Be We Free? by Andrew Paul Cannon - HTML preview

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Human Desire for Freedom:

Dost State Liberate or Bind?

“All these aforesaid customs and liberties which we have granted to be held in our realm in so far as pertains to us are to be observed by all of  our realm, both clergy and laity, in so far as pertains to them in respect  to their own men.”iv

-Magna Carta

 

Liberty from is slavery to. The slave struggles, and becomes a slave again. The law of a state binds all those within the state to its code and liberates them from all other codes. Then, there is a revolution and men are liberated from the law of the state only to subject themselves under another law, which will bring about another revolution.

The panel discussion was over and Zack left quickly.

He made his way home, grabbed a beer and turned on his television. Was freedom truly only a desire that people sought after and never obtained? Was Lady Liberty the false prophet of the American way? Surely not. There must be liberty! The more liberty was afforded, the greater the power struggle. The greater the power struggle, the more the assertion of that power.

There was a knock on Zack’s door. He put his beer on the table next to him and got up. “Who is it?” he asked before unlocking the dead-bolt.

“Glen Bluff P.D.” came a voice.

Zack opened the door, “What can I do for you officers?”

“Senator Gary Hardin was murdered shortly after the panel that you two sat on. We are interviewing everyone who sat on the panel and looking at everyone who was there. Do you have a few minutes?”

Zack was one of those who yearned for freedom and even this could be seen as an imposition. The state had the right to question him? Zack was innocent, he had not murdered the senator, but these men seemed to assume that because they represented the law that they could just ask him questions. “Do you have a warrant?” Zack asked.

“No,” one of the officers admitted, “we would just like to eliminate you as a suspect if you weren’t responsible.”

Zack figured that in this type of situation, officers usually listened for anything suspicious and tried to find contradictions in any story simply so they could have suspects. At the same time, he knew that certain freedoms were afforded by the same law to which these two patriots adhered. The fifth amendment gave him the freedom to remain silent as to not incriminate himself, and the fourth gave him the freedom to demand a warrant, knowing that one would not be obtained without the proper probable cause for the issuance of that warrant.v “I am sorry officers,” Zack closed the door and continued watching television.

He did not know the senator, but he was curious. Zack picked up the remote and flipped to a local news channel to see if it was being covered. It was not. Perhaps it was too early in the investigation. The senator was the one who first hinted at the idea that freedom in this life might be impossible.

Perhaps death, then, was the final great liberator of humankind.

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The police officer turned to his partner once there were in their patrol vehicle, “I wish that there weren’t so many regulations. That guy might be the one who did it!”

His partner laughed, “You’re just saying that ‘cause he was rude. These regulations are safeguards. They keep us accountable and above reproach as officers.”

“They are binding is what they are!” the officer admitted as they drove to the station. “It’s like we must become prisoners in order to catch criminals. And I don’t like that guy…”

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The next day, Zack woke, dressed and put on his coat before leaving. He had a meeting at the Human Dignity and Liberty Society office. They were counting donations received the night before and planning on how those funds were to be appropriated in Washington.

When he arrived, he noticed a black SWAT van parked outside and he saw his fellow volunteers inside being searched and some of them cuffed. One of the officers who stood outside noticed Zack and pointed, “There he is!” As two more officers came from behind the van in full sprint, yelling, “You, stop!” Zack’s first instinct was to flee, and that is what he did.

He blazed through the small crowd of people watching, around the corner of a building and into an alleyway, where he hid behind a trashcan. He did not know if the two officers had seen him turn into the alleyway or not. After a few moments, he peeked out from behind the trashcan and saw the officers standing at the entrance of the alleyway. One faced him and the other faced the street. He knew for sure that the officer facing him saw him.

There was no escape. Zack stood up and held his hands in the air. One of the officers approached him, slapped the braces on him and led him to one of the squad cars, “You shouldn’t have run, son.”

All the way to the station, Zack wondered if the officers had traced the senator’s murder to the society. Surely the group who was responsible for many of the freedoms people in this great country had would not have committed such an egregious act. Zack sat quietly in the vehicle. What had he gotten himself into? Why did he have to try and run?

Zack was led through the front door and into an interrogation room, , and questioned. The lady interrogator was not the one who arrested him. She claimed that there was enough evidence for the court to charge Zack and win against him in trial. “Things would go much more smoothly with your confession,” she added. It sounded like you’d expect if someone was trying to get a simple confession.

