Wednesday, Aug 20, 2008
The cast of characters in the Diallo trial -- from Rudy's NYPD to the Rev. Al Sharpton -- is priceless, so why does TV drag in Bernhard Goetz?
Feb 9, 2000 | You don't see all that many African immigrants on television. There isn't much of a market for them in sitcoms, newsrooms or weather reports, of course, though in police and medical dramas you might find one now and then. (It's hard for the actors to get the accent right.) Most of the time, African immigrants are pretty much invisible.
If you live in New York, however, you see them everywhere. They're driving your taxi, delivering your groceries, wiping your baby's cute little bottom. From the bodegas to the street vendors, African immigrants are the suppliers for our various needs. They are the latest wave in that immigrant tide most of our ancestors rode in on.
Amadou Diallo has been on television a lot lately, thanks in large part to Court TV, which is presenting the trial of the policemen who killed him. It has been a year since he was shot to death in the Bronx by members of the NYPD's Street Crimes Unit, invariably referred to in the press as the "elite" Street Crimes Unit. The unit's motto was "We Own the Night" (and in Diallo's case they might have added: "You Pay for It").
Such braggadocio may have contributed to Diallo's killing last February, though the four officers on trial -- Kenneth Bass, Sean Carroll, Richard Murphy and Edward McMellon -- now maintain that they did everything by the book. The four veteran officers -- all out of uniform -- were on the lookout for a serial rapist when they confronted Diallo in the doorway of his apartment building. Did they identify themselves? Did he hear them? Was pulling out his wallet (which one of the cops mistook for a gun) the best way to respond?
Apparently not, since the officers reacted by firing 41 rounds at him. Diallo was struck by 19 bullets -- 16 of those shots passed through him and three were removed by the medical examiner. In the year that followed there were a number of protests in front of police headquarters in Manhattan, all spearheaded by that man for all seasons, the Rev. Al Sharpton.
The protests were successful by media standards (arrested guests included the actress Susan Sarandon and former New York Mayor David Dinkins) -- perhaps too much so. In response to a request for a change-of-venue by the officers' defense team (all four were charged with second-degree murder), the trial was moved to the state's predominantly white capital, Albany.
Sharpton and company had a field day with this decision, comparing it to the move of the Rodney King trial to Simi Valley, Calif., (and we all remember how that verdict went over). But before the whole world could cry "Fix!", a state supreme court justice, Joseph C. Teresi, allowed Court TV access to the proceedings, deflating Sharpton's accusations that the African-American (and African immigrant) community was being cut out of the action. This move also cut Sharpton's planned protests in Albany off at the pass. Now all anyone interested in attending the trial needed was a television set -- and maybe a few cups of coffee.
For if C-Span is democracy in action (the U.S. Congress seems to function in something slower than real time), Court TV is the legal system -- live! The wheels of justice turn slowly and there is no fast-forward. The folks at Court TV seem to have the same philosophy of the officers on trial: Shoot first and ask questions later.
Compared to O.J., which went on forever, the People vs. Bass is flying by, with Teresi sustaining and overruling objections right and left, and generally keeping the proceedings on a short leash. (Call him anti-Ito.) He does not seem to be playing favorites and the justice he has administered so far is definitely of the double-edged variety. After ruling Monday that an "ear witness," Ida Vincent, could not testify that she heard someone plotting what sounded like a coverup right after the shooting, Teresi reversed himself after defense attorneys "opened the door" by asking about other specifics. ("Defense Team Blunders," the Daily News shrieked afterwards.)
Reportage in general has focused on the pause three witnesses reported in the fusillade. Defense attorneys preferred the word "break" (a semantic distinction that is lost on me) but the real question is that of length. While Vincent agreed with other ear witnesses that it was several seconds (long enough, presumably, to see if Diallo had a gun or was even moving), the pause -- sorry, break -- Vincent illustrated by rapping out the shots on the witness stand was less than one full second. More time might have indicated that the officers meant to finish the immigrant off.
Call it the pause that represses.
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