Mumia at 25

A quarter century after Daniel Faulkner's murder, the Abu-Jamal case still brings protests, appeals.

by Michael Washburn

Justice

It's a charged atmosphere as thousands of students wait for the heavyset hero to stride onto the Temple University auditorium stage. When he arrives, Michael Moore is greeted by thunderous applause. It's October 2004, and Moore is here — initially, at least — to skewer two sacred cows: the Bush administration and the war in Iraq. He calls on widows and survivors to tell of the hell they've been through, and their testimony strikes a collective nerve. Moore is master of the event until his speakers leave the stage and an outraged voice cries out, "What about Mumia?"

This diverts attention and sets off a firestorm of catcalls while impassioned activists start marching up and down the aisles. Moore, according to a contemporary account in the sympathetic newspaper Socialist Action and others present, then makes an embarrassed apology for having admitted in his 2003 book Dude, Where's My Country? that the evidence indicates pretty clearly that Mumia Abu-Jamal, a radical journalist and part-time cab driver, shot and killed police officer Daniel Faulkner on Dec. 9, 1981.

Moore gushes contrition and tells the audience that Abu-Jamal should get a new trial. Many in the audience find his apology immensely pleasing, and their faith in him flourishes anew.

As the 25th anniversary of Faulkner's murder approaches this weekend, Moore's sheepish about-face highlights how the Abu-Jamal case still fixates and galvanizes people, and how holding a predetermined position is necessary for entry into either side of the debate: the society of radicals who support Abu-Jamal, or the Irish-American and pro-law-enforcement communities that oppose him.

LOCUST PLAGUE: This weekend's Mumia protests will center on what happened at this spot. Photo By: Michael T. Regan

The case still garners worldwide attention, with the European Parliament, the municipal government of Paris, members of South Africa's African National Congress, authors from Noam Chomsky to Toni Morrison, and celebrities from Susan Sarandon to Ed Asner all weighing in on Abu-Jamal's supposed innocence and persecution. They often claim that the police force and judicial system were bent on silencing a critic of racism, oppression and police brutality.

On Saturday, those wounds will open anew locally as — on the anniversary date — a massive rally is expected to draw thousands of Abu-Jamal supporters to City Hall for an event sure to spur an equally vocal counter-rally. But at this point it's about more than one man's guilt or innocence.

The case has snowballed into a referendum on a host of topics. Taking a position expresses where you stand on the death penalty, the appeals process, racism, police brutality, freedom of speech, civil disobedience and the rights of victims and survivors. As with abortion, the controversy may well go on forever. Neither side is likely to offer evidence that will resolve the debate.

But despite the philosophical deadlock, recent years have brought a flurry of activity.

On the social front, the Philadelphia Immigration Resource Center ran into trouble in April 2001 when it honored Martin Sheen and Daniel Berrigan with a Solas Award for their efforts helping the Irish and Irish Americans. The problem? Both were on-the-record Abu-Jamal sympathizers. Following the uproar in Philadelphia's Irish community, PIRC issued a statement qualifying its support. In paraphrase, they said: The group thinks these are super guys, though we may not see eye-to-eye with them on every issue. Can you live with that?

Faulkner's brothers, Thomas, Patrick, Lawrence and Ken-neth, couldn't. So, they responded with a letter that appeared in the May 2001 issue of the Irish Edition newspaper. "Bringing these people to a site that is within walking distance of where Danny gave his life in the line of duty is completely unacceptable and in poor taste," they wrote. "Cancel these invitations" to the awards ceremony.

The PIRC's board voted 13-6 against cancellation.

Even bigger trouble came in October 2003, when Abu-Jamal was given honorary citizenship in Paris, France, and a street in the suburb of St.-Denis was renamed in his honor. Reacting to police requests that St.-Denis nix the honor, Abu-Jamal attorney Robert R. Bryan fired off a letter to Paris Mayor Bertrand Delanoe saying such a stance is "insulting to people around the globe who are opposed to the death penalty and human-rights abuses." Accompanying this screed was a note from Abu-Jamal, stating that Philadelphia officials "are merchants of death who wish to trick you into their campaign to not only kill me, but to wipe my name from the face of the earth."

