By Jonathan S. Tobin
Monday, August 10, 2020
In the two months since the death of George Floyd, the
nation has been beset by often-violent protests and riots. Yet the mainstream
media and Democratic politicians have tended to describe the demonstrations as
“mostly peaceful,” and to rationalize and minimize them. For many on the left,
the real story has not been the violence directed at law-enforcement personnel,
the assaults on federal courthouses and police precincts, the toppling of
statues, or the destruction of private property; it’s been the use of federal
personnel in response.
It is only in that context that we can hope to understand
the sympathy being generated for Colinford Mattis and Urooj Rahman.
Mattis and Rahman are the lawyers who were caught on
camera throwing a Molotov cocktail into an empty, already-vandalized NYPD
patrol car in Brooklyn. After setting the vehicle on fire in full of view of
the cops, they drove away in Mattis’s van and were quickly chased down and
arrested. In their possession, officers found yet another Bud Light bottle
turned into a homemade incendiary device and the makings of more in the back
seat. Prosecutors later said Rahman had offered Molotov cocktails to other
protesters, as well.
There could hardly be any doubt about their guilt. In
addition to the police video of the firebombing itself, a photographer actually
snapped a picture of Rahman, a 31-year-old attorney for Bronx Legal Services,
leaning out of the window of the car holding an unlit Molotov cocktail. And
shortly before the incident, Rahman gave a filmed interview to a journalist in
which she vented her rage at the Floyd killing:
This sh** won’t ever stop unless we
fu**ing take it all down. We’re all in so much pain from how fu**ed up this
country is toward black lives. This has got to stop, and the only way they hear
us is through violence, through the means that they use. “You got to use the
master’s tools.” That’s what my friend always says.
In the background of the interview footage, Mattis, a
32-year-old attorney, can be seen exiting a 7-Eleven carrying two bags that
likely contain the beer bottles that would be used for the car bombing.
As subsequent coverage pointed out, the two are unlikely
criminals. Though they come from impoverished, immigrant backgrounds — Rahman
arrived from Pakistan with her parents at the age of four while Mattis’s mother
was an immigrant from Jamaica — they have both attained substantial educational
and professional success. Mattis earned a scholarship to a private prep school,
attended Princeton University, and then graduated from New York University Law
School before becoming a highly paid attorney at a Manhattan law firm. Rahman
went to one of the most select public high schools in New York before attending
Fordham University for her undergraduate degree and then law school.
As lawyers, both knew what they were doing was against
the law and what the consequences would be. But as the initial
coverage of their case showed, and a highly
sympathetic profile published by New York magazine this week
confirmed, some on the left see the prosecution of the pair in a different
light:
Today, some of Mattis and Rahman’s
friends may concede in private that throwing a Molotov cocktail represents a
lapse in judgment, but none are willing to discuss the degree to which their
friends may have been ethically, professionally, morally, or legally out of
bounds. Instead, they emphasize that violence against government property,
especially in the midst of political upheaval, is not the same as violence
against a person; that the prosecution of their friends for an act of what
amounted to political vandalism is far more extreme than the crime itself; that
it amounts to a criminalization of dissent and reflects a broader right-wing
crusade against people of color and the progressive left — and, as such,
demonstrates precisely the horror of the system they were out in the streets
that night to protest. There is a version of the Rahman and Mattis story in
which they are civil-rights heroes, even martyrs, instead of professionals who
crossed a line.
The claim that federal authorities are seeking to make
examples of the pair is not without justification. Few among the mobs that have
set America’s cities aflame and looted private property since Floyd’s killing
have been held accountable by the law. Local authorities have too often stood
down and let the rioters do as they like, and in those instances where
offenders were arrested, most have not faced serious consequences.
But Rahman and Mattis were caught in the act of
committing a crime that carries the most severe consequences. They face seven
federal charges, including arson, conspiracy, and the commission of a “crime of
violence” employing what the law defines as a “destructive device.” That last
charge means that if they are convicted they will have to automatically serve a
sentence that is three times longer than if they had used a gun: a mandatory
minimum term of 30 years. With the other charges thrown in, each is looking at
the possibility of “non-negotiable” sentences of 45 years to life in prison
(though, as New York points out, they have a reasonable hope that the
charges against them will be either drastically reduced or dismissed if the
Justice Department reverts to Democratic control in January).
The possibility of such draconian sentences is part of
what is generating support for the pair. But, as the New York profile
reveals, the effort to turn them into anti-Trump martyrs is connected to the
broader justifications for the protests. For those who have watched in
frustration as rioters run amok, their comeuppance is satisfying. For those who
share their politics, on the other hand, their serious crimes are a justified
effort to bring attention to the alleged evil done by the police and the
government.
Thus the prosecution of what is, on its face, an
open-and-shut case of domestic terrorism has become like everything else in
this year of pandemics and unrest: a referendum on the legitimacy of the Trump
administration and America’s past. In that way, even privileged lawyers can
earn a pass from the Left for brazen violence that in any other context would
be damned as criminal behavior worthy of significant jail time. The two lawyers
aren’t outliers; they’re living examples of how hatred of Trump has morphed
into a willingness to justify the unjustifiable.
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