You have to give France this: when it comes to big words, the Republic is world champion. Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité proudly adorns public buildings, is quoted at every suitable opportunity and has long been part of the national brand. But as soon as the prison door slams shut behind a person, the motto seems to acquire a remarkable addendum: Human dignity? Only as long as you are outside.
A prisoner from Grenoble-Varces prison asks a simple question: “Do we deserve to be treated like dogs?” In principle, every rule-of-law state should reflexively answer with a clear no. Instead, people prefer to debate whether prisoners ‘deserved’ this or that. As if human dignity were a reward for good behavior and not a fundamental right.
Of course: offenders have incurred guilt. That’s why they are in prison. That’s exactly what courts are for. The sentence of imprisonment is indeed deprivation of liberty – not heat torture, not constant stress, not neglect and certainly not dehumanization. Anyone who believes a judge’s verdict automatically includes the right to undignified detention conditions has not understood the point of a rule-of-law state.
But perhaps that is precisely the easiest path. After all, prisoners live behind high walls. You don’t see them. You don’t hear them. You don’t have to concern yourself with them. They are disposed of by society – like old bulky waste. And because they are offenders, any outrage can be neatly brushed aside.
“Serves you right.”
Two words that replace any reflection.
The cells are overcrowded? Serves you right.
40 degrees in the concrete box? Serves you right.
Psychological pressure? Serves you right.
Too little medical care? Serves you right.
It’s fascinating how suddenly efficient morality becomes when it affects others.
One should ask a simple counter-question: What are prisons actually for? Should revenge be organized there or should justice be carried out? Should the state prove that it is better than the person it has convicted – or does it want to show him how low a person can sink?
Ironically, the same society later loudly demands resocialization. The former prisoner should, upon release, please become a law-abiding citizen. As friendly as possible. As integrated as possible. As grateful as possible.
An interesting strategy.
People are confined for years under conditions that even oversight authorities regularly criticize. They are left to live in overcrowded cells, with insufficient employment opportunities, constant psychological stress and an atmosphere of permanent tension – and then people are surprised when not everyone returns as a reformed model citizen.
It is somewhat reminiscent of locking someone in a dark cellar for months and then complaining afterwards that he no longer likes sunlight.
Of course the staff also bear an enormous burden. Prison officers in many places work at their limits, social workers are missing, doctors too. Those who criticize the conditions are not automatically attacking the people who try daily to perform their duties under difficult conditions. On the contrary: they too are victims of a system that has for years operated with overcrowding, staff shortages and political inaction.
Because let’s be honest: the conditions are not surprising. They have been documented for years. Reports are written, recommendations formulated, warnings issued. Afterwards they apparently disappear into a filing cabinet labeled “Sometime later”.
Perhaps it’s simply that the political glamour is lacking. A new prison doesn’t win elections. Better psychiatric care for offenders does not create cheering crowds. Human rights for prisoners sell terribly because they do not guarantee applause.
Populist slogans, on the other hand, do.
It is precisely in the treatment of the weakest that the true character of a state is revealed. Not where everything works, but where no one looks. A rule-of-law state does not prove its strength by treating decent citizens well. Almost all can do that. It proves it where people have made mistakes, have been convicted and still must not lose their dignity.
For that is exactly what distinguishes a rule-of-law state from mere retribution.
The question from the prisoner in Grenoble-Varces therefore is not directed only at prison directors or ministries. It is directed at all of us.
“Do we deserve to be treated like dogs?”
Anyone who answers that with a shrug should be prepared to accept an uncomfortable counter-question: If we begin to distribute human dignity based on sympathy – how long will it take before someone decides that other groups also no longer deserve it?
Human rights work only if they also apply to those we like least.
Everything else is not justice.
It is convenience – dressed up as morality.
A commentary by Andreas M. Brucker