just months before his death at June’s funeral, I looked back on that day and thought, “I should’ve just drank the goddamn beer.”

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THE ADNAN SYED INJUSTICE SAGA CONTINUES

Adnan Syed murder case in the state of Maryland illustrates the systemic problems in the American criminal justice system.

A March 28, 2023 decision by the Appellate Court of Maryland (previously the Special Court of Appeals of Maryland) continues the horrific saga of injustice that Syed has endured since his arrest for the murder of an 18-year-old high school student, Hae Min Lee, in Baltimore in 1999.

Lee’s body was discovered in a shallow grave on February 9, 1999 in Baltimore’s Leakin Park. A subsequent autopsy revealed she died by strangulation.

17-yeaar-old Adnan Syed became an initial suspect in Lee’s murder because he had dated her through most of 1998.

The police investigation into Syed actually began just three days after Lee’s body was discovered when authorities received an anonymous telephone call informing them that Syed killed Lee because he was “angry” over their romantic breakup.

Syed was arrested for Lee’s murder on February 28, 1999.

The arrest came after detectives accessed Syed’s cell phone records which showed he called two individuals, Jay Wilds and Jennifer Pusateri, after Lee’s disappearance on January 13, 1999.

Police questioned both.

Wilds confessed to detectives that he had helped Syed bury Lee’s body, and Pusateri told detectives that Wilds had confided in her about his role in burying Lee’s body.

Syed was then formally charged with Lee’s murder.

His first trial ended in a mistrial in December 1999 after jurors overheard a remark by the trial judge calling Syed’s defense attorney “a liar.”

A second trial, conducted in February 2000, resulted in Syed being convicted of first-degree murder, kidnapping, false imprisonment, and robbery.

He was sentenced to life imprisonment in June of that year.

His automatic direct appeal was denied by the Appellate Court of Maryland in March 2003.

The following is a timeline of the post-conviction events that have taken place in the Syed case:

  • In May 2010, Syed filed a post-conviction application with nine claims challenging the legality of his conviction in the Baltimore trial court.
  • After conducting a two-day evidentiary hearing, the trial court denied all nine claims for post-conviction relief in January 2014.
  • Syed timely sought leave to appeal the post-conviction denial to the Court of Special Appeals of Maryland which was granted in February 2015.
  • The appeals court remanded the case in May 2015 for further proceedings based on an affidavit Asia McClain, a potential alibi witness.
  • Pursuant to that remand order, the trial court conducted a five-day evidentiary hearing in February 2016 after which it granted Syed a new trial based on ineffective assistance of counsel.
  • In August 2016, the State filed a timely notice of appeal in the Court of Special Appeals seeking review of the new trial order. The appeals court agreed to hear the state’s appeal.
  • In March 2018, appeals court adopted the trial court’s finding that Syed was entitled to a new trial.
  • In March 2019, the Court of Appeals of Maryland, in a 4-3 decision,  reversed the appeals court’s new trial order and reinstated Syed’s conviction, even though the court found that Syed had received ineffective assistance but was not “prejudiced” by it.
  • That same month—March 2019—HBO began to air a four-part series, “The Case Against Adnan Syed.” That documentary offered the finding that DNA tests conducted at the request of Syed’s new attorneys did not find anyone else’s DNA on Lee’s body or her personal belongings.
  • In November 2019, the U.S. Supreme Court declined to review the Court of appeals’ narrow decision.

That did not end the Syed case’s demand for justice.

The Adnan Syed case drew national and international media attention as evidence of his innocence continued to mount. Syed’s attorney—Erica Suter with the Baltimore Public Defenders’ Office and the Baltimore University’s Innocence Project—convinced the Baltimore State’s Attorney’s Office in 2021 to reopen the case on the issue of “actual innocence.”

While that combined year-long investigation did not conclusively reach an actual innocence finding, it did uncover serious Brady violations in the prosecution of Syed, as well as significant new information about two other individuals’ involvement in Lee’s murder. Further, the investigation developed serious reliability issues concerning critical pieces of evidence used to prosecute Syed.

These serious factual findings and prosecutorial flaws was enough for the State’s Attorney’s Office to file a motion on September 14, 2022 to vacate Syed’s conviction.  The motion stated that “the interests of justice and fairness” demanded a new trial, especially since the State’s Attorney’s Office had lost “confidence in the integrity of [Syed’s] conviction.”

Five days later Baltimore Circuit Court Judge Melissa M. Phinn granted the state’s motion and ordered a new trial in the case.

Adnan Syed walked out of the courthouse on a personal recognizance bond.

