By Kelly O'Connell ——Bio and Archives--July 16, 2013
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A neighbor of George Zimmerman, who had perhaps the best view of the struggle between the neighborhood watch volunteer and Trayvon Martin, testified at Zimmerman's murder trial Friday that it appeared the teen was striking Zimmerman while straddling him.So while Zimmerman was found Not Guilty of murder, did justice prevail? We will probably never find out what happened the night Trayvon died. But we can at least insist that, while Zimmerman might be guilty of a crime--until this is proved Beyond a Reasonable Doubt, he must remain free--despite whatever the media, political class and elites demand.
Greenleaf traces this presumption (of innocence) to Deuteronomy, and shows it was substantially embodied in the laws of Sparta and Athens... there can be no question that the Roman law was pervaded with the results of this maxim of criminal administration, as the following extracts show: 'Let all accusers understand that they are not to prefer charges unless they can be proven by proper witnesses or by conclusive documents, or by circumstantial evidence which amounts to indubitable proof and is clearer than day.' 'The noble Trajan wrote to Julius Frontonus that no man should be condemned on a criminal charge in his absence, because it was better to let the crime of a guilty person go unpunished than to condemn the innocent.' Says Roman law: 'In all case of doubt the most merciful construction of facts should be preferred.' 'In criminal cases the milder construction shall always be preserved.' 'In cases of doubt it is no less just than it is safe to adopt the milder construction.' Ammianus Marcellinus relates an anecdote of the Emperor Julian which illustrates the enforcement of this principle in the Roman law. Numerius, the governor of Narbonensis, was on trial before the emperor, and, contrary to the usage in criminal cases, the trial was public. Numerius contented himself with denying his guilt, and there was not sufficient proof against him. His adversary, Delphidius, 'a passionate man,' seeing that the failure of the accusation was inevitable, could not restrain himself, and exclaimed, 'Oh, illustrious Caesar! if it is sufficient to deny, what hereafter will become of the guilty?' to which Julian replied, 'If it suffices to accuse, what will become of the innocent?' The rule thus found in the Roman law was, along with many other fundamental and human maxims of that system, preserved for mankind by the canon law. Fortescue says: 'Who, then, in England, can be put to death unjustly for any crime? since he is allowed so many pleas and privileges in favor of life. None but his neighbors, men of honest and good repute, against whom he can have no probable cause of exception, can find the person accused guilty. Indeed, one would much rather that twenty guilty persons should escape punishment of death than that one innocent person should be condemned and suffer capitally.' Lord Hale (1678) says: 'In some cases presumptive evidence goes far to prove a person guilty, though there be no express proof of the fact to be committed by him; but then it must be very warily pressed, for it is better five guilty persons should escape unpunished than one innocent person should die.' He further observes: 'And thus the reasons stand on both sides; and, though these seem to be stronger than the former, yet in a case of this moment it is safest to hold that in practice, which hath least doubt and danger,--'Quod dubitas, ne feceris." Blackstone (1753-1765) maintains that 'the law holds that it is better that ten guilty persons escape than that one innocent suffer.'
In order to make sense of our law, we have to dig deep into its past. In the criminal trial of past centuries, there was more at stake than the fate of the accused. The fate of those who sat in judgment was at stake at well. In part this was because jurors had to fear vengeance on the part of the relatives of the convicted man. But it was also for religious reasons. Convicting an innocent defendant was regarded, in the older Christian tradition, as a potential mortal sin. The reasonable doubt rule developed in response to this disquieting possibility. It was originally a theological doctrine, intended to reassure jurors that they could convict the defendant without risking their own salvation. According to medieval doctrine, judging was a spiritually dangerous business. Any sinful misstep committed by a judge in the course of judging "built him a mansion in Hell." This was especially true any time a judge imposed "blood punishments"--that is, execution and mutilation, the standard criminal punishments of pre-19th century law. To be a judge in a capital case was to participate in a killing, and that meant judging was full of spiritual peril. The story of the "reasonable doubt" rule, which now seems so mysterious to us, is simply an English chapter in this long religious history. Common law jurors were Christians, and they were Christians who engaged in acts of judgment. This meant that to be a juror was potentially to "to pawn [your] Soul," as the most famous pamphlet of the revolutionary era declared. Or as another pamphlet put it, "the Juryman who finds any other person guilty, is liable to the Vengeance of God upon his Family and Trade, Body and Soul, in this world and that to come."
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Kelly O’Connell is an author and attorney. He was born on the West Coast, raised in Las Vegas, and matriculated from the University of Oregon. After laboring for the Reformed Church in Galway, Ireland, he returned to America and attended law school in Virginia, where he earned a JD and a Master’s degree in Government. He spent a stint working as a researcher and writer of academic articles at a Miami law school, focusing on ancient law and society. He has also been employed as a university Speech & Debate professor. He then returned West and worked as an assistant district attorney. Kelly is now is a private practitioner with a small law practice in New Mexico.