Italians try to save U.S. prisoner
By JOHN L. ALLEN JR.
NCR Staff Rome
He may have been little more than a blip on the radar screen in
the U.S. press, but for weeks the most talked-about American in Italy was Derek
Rocco Barnabei, executed in Virginia Sept. 14 for the alleged 1993 rape and
murder of his girlfriend. Barnabei was the grandson of an Italian
immigrant.
Attempts to save the life of Barnabei, 34, became a national
crusade in Italy, drawing the intervention of Pope John Paul II and every party
in parliament from the far right to the extreme left. Rallies and torchlight
protest marches took place all over the country as the date of execution drew
near. Italian television networks broadcast the countdown live, although it
happened at 3 a.m. local time.
Observers say the contrast between the business-as-usual approach
in America, where Barnabei was the fifth man put to death in Virginia alone
this year, and in Italy, where the death penalty has been banned for more than
a century, underscores the increasing gulf separating the United States and
Europe on capital punishment.
All 15 member states of the European Union abandoned the death
penalty decades ago, and European governments generally consider abolition a
fundamental human rights principle. The United States, meanwhile, carried out
98 executions in 1999, placing it behind China, Iran and Saudi Arabia, but
ahead of Uganda, Cuba and Thailand.
The U.S. is keeping embarrassing company, said Sergio
DElia, head of the Rome-based Hands Off Cain anti-death
penalty campaign, at a rally staged days before Barnabeis execution.
Two recent studies in the United States critical of the
application of capital punishment helped to fuel discussion here. A Justice
Department report released Sept. 12 appeared to bolster claims of racial bias,
concluding that over the past five years 75 percent of defendants for whom a
prosecutor has sought execution have been members of a minority group.
A second study, by Columbia University law professor James
Leibman, found that of 4,578 death penalty cases between 1973 and 1995, state
courts made errors 68 percent of the time, and 7 percent of convicted suspects
were later proved innocent. That finding suggests that some 320 persons were
once set to die -- or were executed -- who were not guilty.
Set against this backdrop of mounting doubt about the fairness of
American justice, the fate of Barnabei, whose grandfather came from Tuscany and
whose mother now lives in Italy, gripped the public imagination. Politicians
from across the ideological spectrum, both from Italy and the European Union,
flew in and out of Virginia attempting to win a reprieve.
The president of the European Parliament, Nicole Fontaine, fired
off a typical telegram: As the third millennium dawns, so the failure of
great civilized nations such as the United States, which exert considerable
influence in the world, to understand that the time has come for them, too, to
abolish this practice is now both out of step with the times and morally
indefensible.
Italian Prime Minister Giuliano Amato described the death penalty
in the United States as collective revenge.
Outside Romes Colosseum, where emperors once had people
killed and which has now become an international symbol of the crusade against
the death penalty, computer terminals were set up for visitors to send e-mails
to Virginia Gov. James Gilmore pleading for mercy.
On Sept. 14, John Paul II used his weekly audience to ask for a
halt to the execution: In the spirit of clemency of this Holy Year, I
once more add my voice to all those who ask that Derek Rocco Barnabeis
life not be taken, he said.
I also hope that the use of capital punishment can be
abandoned, given that the state today has other means of effectively
suppressing crime without denying the perpetrator the possibility of
redemption, the pope said.
Papal spokesperson Joaquín Navarro-Valls told reporters
that John Paul had appealed twice before for Barnabei through diplomatic
channels.
Italian anger over the execution became so intense that the U.S.
State Department took the highly unusual step on Sept. 15 of warning Americans
in Italy to take precautions against possible retaliation. To date no such
incidents have emerged, though the caution is in place for a month.
In part, the reaction to the Barnabei case was based on doubts
about his guilt. In the dramatic last few days before the execution, Gilmore
authorized DNA tests on samples taken from under the victims fingernails
for which Barnabeis defense team had long clamored. Even when those tests
pointed to his probable guilt, Barnabeis supporters and sympathetic
Italian journalists suggested the samples may have been contaminated during a
period when they were reported missing by the police.
Beyond factors specific to this case, however, observers say there
is a wide consensus here against the death penalty.
Its rooted in European history, where capital
punishment was an expression of absolutism, said James Walston, a
professor at Romes American University and a commentator on Italian
culture and politics for the International Herald-Tribune. For
many Europeans, the image is the king lopping your head off because you were
against his powers.
Walston said that it is often difficult for Europeans to
appreciate that in the United States the death penalty is carried out by
democratically elected governments and enjoys substantial popular support.
There is also something specifically Italian in the countrys
anti-death penalty fervor, Walston said. He used one word to describe it:
Doubt.
Italians are profoundly and quite justifiably hesitant about
their own legal system, he said. They are naturally opposed to any
decision you cant go back on. Its alien to their culture.
The European Union plans to introduce a resolution calling for a
worldwide moratorium on the death penalty in the General Assembly of the United
Nations in 2001. Observers expect the United States and China to join forces in
opposition.
John Allens e-mail address is
jallen@natcath.org
National Catholic Reporter, September 29,
2000
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