By Dr Mark F. Montebello

From Monday, April 29, till Tuesday, May 14, for more than two weeks, I gave my service of assisting at the criminal court the accused Aimen El Baden during his trial by jury, accused of having, in 1997, murdered and robbed Alfie Rizzo. I did this in an official capacity, on the invitation of the accused himself, and with the formal permission of his family in Tripoli (Libya), of the prison authorities, and of the court.

Humanitarian service

My part, obviously, was not to give legal aid. This was done by the defending lawyer, in this case Dr Joseph Mifsud, who led the defense with great professionality and tact.

My duty was to stand by the accused both morally and humanely at a moment of enormous tension. It was also to keep his family in Libya informed about the personal state of their relative during the trial.

This service is just one aspect of the work my colleagues and I do in the sphere of criminal justice throughout the year. The work we do brings us in close contact with every kind of people: offenders of justice, victims of crime, prison wardens, journalists, servants of justice (police, lawyers, magistrates and judges, civil servants at the courts or at other government departments), and the like.

Not an approval

This particular service, that is assisting the accused during trial, has its difficulties since it identifies one with the accused and, more specifically, with the crime he is accused with. Some people even will think that one actually approves of his crime.

Others go one step further. They think that, since one is assisting the accused, one has no sympathy with, or mercy for, the victim the accused may have. The victim's family, for instance, may be among people who have this impression.

The truth is that none of this true. The fact that we assist the accused during his most tough moment in no way means that we approve of what he may have done, and neither does it mean that we do not sympathise with the victim he may have, or even with the victim's family.

The dignity of the human person

Properly speaking, when assisting an offender of justice at any stage of his case — from the first day of his arrest to the last day of his sentence — and even, I have to add, after serving his sentence, little do we concentrate on the nature of the crime of which he may be accused of or for which he was sentenced to goal.

For us it is enough to recognise that he is a person. This does not mean that we ignore everything else. It means that, as a person — whether arrested, sentenced or with a bad criminal record — we give him the respect proper to every human person.

Whether a man or woman is on remand or sentenced and kept in goal., whether during a trial by jury, and whether he or she has left the prisons, we give every person — whoever he or she may be, whatever he or she may have done, and irrespective whether he or she deserves it or not — all the honour and respect proper to every person's human dignity.

"I was in prison ..."

Not everybody understands such things. And I admit that it is not easy to understand. My colleagues and I understand it not so much because we are brighter, more humane or outright saints, but because we were given the grace to understand it. I do not have another way of explaining our understanding.

And once we understand it, we are ready to defend the human dignity of every person who has been arrested or sentenced. And we defend it against whoever — be it in thought, with words or in deeds — does or seeks to do anything that may show the slightest disrespect to it.

In court with the accused , even on behalf of my colleagues, I continue to accomplish the mission of doing to "the least of these brothers of mine" what Jesus assured me of doing with him. For Jesus himself said that "in so far as you did this to one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did it to me ... for I was in prison and you came to see me".

My friend too

During the trial, my heart went out for the victim and his family. Truly. I personally knew Alfie Rizzo, the victim, and can even say that he was a friend of mine. His parting, in so hideous and tragic circumstances, has given me so much sorrow. His departure was unjust and cruel.

Assisting the young man who eventually was unanimously found to be guilty of his murder, then, had particular significance. To stand tight with the one who took the life of a friend of mine was a most powerful test of what I believe in.

Aimen knew this, because I told him so many times. And I sought to tell him also that Alfie, even though he may have had his defects (as we all have, after all), was a good man.

My friendship with Alfie, however, u my deep sorrow for the way he life was taken, in no way move me from my determination to assist, morally and humanely, the one who was found guilt of murdering him. The mandate of my mission has not weakened with the knowledge of the brutality of his murder, but grew stronger. The greater human misery is, the greater mercy has to be.

Only forgiveness gives peace

I assisted Aimen because I believe that every person, irrespective of whatever he may have done, should be respected as such, especially in such a delicate moment in his life. This is not a lack of respect to Alfie's memory. On the contrary. It is a recognition of his goodness and of the good that he always felt he should do to others.

Doing so, neither did I slight his family. During these two weeks I could feel, maybe more than anyone else, the great suffering that the tragedy of their loved one brought upon them.

Maybe some of them may think that now that, after so many years, the trial is over and the sentence given, they may finally find some peace of mind, and be at ease. I do respect this sentiment of theirs. But I think it is false. I am convinced that their peace of mind may be found only when they forgive Aimen truly from their heart.

An honour not a disgrace

This is not easy. It can be done only by the grace of God. Their bitterness is quite natural and expected, but it is like a corrosive acid on the soul. Bitterness and the lack of forgiveness do not bring neither peace nor ease.

I saw a bit of this bitterness of theirs at the end of the trial last Tuesday, when some grief-stricken relative of Rizzo addressed me with words of scorn, and even tried to assail me. I do not count this against that person. However, this showed me that, in court with the accused, I was accused with him; and with the guilty, I too was considered guilty.

This really gives me so much honour.

19.05.02