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Federal prosecutors in Arizona have struck against a new menace that threatens the safety of the community. They brought charges against Walt Stanton, a divinity student at Claremont School of Theology in California. The crime? Stanton left bottles filled with drinking water in the Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge, an 18,000-acre area that straddles the border with Mexico, smack in the middle of one of the most heavily traveled routes for illegal immigrants from Mexico. Stanton belongs to a group called “No More Deaths,” which works to combat the large number of deaths suffered by those crossing illegally—frequently involving heat prostration and dehydration. Stanton states that he was appalled by the number of people dying in transit through the area and wanted to do something to save lives. CNN reports that prosecutors saw it differently:
Noting the phrase scrawled on many of the plastic water jugs–”buena suerte,” or “good luck” in Spanish–the prosecutors said, “The obvious conclusion is that the defendant and No More Deaths wish to aid illegal aliens in their entry attempt.”
That’s certainly true. They don’t want them to die. And that constitutes aid. But the argument that not wanting illegal immigrants to die in transit is wrongful is certainly a novel construction of federal law.
So here’s a law exam question: assume on one hand that Stanton and his like leave water behind to avoid the unnecessary death of those crossing the border without proper provisions, and on the other hand, federal prosecutors use all the resources in their control to interdict them, with the clear understanding that their actions make the death of immigrants by dehydration or heat stroke more likely. Whose thinking constitutes scienter associated with a crime?
More from Scott Horton:
Six Questions — October 18, 2014, 8:00 pm
Nathaniel Raymond on CIA interrogation techniques.
Mark Denbeaux on the NCIS cover-up of three “suicides” at Guantánamo Bay Detention Camp
From the June 2014 issue
For the past three years my dosimeter had sat silently on a narrow shelf just inside the door of a house in Tokyo, upticking its final digit every twenty-four hours by one or two, the increase never failing — for radiation is the ruthless companion of time. Wherever we are, radiation finds and damages us, at best imperceptibly. During those three years, my American neighbors had lost sight of the accident at Fukushima. In March 2011, a tsunami had killed hundreds, or thousands; yes, they remembered that. Several also recollected the earthquake that caused it, but as for the hydrogen explosion and containment breach at Nuclear Plant No. 1, that must have been fixed by now — for its effluents no longer shone forth from our national news. Meanwhile, my dosimeter increased its figure, one or two digits per day, more or less as it would have in San Francisco — well, a trifle more, actually. And in Tokyo, as in San Francisco, people went about their business, except on Friday nights, when the stretch between the Kasumigaseki and Kokkai-Gijido-mae subway stations — half a dozen blocks of sidewalk, which commenced at an antinuclear tent that had already been on this spot for more than 900 days and ended at the prime minister’s lair — became a dim and feeble carnival of pamphleteers and Fukushima refugees peddling handicrafts.
One Friday evening, the refugees’ half of the sidewalk was demarcated by police barriers, and a line of officers slouched at ease in the street, some with yellow bullhorns hanging from their necks. At the very end of the street, where the National Diet glowed white and strange behind other buildings, a policeman set up a microphone, then deployed a small video camera in the direction of the muscular young people in drums against fascists jackets who now, at six-thirty sharp, began chanting: “We don’t need nuclear energy! Stop nuclear power plants! Stop them, stop them, stop them! No restart! No restart!” The police assumed a stiffer stance; the drumming and chanting were almost uncomfortably loud. Commuters hurried past along the open space between the police and the protesters, staring straight ahead, covering their ears. Finally, a fellow in a shabby sweater appeared, and murmured along with the chants as he rounded the corner. He was the only one who seemed to sympathize; few others reacted at all.
Number of U.S. congressional districts in which trade with China has produced more jobs than it has cost:
Young bilingual children who learned one language first are likelier than monolingual children and bilingual children who learned languages simultaneously to say that a dog adopted by owls will hoot.
An Oklahoma legislative committee voted to defund Advanced Placement U.S. History courses, accusing the curriculum of portraying the United States as “a nation of oppressors and exploiters.”
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