Torture

Rummy’s scapegoat

Brig. Gen. Janis Karpinski -- former commander at Abu Ghraib -- says she was hung out to dry by the Pentagon.

In April 2004, when we first saw the Abu Ghraib photos — hooded Iraqis being tortured, menaced by dogs, sexually abused under the prods and grins of their American captors — our outrage and disgust were just barely tempered by the notion that the U.S. occupation of Iraq could not, and would not, ever be the same. It seemed certain that the photos would change the way the U.S. handles detainees, and bring down the policymakers who made it possible for such behavior to flourish. But a year and a half later, with a handful of low-level soldiers from Abu Ghraib — the proverbial “bad apples” — behind bars, what has really changed? In September, Human Rights Watch issued a lengthy report detailing how troops in the 82nd Airborne routinely tortured detainees at Camp Mercury, a forward operating base near Fallujah, often in response to direct orders from military intelligence. Three soldiers from the 82nd Airborne, including Capt. Ian Fishback, gave a full debriefing to Human Rights Watch after numerous attempts to report the abuse through their chain of command were ignored.

However, when the Abu Ghraib story broke open, one higher-up in the military did get hung out. Brig. Gen. Janis Karpinski arrived in Iraq in June 2003 with the understanding that she would be in charge of the 800th Military Police Brigade as it transitioned from guarding EPWs (enemy prisoners of war) to helping Iraqis retake control of their own prison population. Right away, Karpinski learned that many soldiers under her command who were supposed to be headed home were, in fact, being ordered to stay in Iraq for three to six additional months at least. She also learned that she would be overseeing 17 prisons, including the notorious Abu Ghraib, which was being used temporarily to house a few hundred felons and low-level criminals.

Given that she acted as commander of the prisons, it would seem obvious that Karpinski was responsible for what happened at Abu Ghraib. But her case is complicated. Within months of her arrival in Iraq, Abu Ghraib became a holding pen for massive numbers of Iraqis swept up in U.S. military raids and held as “security detainees.” And while Karpinski was in charge of the military police at the prison, she had no control over interrogations being handled by military intelligence, the CIA or even private contractors. Karpinski contends that as the chain of command and the policies regarding the security detainees at Abu Ghraib became murkier and murkier, she tried in vain not to be sidelined. Ultimately, she says, she had no clue as to the horrific acts taking place inside the prison.

In her new book (written with Steven Strasser), “One Woman’s Army: The Commanding General of Abu Ghraib Tells Her Story,” Karpinski makes a strong argument that she was made a scapegoat by George W. Bush, Donald Rumsfeld, her immediate bosses and military intelligence commanders. Frustratingly, Karpinski never steps up and takes responsibility, in any way, for what happened at Abu Ghraib. Yet, despite her lack of accountability or mea culpa, the book is an often shocking, guns-a-blazing indictment of the inept occupation of Iraq, and of the men who planned it and continue to run it today. Salon reached Karpinski by phone this week to talk about the Gitmo-ization of Abu Ghraib, the policy that keeps thousands of innocent Iraqis behind bars, and the reasons that the people truly responsible for Abu Ghraib are still in power.

At what point after you arrived in Iraq did the U.S. begin rounding up security detainees — people arrested by the U.S. military on suspicion of …

Terrorism. In late August [2003] they started these very aggressive raids. The first operation, up in Mosul, resulted in 37 security detainees arriving in Abu Ghraib. Within about 30 hours, the military interrogation teams had interviewed each one of those 37 and determined that only two of them had value and needed to be held. The other 35 were eligible to be released. And that was a firestorm, because nobody was going to be released.

I was at a briefing over at [Lt. Gen. Ricardo] Sanchez’s headquarters [as the head of coalition forces in Iraq] and the deputy commander, [Maj.] Gen. [Walter] Wodjakowski, turned around to me and said, “You are not to release any one of them, Janis.” And I said, “Sir, that information came from the military intelligence.” And he said, “Get me somebody from the military intelligence.” So this captain comes over and is trying to explain that none of these 35 had any further value. They were in fact in the wrong place at the wrong time, [gathered] up with the target individuals. So, Gen. Wodjakowski now turns on this guy and tells him, “You are not to release any of them. Do you understand me? Am I making myself perfectly clear? You are not to release any one of them.” And this captain tries valiantly to explain that we’ll be holding innocent people, and Gen. Wodjakowski says he doesn’t care.

