To Kill or not to Kill

When I used to live at the International House in Berkeley, California, among the many things I cherished were the communal meals in the beautiful and airy Spanish-structured dining hall. There, students of mostly graduate levels convene three times a day, not only to chomp on dorm-style "ethnic cuisine" and fantasize food from elsewhere, but also to socialize with fellow residents of diversed background, talk about school and current events, or catch up on President Bush's latest blunder.

In one of those cross-cultural conversations, I recall, an Italian student brought up the issue of capital punishment. What do we -- his non-European friends -- think of death penalty?

There was a fleeting moment of silent, followed by puzzled looks from the largely Asian congregation. But his inquiry was carefully sidestepped by way of shrewd switch of subject. The absence of answer however did not mean a lack of response; the gentle gesture of non-answer hinted out loud that his question was a tad too political.

The question of capital punishment is indeed culturally, if not ideologically, charged. Encyclopedias will tell you that most democratic and advance countries of Europe have abolished death penalty; many in Asia and Africa retain it; while non-democratic states generally implement it. Democracy, as the cultural fiction goes, champions human dignity and values human life. From this point of view, capital punishment is a violation of human rights. Consequently, countries that retain it are perceived to be less democratic, if not less enlightened.

But is the premise really that simple? Let's look at the conceptual history of penal systems, for which the book by historian-philosopher Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish, can be quite handy.

In the old Western society, punitive acts carried two important elements -- the spectacle and bodily pain.

Torture and executions like flogging, hanging, dismemberment and quartering were done in public arena, in the presence of large audience, so as to infuse the mass with gruesome spectacle of the consequence of crime. Mutilated body-parts of the penalized person were even posted on stakes for public display. Execution was done in such an elaborate and communal manner that Foucault characterizes it as "festival of punishment."

Meanwhile, the body of the condemned person was subjected to long-drawn-out, but calculated, torture so as to inflict maximum pain prior to the eventual killing. Intense physical pain was to carry the message that the state was capable of returning injuries to the offender with equal, if not more, violence. Simultaneously, it served as a deterrent force on the spectators.

As the European society and its penal systems evolved, torture came to be seen "inhumane." The old style festival of torture became marker of "barbarity." Executions disappeared, hidden from public view. Punishment shifted from the infliction of bodily pain to the confiscation of rights. A convicted person's rights over his/her body and freedom are taken away by way of incarceration. This is how modern prison came to symbolize the new logic of punishment.

Next to renunciating torture and execution, modern society creates disciplinary institutions that operate on human psyche. Such institutions work more toward self-discipline than as a deterrent force. They induce guilt rather than fear. For instance, if one today does not steal, even when no one is around to witness the act, it is because one is taught by the society, schools, and the law, that it is wrong to steal.

Thus to answer my Italian friend's question, most European countries have abolished capital punishment not because they have higher regard for human dignity, but because they can "afford" it. Economically developed states generally have better "civilizing" institutions such as schools, financially sufficient families, social security, legal protection, and reliable law enforcement. Combined, those elements produce citizens who can discipline themselves. They no longer need torture because, as Foucault might put it, they are imprisoned by their own psyche.

Now, not coincidentally, one finds echoes of the above assessments in the current debate on death penalty concerning the "Poso trio." Fabianus Tibo, Marianus Riwu, and Dominggus da Silva were sentenced to death for the killing of hundreds of Muslims during the 2000 communal conflict in Poso.

The lack of education and the condition of lawlessness have often been cited in defense of the three convicts. Tibo's son, Robert, repeatedly argued that his father's lack of formal education should disqualify him from accusation of masterminding the massacre.

This argument, however, inadvertently points the other way. It underscores the inaccessibility of school education for poor people like Tibo, which would have served as a civic institution that trained them to become responsible members of the society.

The absence of security and the impotence of police enforcement at the time of conflict in Poso were also mentioned as factors that compelled the offenders into lawless acts. As those in Tibo corner ask, if the authority wouldn't do anything, can one blame him for "taking matters into his own hands"?

