Synagogue gunman’s trial opens

Was hatred the motive? defense asks; survivor takes stand

In this courtroom sketch, Robert Bowers, the suspect in the 2018 synagogue massacre, confers with his legal team on Tuesday, May 30, 2023, in Pittsburgh. Bowers could face the death penalty if convicted of some of the 63 counts he faces in the shootings, which claimed the lives of worshippers from three congregations who were sharing the building, Dor Hadash, New Light and Tree of Life. (David Klug via AP)
In this courtroom sketch, Robert Bowers, the suspect in the 2018 synagogue massacre, confers with his legal team on Tuesday, May 30, 2023, in Pittsburgh. Bowers could face the death penalty if convicted of some of the 63 counts he faces in the shootings, which claimed the lives of worshippers from three congregations who were sharing the building, Dor Hadash, New Light and Tree of Life. (David Klug via AP)

PITTSBURGH -- Even though Robert Bowers' defense acknowledged at the outset of his federal trial Tuesday that he was the gunman who killed 11 people and injured seven others, they hope to spare the suburban truck driver from a possible death sentence over the Oct. 27, 2018, massacre at a Pittsburgh synagogue.

Bowers "shot every person he saw" that day in the building, his lead lawyer, Judy Clarke, said in her opening statement. But she questioned whether Bowers had acted out of hatred, as prosecutors contend, or an irrational belief that he needed to kill Jews to save others from the genocide he claimed they were enabling by helping immigrants come to the U.S.

"He had what to us is this unthinkable, nonsensical, irrational thought that by killing Jews he would attain his goal," Clarke said. "There is no making sense of this senseless act. Mr. Bowers caused extraordinary harm to many, many people."

Prosecutors -- who rejected Bowers' offer to plead guilty in exchange for taking the death penalty off the table -- opened their case by describing the terror he sowed as he moved through the synagogue, opening fire indiscriminately.


Jurors heard a frantic 911 call played by Tree of Life Rabbi and attack survivor Jeffrey Myers, who took shelter in the first minutes of the attack.

"I hear people screaming," he said on the call, his voice shaky and urgent. "The person is still shooting."

On the witness stand, Myers testified that he was in front of the congregation at the start of the service, and after hearing gunfire in the lobby urged worshippers to flee if they were able -- and told those who were elderly and frail to lie down or to hide.

He wiped away tears as prosecutor Eric Olshan asked him about a portion of the 911 recording in which he could be heard whispering.

"I was praying," Myers explained, adding after a long pause: "I expected to die."

He said he was trying to decide whether to make a last phone call or video for his wife but decided that leaving such a legacy "wouldn't be fair to her." Instead, he stayed on the line with 911.

"I thought about the history of my people, how we've been persecuted and hunted and slaughtered for centuries and how all of them must have felt the moments before their death, and what did they do," Myers testified.

He said he knew some of his congregants had been killed, and "I asked God to forgive me because I couldn't save them."

Prosecutors say Bowers made incriminating statements to investigators and left an online trail of antisemitic statements that they say shows the attack was motivated by religious hatred. Police shot Bowers three times before he surrendered.

"The depths of the defendant's malice and hate can only be proven in the broken bodies" of the victims and "his hateful words," Assistant U.S. Attorney Soo C. Song told the 12 jurors and six alternates hearing the case.

Song described in detail how worshippers from three congregations who shared the synagogue -- Dor Hadash, New Light and the Tree of Life -- arrived that Sabbath to pray and to socialize in what should have been a safe place.

As she spoke, some of the survivors in the somber courtroom dabbed tears. Bowers, seated at the defense table, showed no reaction.

The jury also heard a 911 call from congregant Bernice Simon, who reported "We're being attacked!" and that her husband, Sylvan Simon, had been shot. Bernice Simon was shot while still on the line -- her last, labored breaths clearly audible.

"Bernice, are you still with me?" Shannon Basa-Sabol, the dispatcher who took the call, asked in the recording. There was no answer. Neither of the Simons survived.

In a filing earlier this year, prosecutors said Bowers "harbored deep, murderous animosity towards all Jewish people." They said he also expressed hatred for HIAS, founded as the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society, a nonprofit humanitarian group that helps refugees and asylum-seekers.

Prosecutors wrote in a court filing that Bowers had nearly 400 followers on his Gab social media account "to whom he promoted his antisemitic views and calls to violence against Jews."

In the long run-up to the trial, Bowers' lawyers spent little time during jury selection asking how potential jurors would reach a verdict.

Instead, they focused on the penalty phase and how jurors would decide whether to impose the death penalty in a case of a man charged with hate-motivated killings in a house of worship.

The defense lawyers, who recently said Bowers has schizophrenia and brain impairments, probed whether potential jurors could consider factors such as mental illness or a difficult childhood.

The families of those killed are divided over whether the government should pursue the death penalty, but most have voiced support for it.

Attorney General Merrick Garland, has temporarily paused federal executions to review policies and procedures, but federal prosecutors continue to vigorously work to uphold death sentences that have been issued and, in some cases, to pursue new death sentences at trial.

Information for this article was contributed by Michael Rubinkam of The Associated Press.

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