Well, by the end of September they brought in just over 3,000 security detainees. And none of them were released. And the following month it was at least another 3,000 added to the already 3,000 that were not being released. So in two months’ time, the population at Abu Ghraib was 10 times more than what we had been holding when it was just a regular detention operation.

That means that a huge percentage of people who were in the prison had no reason to be there.

That is unfortunately true. So, say, generally 90 percent of the security detainees being held at Abu Ghraib were just innocent, had no information at all.

In September, Secretary [of Defense Donald] Rumsfeld had sent [Guantánamo Bay commander] Gen. Geoffrey Miller to come and work with the interrogation teams to help them improve their techniques and get more actionable intelligence from their interrogation effort. I was invited to come and sit in his introductory briefing. After the briefing was over, I specifically went to the JAG [Judge Advocate General] officer and I said, “How are you releasing prisoners down at Guantánamo Bay?” She said, “Releasing them? We’re not releasing anybody. These are detainees; these are terrorists; these are not prisoners. And every one of them will likely spend every last day of their lives at Guantánamo Bay.”

I thought, “How can we hold hundreds or thousands of these people in Iraq? We’ll never get out of here.” But that was the plan. And Gen. Wodjakowski said, “I don’t care if we’re holding 15,000 innocent Iraqis, we’re winning the war.” And I said to him, “No, sir, not inside the wire you’re not, because every one of those detainees becomes our enemy when they’re released, and they will be released one day.” [Last week a spokesman for the U.S. military's prison operations said that U.S. forces are holding a total of 13,885 detainees in a number of facilities throughout Iraq.]

So was there a general understanding that the security detainees did not fall under the rubric of the Geneva Conventions?

Yes, there was a general understanding from [Maj.] Gen. [Barbara] Fast [head of intelligence for the U.S. command in Baghdad] and Col. [Marc] Warren [Sanchez's legal advisor] and Gen. Sanchez that the Geneva Conventions did not apply to these detainees.

Talk about the detainees who were purposely not listed anywhere because they potentially had a very high intelligence value — the so-called ghost detainees.

Before those individuals were turned over to us by the task force or OGA [for "other government agency," typically a reference to the CIA], we received a message: “This individual will not be entered in any database. REPEAT not entered in any database. The individual will be secured in a separate section in a location with no contact with other prisoners.” So if the Geneva Conventions say that prisoners will be listed in a database, and you’re not calling them a prisoner, you’re bypassing the Geneva Convention. Most of these messages said at the beginning, “Rumsfeld Sends.”

What was your understanding of how they were being treated as individuals? Were they under the military intelligence people?

In some cases they were. And if the interrogators knew that an ICRC [International Committee of the Red Cross] team was coming to Abu Ghraib they would relocate them until the ICRC team was finished.

To hide them from the ICRC teams.

Yes.

Was there any time when you thought to yourself, I am being a party to, or I am being used by, some forces that are just not right in what they’re doing, i.e., Sanchez or Rumsfeld?

Well, I hate to say this, but I could detect that there were things that were amiss from the beginning. I know I sound like I’m defending myself, but I’m not. In July and August, we had a plan and we were following the plan. We repeatedly said we’re only using [Abu Ghraib] for as long as we need to until we can get the prisoners transferred to other prison facilities around Baghdad or other locations as they become available. We briefed [on] it every week to Bremer and Sanchez, every week.

Then, in August, it changed. They decided to do these raids, hold these security detainees in Abu Ghraib. Without any discussion with me whatsoever, they’re going to make it the interrogation center for Iraq, which makes even less sense. If you have a higher-value detainee, why are you going to put this individual in the middle of the most hostile fire zone in Iraq, the Sunni Triangle?

