Moussaoui's last laugh



Any day it should begin to dawn on al-Qaida conspirator Zacarias Moussaoui that the jury of American men and women who spared his life did him no great favor.
Moussaoui had better have enjoyed his last day of grandstanding at his trial -- taunting the families of his victims, exalting Osama bin Laden -- because it's the last time he'll get to taunt anyone. It is possible that except for meetings with his lawyers, Moussaoui will never again have a conversation with another living soul.
He is headed for the Administrative Maximum United States Penitentiary, or Admax, in Florence, Colo., the federal government's most secure prison. Prison experts refer to it as the "Alcatraz of the Rockies." Many prisoners, their lawyers and human rights activists call it "The Tombs."
A notable exception
For some, Moussaoui deserved nothing short of the death penalty. We have not been shy about advocating the death penalty for vicious killers and mass murderers, but we have no quarrel with the jury that spared Moussaoui's miserable life.
It deprived him and those who share his politics the mantle of martyrdom. While he pleaded guilty to having connections to al-Qaida, his role in the Sept. 11 attacks is questionable. The rest of the world is already perplexed by the United States' status as the only Western democracy that routinely executes people; executing Moussaoui based on the evidence presented against him would have diminished the United States in the eyes of much of the world.
U.S. District Judge Leonie Brinkema overcame enormous obstacles in giving Moussaoui a fair hearing. The jury had the painful task of listening to the families of victims of the 9/11 attacks and witnessing Moussaoui's contemptible behavior toward those witnesses. And yet the jurors showed they could consider Moussaoui's bizarre behavior and evidence of his mental instability in arriving at a recommendation that his life be spared.
It is an example of government by the people that befits a nation that holds itself out as an example of what a democracy can and should be.
Moussaoui is 37 years-old, about at the midpoint of his life.
Looking ahead
Those who regret that Moussaoui cheated the hangman and has decades of living ahead of him should consider what that life will be like.
Moussaoui will spend his life in a soundproof concrete cell about 7 feet by 11 feet -- roughly the size of two king-size beds. Concrete platforms topped with mattresses function as beds. Each cell also contains a concrete stool, shower and toilet.
He will have no contact with other prisoners. While some Admax prisoners get visits and limited phone calls, there is no guarantee that Moussaoui will be among them.
One hour a day the prisoners are allowed outside. All they can see is sky and concrete walls. The nearby mountains are out of sight.
Bernard Kleinman, a New York lawyer who represents another Admax prisoner, said: "Anybody who thinks the death penalty was more punishment than this doesn't know what it's like to live completely alone for the rest of your life ... [it] is about the worst you could do to him."
Before dismissing Kleinman as a bleeding heart defense lawyer, test yourself. Walk into a typical bathroom in an older home, or stand in a typical office cubicle, and then imagine that space as a concrete cell, with one tiny window showing nothing but other concrete walls. And imagine spending every day for the rest of your life -- alone -- in that cell.
There are worse things than death. Moussaoui acted as if he got the last laugh when he left the courtroom last Thursday. What he didn't realize was that he'll never have anything to laugh about again -- or anyone to laugh with.