“Nidal Hasan has not got away with what he did, not yet. And no one is ever likely to mistake him for an honorable man. Or pity his fate. Now that fate is up to an American court-martial. May it uphold the law and honor of the United States of America-and may the justice it hands down be colored by neither vengeance nor naivete, but befit that honorable court. And an honorable people.”
-Arkansas Democrat-Gazette August 8, 2013 THERE were no celebrations. There were no marches. There were no mobs of people taking to the streets singing and dancing and burning things they did not own. A man in this country, an American, has been sent to Death Row. In this country, that is not cause for merrymaking. Or shouldn’t be.
Though he never denied what he’d done, Nidal Hasan was given a fair trial. Patiently, painstakingly fair. It’s the American Way, a way he betrayed. He was prudent enough to choose an honorable nation to betray-one that even in its grief and anger holds fast to the rule of law.
Can you imagine Nidal Hasan’s getting any trial so fair in one of the countries dominated by the jihadists to which he now has pledged his allegiance? How would he have fared in one of those regimes headed by the latest crazed mullah? To ask the question is to answer it.
Even now, this murderer will be imprisoned for many years as his case winds its way through the lawfully required appeal after appeal. And in the end, the president of the United States and commander-in-chief of its armed forces will have to sign off on an execution-if and when it takes place.
Yes, there were tears and hugs outside the courtroom after the sentence was read, but those were certainly not celebrations. At this hour, those the defendant hurt beyond words or compensation were naturally drawn together in shared loss, sorrow, and determination. As they will be drawn together for the rest of their lives. For theirs is a determination to see justice done. Not just for their sake but for that of the United States of America.
The man looks scared in the prison photo that’s appeared in all the papers. There’s a worried look on his face-eyes wide, eyebrows low, a wrinkle in his forehead. As if he were beginning to understand the depth of his depravity, the awfulness of his crime, and the punishment he now faces down the long, long road ahead. The world has seen that look before. On the face of Saddam Hussein when he was dragged out of that spider hole in 2003. And on so many other hate-distorted faces.
We all have fallen short, and we all surely know what it’s like to be afraid of the reckoning. Maybe it’s just our imagination, but perhaps Nidal Hasan is beginning to understand what he’s done, God have mercy on his soul.
Justice is being done in the case of Nidal Hasan, who should not be called Major Hasan any longer. Sentenced to death, he was also thrown out of the service for good measure. He has been treated fairly-absolutely, precisely, lawfully fairly. Or should be in a matter of years.
The best argument for not giving him the death penalty was to let him suffer the rest of his days rather than shorten his life. He claims to think of death as martyrdom, so letting him grow old behind bars while the world forgot him struck some as a fitting punishment.
But even those opposed to the death penalty must have a hard time making such an argument when it comes to this killer. For how even begin to describe him?
A murderer and betrayer. Shoots up a waiting room full of people on their way to war. Kills 13 and wounds more than 30. The death penalty was made for his kind of crime.
BUT THERE are no celebrations. Not in this country. How celebrate the death of any man, we who are mortal? So today let us mourn, yet again, for those who were killed and wounded defending this nation. For they did die in combat, not in some “workplace incident,” whatever the administration’s euphemism of the day for such a death may be.
The victims of Nidal Hasan were defending this nation even as they sat filling out paperwork or stood waiting in line. They died because they were on a U.S. military base doing their sworn duty. Many of them died because they had put on the uniform of their country that morning. They died because an Army psychiatrist chose-in his own disgraceful words-to switch sides.
The moral of the story: There may be no end to the struggle for justice. But there is an arc to history, and let us believe it bends toward justice.
Now let us praise the jury in this court-martial, and the judge who kept the trial from becoming a show trial. If there has been any winner in this matter, it is the American justice system, and those who took an honorable part in it.
Meanwhile, there is still a war on. The country has much to do, and little time to pause-and no time at all to celebrate the death of any man. Let’s roll.
Editorial, Pages 80 on 09/01/2013