Let’s talk about what went wrong at Abu Ghraib and how it possibly got to that point.

In September [2003], Col. [Thomas] Pappas [head of military intelligence at Abu Ghraib] asked for control of cellblock 1A and a couple of days later, about a week later, he asked for control of cellblock 1B. And after Gen. Miller’s visit, all of these interrogators started to arrive at Abu Ghraib. Col. Pappas was under tremendous pressure to find Saddam. So there was a handover and then a request, a specific request for [Spc. Charles] Graner to work the night shift in cellblock 1A, because the company commander said he was a prison guard in his civilian role and he would be good to work on the night shift. And they were really shorthanded out there. They took on this mission, and by mid-November they were taking instructions directly from Col. Pappas.

And was he their official C.O. at that point?

No, no. There was never a transition made between him taking command of the units. However, Col. Pappas requested clarification on the chain of command and he was told by Gen. Fast that “he owned all of it” — that was his quote exactly.

So Gen. Fast told Col. Pappas that he was in charge.

Right. This was in November, early November.

Early November. But in fact, theoretically, you were still in charge of everyone in the 800th.

Yes, that’s correct, theoretically. Now, I’m not onsite out at Abu Ghraib, of course. I have 17 different prison facilities and I need to go visit the soldiers at all of them. I’m not going to run Abu Ghraib for the battalion commander because he is responsible for the battalion out there, and I’ve had several conversations about where he needed to improve. So I’m in fact mentoring him as he’s doing this mission. And then Col. Pappas starts to direct his work. That’s what raised the first concern, because the battalion commander came to me and he said, “Ma’am, I just need to know from you, is Col. Pappas my boss or are you my boss?” And I said, “I am still your boss, why?” And he said, “Because Col. Pappas is telling us how to run detention operations.” So when I saw Col. Pappas down at ambassador [Paul] Bremer’s headquarters that Friday, he said yes, that was his understanding, that he was giving instructions. And I said, “Does Col. Jordan work for you?” (He was a lieutenant colonel who was always running the operations at cellblock 1A and B.) And he said, “No, ma’am, he doesn’t work for me. He works for Gen. Fast.” And then I left Baghdad [for a few days on other military business] and when I came back, that was when I found out that they had transferred control of the prison to Col. Pappas.

But even before then it seems like it was a hugely confusing environment just in terms of who was doing what. Then add to that all of the contractors who were there interrogating people and the OGAs. Was there a time when you felt that you were no longer really in control of what was going on there?

Yes. When these security detainees were coming in, we had no release policy that applied to them. Nobody seemed to be concerned about a release policy. And ambassador Bremer, who should have been the person in the middle, didn’t object. This was supposed to be a function that was eventually turned back over to the Iraqi people — to run their courts, to run processing, to run detention operations, to release criminals, to hold criminals, to try criminals — and that was in ambassador Bremer’s lane. But he didn’t object.

And when our prisoner population out at Abu Ghraib in two months’ time went up to over 6,000 because of the security detainees, that’s when I felt, I have no control over this at all.

One of the moments in your book that I actually found the most — I don’t know, the saddest — is when you’re describing the photos that came to light, and included in your description is one photo that we’ve never seen. It’s of a female M.P. who was leading a female prisoner and some guy — was it other MPs or other prisoners …

No, it was a contract interrogator or an M.P. or military interrogator.

… The guy asked the female M.P. to lift the prisoner’s shirt up just as she was walking by.

Show us your breasts.

Right. And she did. How do you account for an atmosphere in which something like that would happen? That’s not really the same atmosphere as the other photographs.

That is a complete violation of trust, complete.

Well why would she get to that point? Doesn’t something like that emerge in a leadership vacuum?

If it’s nothing else, it’s an indication that there is absolutely a leadership vacuum. But when I go out and I talk to soldiers and I talk to prisoners, I have to trust what they’re saying to me is the truth. And this female prisoner was there because her husband was prostituting her, and I think she was being held for her own protection, if I remember the details. So when this female M.P. befriended her, I would believe that it was really out of respect. I mean, they couldn’t be friends, but she talked to her and took special time to make sure that the females [female prisoners] were OK.