To paraphrase their arguments in Foucaultian terms: criminal acts are not the result of inherent moral defect, but of the failure of civic institutions to produce law-abiding citizens. Thus for the government to simply punish the offenders -- with death penalty, no less -- would be to misplace the responsibility. Instead of recognizing the problem of crimes as the state's failure to provide effective civic institutions, the state chooses to kill precisely those it has failed.

In addition to the ethical issues on death penalty, legal proceedings of Tibo, Riwu and da Silva have become political and divisive as they are closely measured against the "Bali bombers" case. Defenders of Amrozi, Imam Samudra, and Ali Gufron -- on death row for the explosion in Bali in 2002 -- have argued that their executions cannot be carried out prior to those of the Poso case.

To be fair, the Bali trio would not be the first Muslims killed for anarchism. In the past ten months, Dr. Azahari Husin and four other Jemaah Islamiyah suspects were shot or blown to pieces (allegedly in suicide) in confrontations with Indonesian police. There were no trial for the so-called "terrorists," no lawyers, no legal verdict. Not even courtesy protest from rights groups. They were rendered guilty by police reports that had come to shape public opinion. One wonders, whatever happened to the legal presumption "innocence until proven guilty"?

It would have been fair, definitely more credible, had those today clamoring for the abolition of death penalty voiced similar protests over the death sentence of the Bali trio and the killings of Jemaah Islamiyah suspects. Representatives of churches and other Christian organizations can rightly argue of the cruelty of capital punishment and the impotency of state authority that compelled citizens into violence. But didn't offenders in the Poso and Bali cases claim to have acted in the name of God and their religion? Thus if any, responsibility and reformation should begin from the religious quarters.

setiap kali aku melewatkan musim panas di jepang, kudapati perhatian penduduknya terpusat pada stadium baseball koshien di dekat kobe. pertandingan2 puncak dr turnamen baseball musim panas setiap tahun digelar di sana. it's a national tradition.

selama ini, sebagai pendatang yg menjadikan jepang sbg point of transit (persinggahan antara sekolah dan research field), sulit kupahami daya tarik turnamen baseball tingkat sma ini. setiap hari, tak kurang dr 10 pertandingan baseball ditayangkan di tv -- baik yg domestik (nippon professional baseball), maupun yg diimpor dr america (yg meng-cover pemain2 jepang di klub2 major league baseball). tapi ketika beradu waktu tayang dng turnamen koshien, anehnya, ratings pertandingan2 profesional selalu kalah jauh.

sejak kemarin aku mengerti kenapa. final turnamen di koshien tahun ini seharusnya berakhir di hari minggu kemarin. tetapi sesudah lewat 6 inning extra (dr 9 yg normal), hasilnya pertandingan antara tim sma waseda dan tomakomai masih seri 1 sama. oleh sebab itu game di-suspended utk dilanjutkan besoknya, yaitu senin kemarin. pertandingan seri begini baru yg ke 2 kali terjadi dlm 88 thn sejarah turnamen.


pada jam yg sama dng final di koshien kemarin, ada tayangan pertandingan boston red sox dan new york yankees di tv. krn nobuto lebih senang menonton turnamen, kami ganti saluran setiap pergantian inning. pertandingan red sox & yankees pun berlangsung seru sampai extra inning.

as the game progressed though, aku jadi keasyikan menonton pertandingan di koshien. ada yg sangat appealing dlm permainan anak2 sma ini. entah apa -- sulit ditunjuk dng jari, tapi bisa dirasakan. mungkin ini yg disebut sbg "bermain dengan segenap hati" (to play their heart out). tekad dan totalitas ada di wajah mereka, pd sinar matanya, pd bahasa tubuhnya.

pertandingan kemarin disiarkan oleh banyak saluran televisi. tim waseda dan tomakomai bertarung lagi sesudah 15-inning yg berakhir seri sehari sebelumnya.

