Editorial: Executions abhorrent and futile

Opinion

In his own twisted and sickening way, Darshan Singh has done a valuable public service. Singapore's chief executioner has pulled back a veil to reveal the true barbarity of hanging, a practice which, he says, leads to the condemned man struggling "like chickens, like fish out of water" if it is not done efficiently. Singh's account meant that Singaporeans have had to confront the brutal reality of the execution of drug-trafficker Nguyen Tuong Van.

It should cause them, and residents of other countries that retain the death penalty, to demand an end to the practice.

Capital punishment is deeply objectionable on many levels other than its cruelty and grotesque nature. Most fundamentally, nobody has the right to take a human life, even in revenge. Most practically, it is ineffectual. The 3500-plus men and women on death row in the United States prove it is no deterrent. As does the case of Nguyen.

The 25-year-old Australian was arrested at Changi Airport in 2002 while flying from Cambodia to Melbourne with 396g of heroin strapped to his back and in his carry-on luggage. Under Singapore law, anyone possessing more than 15g of heroin is presumed to be trafficking and receives a mandatory death sentence.

Nguyen never sought to deny the offence. He told Singapore's High Court that he was lured by a Sydney drug syndicate to act as a "mule" to repay A$25,000 in debts owed by his twin brother. Effectively, he was taking a huge, and foolish, gamble. He was fully aware of, but undeterred by, the penalty if he was apprehended.

There is no question that Nguyen deserves a lengthy prison sentence. Probably, he spared little, if any, thought to the ruinous consequences of his trafficking. He paid no heed to the cost of addiction, both to the individual and to society. Singapore sees the death penalty as a crucial safeguard against such damage being wreaked on its citizens. Thus, it deals with traffickers in a summary manner, and is unrelenting in the face of pleas for clemency.

In reality, however, the penalty is an admission of societal weakness. Singapore is saying it has no faith in the ability of its citizens, or its institutional framework, to cope with illegal drugs. Therefore, in a forlorn attempt to deter drug syndicates, it has chosen to impose a sentence that has no place in a civilised society.

The upshot is Singapore's possession of the world's highest per capita execution rate. A nation of 4 million has witnessed the hanging of about 420 people since 1991. The vast majority of these, of course, were not drug syndicate kingpins but minor players in the trade.

The death penalty is also worthy of odium for a factor that does not apply in Nguyen's case. The increased use of DNA evidence in the United States has exonerated too many condemned prisoners for comfort. It suggests that innocent men and women have been put to death. With the number of executions in the US since the reinstatement of the death penalty in 1976 reaching 1000, there is dwindling support for the practice among Americans, even if a nationwide consensus to abolish it seems a long way off.

Today, as, barring a last-minute act of clemency, Nguyen goes to the gallows, Singaporeans should be having similar qualms. Their chief executioner has revealed the horror of a practice that belongs in only the most benighted societies. For that, and for reasons of sacrilege and ineffectiveness, they should want nothing more to do with it.