But what makes a soldier violate that trust? I can’t answer that question. The people who they believed were authorized to give them orders and instructions have not answered those questions either. When I was at Abu Ghraib, I would walk through the cellblocks. I would walk through the compounds outside. No M.P., no interrogator, no contractor, no prisoner was saying to me, “Please ma’am, help us.” Nothing. Not a hint, not a suggestion. And I’ve never had an opportunity to speak to any one of those soldiers since they were removed from their positions. Not any one of them. So I can’t answer the details of what they were thinking or what went through their heads or why this was allowed to happen.

Yes, they knew the rules. They can’t deny that. But what the atmosphere was, I don’t know.

Do you feel like Rumsfeld is at the heart of all of this and should be held completely accountable for what happened?

Yes, absolutely. And so should his sidekick, [Undersecretary of Defense Stephen] Cambone. Really, I don’t have anything against Alberto Gonzales, but he was involved in the discussions about the departure from Geneva Conventions and dealing with terrorists. So why isn’t he somewhat accountable? Pappas is still on active duty. Sanchez, still on active duty. Fast, promoted and still on active duty, sergeant major of the Army. How are they silencing these guys or maintaining their silence? They’re under the control of Rumsfeld, under the control of the active component.

Do you think that your case is hurt by the fact that you don’t really, in your book or otherwise, take on much responsibility for any role you might have had?

Well, I can tell you that I think — I know — that it’s unfair to suggest, which they did from the beginning, that I allowed this to happen, that somehow I had knowledge and I allowed this to happen. That is untrue.

But this happened under your watch, and you haven’t really come forward saying, ‘I made a lot of mistakes.’ I felt that the book suggests that being a scapegoat, which you unquestionably are, somehow exempts you from any responsibility at all.

From failures. No. That’s a good point. Maybe I didn’t do it with enough effort, but I’ve said in interviews and otherwise, Hold me responsible for the things I could control. And there were a lot of mistakes made in Iraq. But when you then say well, yes, we didn’t do this as well as we could have, or this was a failure, I can tell you that we were so close to being in violation of the Geneva Conventions, just on the conditions for the prisoners. But then it goes to we couldn’t get funding. Why? Because the funds were being looted by American contractors. People can’t believe all of this. They can’t get their arms around all of it. So what they were comfortable with, from the beginning, was to associate my name with those photographs forever. Because without understanding all of the details or asking about the details, people would say, “Oh, Karpinski? Yes, those photographs, Lynndie England, Karpinski, Graner, Karpinski.”

Now, I’m finding that, particularly with the book tour, people are saying, “What did the soldiers say?” And when I say, “I don’t know because I’ve never had an opportunity to speak to any one of them,” it’s like a light bulb goes off over their head. Oh, so they really did deny you access? Absolutely, and continued to.

And yes, we made mistakes. We didn’t do everything perfectly. It was never pretty. But I’ll be damned if 3,400 soldiers are going to be charged as being guilty by association with the 800th M.P. Brigade. That is unfair. And Bremer comes back, $8 billion is missing, and he just simply says it was a war, we’re not always accountable.

Jen Banbury spent eight months in Iraq reporting for Salon. In early March 2004,she filed a story about Abu Ghraib, "Guantanamo on Steroids," which addressed early Iraqi allegations of detainee abuse.

Memorial for America’s conscience

On this holiday, Americans should confront a grim fact about our country: We are torturers

In this Oct. 9, 2007 file photo US military personnel inspect each occupied cell on a two-minute cycle at Camp 5 maximum-security facility on Guantanamo Bay U.S. Naval Base in Cuba. (Credit: AP Photo/Brennan Linsley, file)

Facing the truth is hard to do, especially the truth about ourselves. So Americans have been sorely pressed to come to terms with the fact that after 9/11 our government began to torture people, and did so in defiance of domestic and international law. Most of us haven’t come to terms with what that meant, or means today, but we must reckon with torture, the torture done in our name, allegedly for our safety.