Yes, Abu-Jamal is eager to portray himself as the victim of a racist establishment hell-bent on marginalizing and silencing the voices of the oppressed. But he has enjoyed celebrity status and media opportunities that many mainstream writers would envy, with celebrities actively promoting him and his books before audiences of millions. As Michael Lutz, a representative of Philadelphia's Fraternal Order of Police Lodge No. 5, points out, Abu-Jamal and his defense team have taken extensive advantage of every loophole afforded by the system he so angrily decries. The FOP maintains that the appeals and arguments have gone on much longer than is usual in the case of anyone, white or black, convicted of a capital offense, let alone the murder of a police officer.

Today, passions are stoked again by the upcoming rally and last week's articles about mayoral candidate U.S. Rep. Chaka Fattah's support of a new trial.

"That's a huge issue with the FOP," says Lutz, "and our brothers and sisters across the country."

On the legal front, there has been a shot-down Supreme Court appeal (1998), an overturned death sentence (2001) and another rejected attempt to dismiss the conviction (2002). Then, this October, a fresh batch of claims and counterclaims resulted in the scheduling of yet another hearing on whether Abu-Jamal got a fair trial. Oral arguments are scheduled before the Third Circuit Court of Appeals for early 2007.

Don't expect anything groundbreaking, however. The defense team's recent motions hardly raise any points that prosecutors did not address years ago.

They argue that during the jury selection process, prosecutors used their allotted 20 objections to keep blacks off the jury, but lawyers for the city and for the Faulkner family objected to a number of jurors, some white and some black, who had admitted that they opposed the death penalty in principle, or had a bias in favor of Abu-Jamal after hearing his commentary on the radio. To date, no convincing evidence has been offered that proves anyone lost a seat on the jury on the basis of race, and a mixed-race jury handed down the verdict after deliberating for several hours.

The defense team has also tried to claim that the gun found next to where Abu-Jamal lay slumped, wounded by a bullet fired by the dying Faulkner, was a .44, while the slugs in the cop's body came from a .38. However, during a 1995 Post Conviction Relief Act (PCRA) hearing, testimony from George Fassnacht, a member of Abu-Jamal's defense team, established that a .38 let loose the shots that ended Faulkner's life. The gun was also shown to be a .38.

Unable to avoid the physical evidence, the defense team has called on witnesses who could not be found for previous appeals, but who had now turned up, necessitating a new appeal and an extension of the case for a few more years. For example, the defense team produced a witness, Pamela Jenkins, who tried to overturn key testimony from eyewitness Cynthia White, who said she saw Abu-Jamal pump the fatal shots into Faulkner after the officer stopped Abu-Jamal's brother, William Cook, for driving the wrong way at 13th and Locust streets with his headlights off.

Jenkins claimed that White had admitted to her, in private, that the Philadelphia police had coerced her testimony, and that she hadn't seen what she claimed to have. But during one of the PCRA hearings at which attorney Leonard Weinglass represented Abu-Jamal, it grew painfully clear that the defense team hadn't checked even basic facts about the witnesses; Jenkins claimed to have spoken with White in 1997, which would have been difficult considering that White passed away in 1992.

So, what's the new piece of evidence in the latest appeal?

The defense team is asserting that the original judge who sentenced Abu-Jamal was a racist who remarked that he hoped to "help [the police] fry the nigger." Ask the defense team if they can prove this, and they will say no. To make their case, they'll have to put words in a dead man's mouth, for Judge Albert Sabo died in 2002. And that, says Abu-Jamal's defense team on the eve of the Free Mumia protests, is what they'll try to do.

"Our goal," says Bryan, "is to see that the many wrongs which have occurred in this case are righted, and Mr. Abu-Jamal is granted a new trial. At the conclusion of that trial, we want him freed."