sepanjang turnamen menuju ke tahap final, penonton jepang mulai kenal dan jatuh hati pada pitcher tim waseda, yuki saito, yg tidak tampan sekali, tapi imut2 dan punya kharisma. dalam waktu singkat, saito menjadi buah bibir kaum perempuan -- dr gadis kecil sampai oma2.

memang ada yg unik dr saito. tdk seperti pemain baseball lain yg keliatan dekil dan terbakar matahari, saito selalu bersih, bahkan immaculate. dia disebut "pangeran sapu tangan" krn selalu membawa sapu tangan utk melap keringat, bahkan saat sdg pitching. aku sempat bengong melihat pemain baseball punya sapu tangan. "kenapa dia tdk melap keringat dengan lengan bajunya spt pemain yg lain?," tanyaku heran. "pasti dia dr keluarga elit," jawab nobuto sambil tertawa. aku pun tertawa -- muncul bayangan ibu saito yg melarang anaknya meludah atau melap keringat dng baju. waseda memang salah satu sekolah elit swasta khusus cowok.

kemenangan saito dan tim waseda kemarin membuatnya jadi instant celebrity. gadis2 remaja menulis di blog mereka, bermimpi menjadi sapu tangan saito. koran2 dan berita tv pagi ini "penuh" dengan cerita ttg saito. ternyata betul sapu tangannya adl pemberian ibunya. di buku karangannya sewaktu sd, saito pernah menulis bhw cita2nya adl kelak bisa bermain di major league di amerika. oh, how innocent!

ada sesuatu yg membuat pertandingan spt ini lebih menarik dr yg profesional. layaknya acara tv american idol yg sll bisa mengalahkan ratings acara2 penghibur profesional. there's something sweet about orang2 biasa yg sdg dlm proses mengubah mimpi menjadi kenyataan, atau pd persimpangan antara "nobody" dan "somebody." turnamen koshien telah melahirkan bintang2 baseball spt pemain favoritku, ichiro suzuki (rightfielder di seattle mariners), yg pd thn 2001 bergabung dng major league di amerika dan menjadi "rookie of the year" sekaligus MVP. pemuda2 tanggung kemarin pun tau -- koshien adl persimpangan mereka, a showcase for their talents, a "do or die" moment, utk terus bermain baseball atau ke bangku kuliah, utk menjadi bintang atau orang biasa.

tidak heran setiap pertandingan berakhir dengan air mata. yg kalah, so pasti -- tdk cuma pemain, tapi juga rombongan pendukung yg terdiri dr teman2, guru2, para orang tua, para alumni, bahkan masyarakat dr kota asalnya. kemarin, cowok2 sma 17-an tahun menangis spt anak kecil, di lapangan maupun di antara penonton. ada yg salah dengan pandangan umum bhw orang jepang termasuk emotionally reserved. yg kulihat kemarin justru kejujuran emosi, yg membuat anak2 tsb terasa lebih tulus.

ternyata tdk cuma yg kalah yg menangis. sepanjang pertandingan saito pandai sekali menguasai emosi. wajahnya tenang dan datar. sesekali terlihat dia menarik napas dalam2 utk meredakan ketegangan, menjinakan adrenalin yg pasti meliar. tetapi begitu timnya menang dan dia diserbu di tengah lapangan oleh teman2nya, saito tdk bisa lagi membendung emosinya. dia lebih dr terisak -- air matanya tak berhenti, juga sedu-sedannya.

sekilas tak bisa dibedakan mana yg menang, mana yg kalah. keduanya berurai air mata. membuatku berpikir betapa sederhananya manifestasi emosi manusia. tetapi begitu kompleks nuansanya, sehingga tangisan pun punya bermacam sebab dan makna.

in any case, koshien berhasil membuatku jadi penggemar turnamen musim panas. lebih dr itu, koshien membuatku rindu pada masa sma...