It’s no secret such cruelty occurred; it’s just the truth we’d rather not think about. But Memorial Day is a good time to make the effort. Because if we really want to honor the Americans in uniform who gave their lives fighting for their country, we’ll redouble our efforts to make sure we’re worthy of their sacrifice; we’ll renew our commitment to the rule of law, for the rule of law is essential to any civilization worth dying for.

After 9/11, our government turned to torture, seeking information about the terrorists who committed the atrocity and others who might follow after them. Senior officials ordered the torture of men at military bases and detention facilities in Afghanistan and Iraq, in secret CIA prisons set up across the globe, and in other countries – including Libya and Egypt — where abusive regimes were asked to do Washington’s dirty work.

The best known of all the prisons remains Guantanamo on the southeast coast of Cuba. For years, the United States naval base there seemed like an isolated vestige of the Cold War – defying the occasional threat from Fidel Castro to shut it down. But since 9/11, Guantanamo – Gitmo – has been a detention center, an extraterritorial island jail considered outside the jurisdiction of US civilian courts and rules of evidence. Like the notorious Room 101 of George Orwell’s “1984,” the chamber that contains the thing each victim fears the most to make them confess, Guantanamo’s name has become synonymous with torture. Nearly 800 people have been held there. George W. Bush eventually released 500 of them, sometimes after years of confinement and cruelty. Barack Obama has freed 67, but 169 remain, even though the president pledged to close the Guantanamo prison within a year of his inauguration. Now, forty-six are so dangerous, our government says, they will be held indefinitely, without trial.

We almost never see the detainees. Were it not for the work of human rights organizations and the forest of lawsuits that have arisen from our actions, the prisoners would be out of sight, out of mind. Five of the Guantanamo prisoners were recently arraigned before a military commission for their role in the attacks. One of them is Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, who says he was the mastermind behind 9/11. He was waterboarded by interrogators 183 times. Pentagon officials predict it will be at least another year before the five go on trial.

Earlier this month, lawyers for Mohammed al-Qahtani – the so-called “20th hijacker” who didn’t make it onto the planes — filed suit in New York federal court to make public what they described as “extremely disturbing” videotapes of his interrogations.  He was charged in 2008 with war crimes and murder but the charges were dropped after the former convening authority for the Guantanamo military commissions, Susan Crawford, told journalist Bob Woodward that al-Qahtani’s treatment “met the legal definition of torture.”

He remains in indefinite detention, as does Abu Zubaydah, a Saudi citizen alleged to have run terrorist training camps. He was waterboarded at least 83 times in a single month.  Just this week a federal appeals court refused to release information on the interrogation methods the CIA used on Abu Zubaydah and other terrorist suspects.

You may also have seen the flurry of action this month around a section of the new National Defense Authorization Act that allows the military to detain indefinitely not only members of al Qaeda, the Taliban and “associated forces” but anyone who has “substantially supported” them.  A federal court struck down that provision in response to journalists and advocates who believe it could be so broadly interpreted it would violate civil liberties.  Nonetheless, two days after the court’s decision, the House of Representatives reaffirmed the original provision.

The other day, eight members of the Bush Administration – including President Bush, Vice President Cheney, and Defense Secretary Rumsfeld – were found guilty of torture and other war crimes by an unofficial tribunal meeting in Malaysia.  The story was played widely in parts of the world press, with reports that the judgment could lead the way to proceedings before the International Criminal Court in The Hague. It received almost no mention here in the United States.

This summer, it’s believed that the United States Senate’s intelligence committee finally will release a report on “enhanced interrogation techniques,” that euphemistic phrase for what any reasonable person not employed by the government would call torture. The report has been three years in the making, with investigators examining millions of classified documents. The news service Reuters says the report will conclude that techniques such as waterboarding and sleep deprivation do not yield worthwhile intelligence information.

So here we are, into our eleventh year after 9/11, still at war in Afghanistan, still at war with terrorists, still at war with our collective conscience as we grapple with how to protect our country from attack without violating the basic values of civilization — the rule of law, striving to achieve our aims without corrupting them, and restraint in the use of power over others, especially when exercised in secret.