Zack remained silent. He knew all too well that anything he said could, and would be used against him in a court of law. Furthermore, he reminded himself of the right he had as an American citizen not to incriminate himself. He was innocent. If evidence had been gained, it should exonerate him.

The interrogator continued, “We have your gun, Mr. Bellicosus. It was used to murder Senator Hardin.”

Zack did own a gun, but it was unlikely that anyone had found it in order to use it in a murder. He had broken no law. Zack looked around the room.

“What are you looking at?” inquired the interrogator.

Zack chose to reply this time, “I am just taking a moment to notice that I do not have an attorney present. I will cooperate fully, but I am going to need some legal counsel.

The state provides that, correct?”

The interrogator looked slightly disappointed, “Yes.” She turned and walked out of the interrogation room.

Zack reached across the table and took the confession paper and the pen provided. It was difficult to write with his cuffs on, but he wrote out the only confession he would give:

“What is pursuit of justice, but the attempt of one to hold another in subjugation? When one appears to cross another’s line, he is bound and tossed into the fire where the wolves devour him even before his trial. The innocent lamb is always slaughtered for the sin of the wolf.”

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Three officers remained at Zack’s apartment, searching for further evidence of his implication in the Senator’s murder. They discovered that Zack was a self-taught student of the law. On his wall hung a framed copy of both the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution.

One of the officers opened Zack’s computer and looked through his emails. Zack was quite the public speaker on the importance of human freedom, and he certainly had a following. The officer opened the desk drawer.

“Hey guys, check it out.” He picked up a picture and showed it to the other officers before placing it in an evidence bag. It was a picture of the senator, and on the back of the photograph was the date of the HDLS conference. They knew it was only circumstantial, but perhaps it was enough to make Zack confess, at least as a conspirator.

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Zack’s state-provided attorney walked in and counseled Zack privately before the interrogator entered the room. “Wait for my okay before you answer any questions,” he emphasized, “you don’t need to say anything to incriminate yourself. When this is over, I will get the full story from you.”

When the interrogator walked in, she calmly placed both Zack’s handgun and the picture of the senator found in his apartment on the table in front of him; and sat silently for a few minutes. Zack recognized the firearm, but did not react.

The attorney spoke up, “Why don’t you tell us what you are thinking.”

She raised her voice, only slightly, “I think there was a conspiracy to kill the senator, and I think Mr. Bellicosus was the trigger-man.”

“Well, Zack,” the attorney repeated, “did you shoot Senator Hardin?”

Zack immediately answered, “No.”

The interrogator raised her voice once again, “Then why did we find your gun at the scene? Why did we matched the slug that killed Mr. Hardin to that gun? And why did we find a picture of him in your desk at your apartment?”

Zack looked at his attorney who was shaking his head, then back at the interrogator in silence. She pinched her lips. “Tell me everything you did the day of the conference, Mr. Bellicosus.”

After his attorney’s okay, Zack began:

“I woke up, had breakfast and got ready. The conference was an all day event that culminated in the panel discussion on human liberty. It was a fundraiser to aid HDLS lobbies in Washington. Anyway, I was there all day helping with anything I could. Because of the public atmosphere and my role in the conference, I left my handgun at home; locked away and unloaded. It was not until right before the panel that I met Mr. Hardin and I went home right after.”

“And was your gun still locked away when you got home?” the interrogator continued.

Zack laughed, “I guess not,” He pointed at the gun that still sat on the table, “but I was unaware that it had gone missing.”

The door opened and a nicely dressed man motioned toward the interrogator. “I will be right back,” she said before leaving the room.”

Zack’s attorney warned him not to say anything because the room was likely being monitored.

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“Can I help you, Detective Casey?”

The nicely dressed man quickly answered, “I am not sure Zack is our gunman. The gun only had Zack’s prints on it, but the casings we found were print-free. Our trigger-man was smart enough not to leave any prints.”

The interrogator scrunched her forehead and pointed violently toward the interrogation room, “So, you think this might be a frame job?”

“Yes, Miss Daniels. I do.” The detective handed her the report and walked away.

Daniels motioned for another police officer to come and opened the door to the interrogation room, “Book him for police evasion so we can look into some new evidence.”

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Zack called out from the judge’s seat, “Detective Casey, will you please join us?”

The detective stood up, and took his partner’s sidearm, “I am really sorry about this Melissa.” She was speechless as Casey joined the intruders.

