Hunger for Habeus Corpus ~ Margaret Roberts

Hunger for Habeus Corpus – Thursday, June 16, 2011

I am hungry. I feel closer to Shane and Josh in their cell as I accompany them this day in hunger strike. I am hungry for justice, for their freedom.

I walk through the courthouse which I work at each day as an interpreter, and I see it through the eyes of Shane and Josh, and through my dear friend Sarah’s eyes. Each day I am reminded of the personal pain of loved ones and defendants facing criminal procedings, denied the freedom to walk out onto the street and on with their lives, painfully separated from their families. Guilty or innocent, either way there is pain. I am reminded of the importance of doing this work right, seeing the humanity of those whose lives I touch, knowing their rights and remaining always vigilant not to let them fall through the cracks in this frightening, powerful system.

These past two years, I have watched the bizarre mockery of a prosecution against Shane Bauer and Josh Fattal. They are in custody for political reasons, not because they have committed any crime, and not even as prisoners of conscience chosing to lead a movement against Iran – which they NEVER have had an interest or a hand in. They are being forced into that antagonist’s role because it is politically convenient for Iran’s powerful to use them in this way. It is a disgrace to the legal professions, to the idea of justice.

Should we choose to set aside our own humanity in order to show up for work each day? I have experienced the pains of injustice one witnesses from within the beast that is government and law. The ongoing captivity of Josh Fattal and Shane Bauer is a grave injustice. There are several people in a position to set it right, and each of those men shows up each day and decides NOT to: not to come to agreement with his colleagues and his conscience about the right course of action. I urge all who hold such power, to act from the core of your own humanity as a daily practice, and see the change that brings about. It is another, quieter, beautiful form of revolution that can be part of any revolution you already may embrace. Start today. Start with those you feel least tender toward, most suspicious of, those it is easiest to judge and stereotype and villify. Scrutinize your choices and actions toward them. Choose to free the innocent whose lives are in your hands. Let your power rest gently upon your, upon all people’s, humanity, not crush it.

We will strike until the simple humanity of hunger penetrates the lifelessness of beaurocracy and politics and brothers’ quarrels over the philosophy of governance. We will see these innocent men set free, we will see their humanity recognized. None of what we do means anything without that.