The following month, October 11, the State’s Attorney’s Office dismissed all charges against Syed following a one-minute court hearing. He was effectively a free man.

It was at this point that the Syed case took one of the most bizarre turns in the annals of law.

Young Lee, Hae Min Lee’s brother, immediately filed motions in both trial court and the Appellate Court of Appeals permissible under Maryland law to stay any further proceedings in the case because he had not been given “adequate notice” to appear at the September 14, 2022 hearing to speak against the motion to dismiss.

What governmental interest is served by letting a crime victim’s relative have a voice in a legal proceeding in which serious constitutional violations are at issue is beyond normal comprehension. The September 14 hearing had nothing to do with either the victim or her relatives. The legal purpose of that hearing was to put in the trial record compelling evidence that the State of Maryland had engaged in serious prosecutorial misconduct to convict Adnan Syed for Hae Min Lee’s murder.

After some preliminary procedural wrangling, the Appellate Court of Maryland ruled that Young Lee’s victims’ rights had been violated in the trial court proceedings which led to the reversal of Syed’s convictions for constitutional violations. The appeals court specifically held:

“Therefore, we vacate the circuit court’s order vacating Mr. Syed’s convictions and sentence, which results in the reinstatement of the original convictions and sentence. We remand for a new, legally compliant, transparent hearing on the motion to vacate, where Mr. Lee is given notice of the hearing that is sufficient to allow him to attend in person, evidence supporting the motion to vacate is presented, and the court states its reasons in support of its decision.”

It is reasonable for crime victims should be kept apprised of all legal proceedings prior to the trial of an offender, and they should have a voice at sentencing hearings, but, with all due respect to the Maryland legislature and its constitutional protection of victims’ rights, the family of a crime victim should not have any voice at a hearing to determine whether an offender’s fundamental constitutional rights have been violated.

The constitutional Rule of Law is more important—dare it be said more sacred—than any revenge-seeking interests a crime victim or a crime victim’s survivor may have in determining how the Rule of Law should be applied.

The police cannot beat or torture a confession out of a guilty offender; the police cannot seize incriminating evidence from a guilty offender’s home without a warrant; and the prosecution cannot lie, cheat, suppress evidence, or use perjured testimony. The U.S. Constitution safeguards the rights of all people, guilty or innocent.

That is the essence of the Rule of Law.

Crime victims and/or their survivors, as a rule, do not care if these constitutional violations take place. They have one interest: convict the wrongdoer at any cost and punish them to the fullest extent of the law.

Whether or not Adnan Syed killed Hae Min Lee is not the issue anymore. The issue, and the only issue now, is whether or not the Rule of Law was violated by the State of Maryland in convicting him.

Adnan Syed’s conviction is now on hold as the Maryland Supreme Court decides whether to uphold the lower ruling.

Whatever the outcome in the Syed case, Young Lee’s revenge should not play a role in it.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This article previously appeared in the August 9, 2023 The Crime Report.

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PRISON LETTERS

On September 9, 1981, I wrote the below paragraph in a letter to Jodie We had known each other a mere three months.

“I once told you that it is terribly important for you to believe in me – and while my life is a chronicle of failure and tragedy, I’ve never failed a single individual who believed in me. Perhaps more should make my world tick, but I strive harder, work longer when there are stakes on the table. When I walk out that prison front gate, and I most assuredly will one day, I need for you to be there and to know that you believe in me. I will climb any mountain or surmount any obstacle for you. Some men climb mountains because they are there and they see a challenge in it but in a hundred years it is all academic. But it will not be academic if I climb that mountain for you and will be able to look into your eyes and say, ‘I did it for you.’ That is the significance of life, and, yes, as Sartre has written, death may rob it of that significance, just as the beach deprive the single grain of sand any significance. But for that blessed instance that I am able to stand there, hold you in my arms, and stare into your, that will be all the significance I need in life. In fact, no one should expect anything more.”

This morning, some 43 years later, I shared another of the tens of thousands of moments Jodie and I have experienced together—holding each other, looking into the other’s eyes, and knowing that as the sand eases down in the hour glass life has been significant for us. Our love—the very existence of love itself—rejects Sartre existentialism teaching that we are born of nothing, live for nothing, and die into nothingness. The love we have for a spouse, parent, a child, a sibling, a relative, or a friend—and even a pet we cherish with love—makes this life significant.

With tragedy all around us, and there is so much of it in today’s world, human love is still alive and rescuing each of us in our own way.

I made a promise of love to Jodie 43 years ago. That love has never wavered, not in a single moment.

The significance of that is: a promise kept.