“Detective, can I tell you what really irks me about this nation?” Zack asked. After Casey nodded, he continued, “Freedom seems to be a guise by which it controls its people, while everyday signing new, more restrictive laws. On what foundation are governments even instituted? Is it not control?”

A young man, a law student by his looks, raised his hand from the back of the courtroom, “Your wrong!” he blurted.

“Is that right?” Zack stood up and invited the young man to take the stand as a witness.

The young man shook his head and did not move.

Zack smiled, “Let me say this another way, take the stand or my partner back there will bring about your sentence now.”

The courtroom gasped and the young man hesitantly stood. After slowly making his way to the bench, he took the seat.

“I will hear your defense, now,” Zack invited the young man to defend his earlier accusation.

He stuttered, but he made his point:

“Politics here are based mostly on John Locke’s political philosophy. In his Second Treatise of Government, Locke explained that there is a supreme power within the government, but also that the supreme power is subject to the people, who have the power to remove or alter what he calls the legislative.vi The constitution reflects that, giving the power quite literally to the people.”

Zack smiled, “Thank you Mr?” “Aa, Anthony,” the boy answered.

“Mr. Anthony,” Zack motioned to Detective Casey and asked if he would like to address the issue.

Casey walked back and forth in front of the bench as he explained, “You, my friend, are the prime example of what it means to be indoctrinated. This is the great downfall of a public school system that is regulated by the government. Our students are memorizing a predetermined set of facts rather than thinking for themselves. You give the picture of a government that signs laws according to the supremacy of the people and a people who are subjected to laws according to the supremacy of the legislative. People then complain concerning the law and fight to have it changed in their favor and the legislative is to accommodate those changes. This sounds more like a perpetual state of slavery than of liberty. It sounds like a system that constantly and consistently forces opposition between the people and the government, causing each one to continuously fight and escape the oppression of the other. Tell me, Mr. Anthony. Where is the freedom in that?”

The detective’s phone rang. He looked at it and threw it to Zack, “It’s for you. Probably the negotiator.”

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Zack had been in his cell for about six hours, when Detective Casey, the man who was leading the investigation against him, came to speak with him, “You didn’t do it did you?”

Zack did not say a word. For all he knew this was another ploy to glean information that could be used against him.

Casey eased the tension, “That’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I want to apologize. I made some discoveries that would prove your innocence, but I can’t share them. All I need from you is your silence. Keep doing what you are doing. You will have to stand trial, but it won’t last. Everything will work out.”

The detective’s cryptic message didn’t help. In fact, it provided zero information. Zack was still in a cell waiting to once again be interrogated. He wondered how all this would end and refused to go to court to be convicted of something he did not even know about.

He had nothing but time, it seemed. He would not be allowed to leave anytime soon. Zack’s mind drifted again to the thought of freedom. He had fooled himself his entire life. In high school, he remembered fighting for the right to believe what he wanted to believe. He opposed religion, even when his best friends sold out. It cost him those friendships, but Zack kept his freedom. He lived in a household where his mother, though she was married, practiced sexual promiscuity and, in that, achieved freedom for herself. His father was abusive and was ultimately the one who drove Zack to, after escaping his oppression, to fight for the freedom of every individual. It was all a mirage. There was a very real law and there were very real restrictions for every citizen and non- citizen. The state did not enable freedom. What it did was confine people to certain permissions. Zack realized in this moment that liberty, true liberty, could never be found in human authority.

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“Is this the negotiator?” Zack answered the detective’s phone.

“Yes, am I speaking with the one in charge?” the negotiator asked.

Zack snickered, “I don’t know about in charge, but my comrades and I are the ones with the guns.”

“How many of you are there?”

Zack held up the phone and signaled the other intruder as if telling him to collect phones from the people, “You know I won’t give that information, Mr?”

“My name is Jim. What is yours?” the negotiator inquired.

Zack remained quiet.

“If you won’t give me your name, can you tell me how many hostages you have?”

Zack replied, “There are about thirty people in this room, along with three bodies. I must warn you not to breech or more civilians will die. I want you to listen very carefully. I am sending out a hostage with a name on it. From this point forward, I will only speak to this person. If anyone else calls, I will shoot a hostage.”

Zack ended the call and asked for a pen and paper. He wrote one word and handed it to the young man on the stand, “You are innocent. You may leave. Please be sure to hand this to the police.”

Anthony took the small slip and walked out the door.

The police caught him on his way out, took the slip and moved him quickly away from the doors of the courthouse so they could question him. The negotiator unfolded the slip and was surprised to see only one word, “Elliot.”