In future days and years, how will we come to cope with the reality of what we have done in the name of security? Many other societies do seem to try harder than we do to come to terms with horrendous behavior commissioned or condoned by a government. Beginning in 1996, in South Africa, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission held hearings at which whites and blacks struggled to confront the cruelty inflicted on human beings during apartheid.

And perhaps you caught something said the other day by the president of Brazil, Dilma Roussef.  During the early seventies she was held in prison and tortured repeatedly by the military dictators who ruled her country for nearly 25 years. The state of Rio de Janeiro has announced it will officially apologize to her. Earlier, when she swore in members of a commission investigating the dictatorship, President Roussef said: “We are not moved by revenge, hate or a desire to rewrite history. The need to know the full truth is what moves us.”

In other words, “You shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free.”

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Bill Moyers is managing editor of the new weekly public affairs program, "Moyers & Company," airing on public television. Check local airtimes or comment at www.BillMoyers.com.

Michael Winship is senior writing fellow at Demos and a senior writer of the new series, Moyers & Company, airing on public television.

Bush aide blasts torture

Philip Zelikow tried to warn Bush on interrogations. Now he's penned an authoritative article on how he was ignored

(Credit: Reuters/Jim Young)

The Bush administration hasn’t heard the last from Philip Zelikow. After the rediscovery last week of his long lost 2006 anti-torture memo, Zelikow, a former State Department official, has written arguably the most damning article yet about U.S. government’s interrogation policies from 2001 to 2009. The article, called “Codes of Conduct for a Twilight War,” will be released in a forthcoming issue of the Houston Law Journal, and was obtained exclusively by Salon. Says Zelikow in an email: “I’m not aware of other accounts that combine historical, policy and legal approaches to” the subject of the Bush administration’s interrogation methods.

Based on published histories and his firsthand observations, and adapted from a lecture delivered in November, the article calls the administration’s rationale for its use of torture — which he nonetheless insists only on calling “extreme interrogation” and “coercive methods” — “radical,” “an amazing contention,” “untenable and extreme,” “unsustainable,” “an unprecedented program of coolly calculated dehumanizing abuse and physical torment,” and, finally, simply a “mistake.” He concludes: “This was a collective failure of American public leadership, in which a number of officials and members of Congress (and staffers) of both parties played a part, endorsing a CIA program of physical coercion without any precedent in U.S. history.”  In fact, “The only defense against criminal prosecution would be that officials acted in good faith reliance on the advice of their government lawyers.”

Part of what makes Zelikow’s analysis so damning and definitive is its judiciousness. The article is deeply empathetic of the uniquely fearful situation under which the Bush administration was initially operating. Zelikow calls the Sept. 11 attacks a “collective trauma” and a “shoc[k] to mass beliefs.” He notes that Bush and others spent time in burn units, morgues and with survivors of the attacks. One traumatic experienced often overlooked — overlooked because it appeared in Stephen Hayes’ stenographic biography of Dick Cheney — was that the vice-president’s daughter was (falsely, it turns out) told that her house with her children in it had tested positive for anthrax. Similarly, Cheney and National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice were told that they and others had been exposed to an extremely lethal toxin in a particular area of the White House — and might soon die as a result. “The alarms did not stop and they too were not abstract … The pressure on Bush and his senior advisers was so direct because so much of the response had to be invented and improvised,” the article reads.

An additional factor in the power of the article is Zelikow’s credibility and history. Before entering government, he was a civil rights lawyer in Texas battling the Ku Klux Klan and then a highly esteemed Harvard historian specializing in U.S. foreign policy — he co-authored one book with Rice. He then served on the National Security Council under President George H.W. Bush and directed the 9/11 Commission before becoming counselor to Rice at the State Department from 2005 to 2007. He currently volunteers part-time on the President’s Intelligence Advisory Board under President Obama.

Such bipartisan, establishment credentials render the breakdown and conclusion of this article all the more damning. He believes that what should have been a political and moral question — should the United States torture captives? — became strictly a legal matter left up to government lawyers, few of whom had any experience with these issues, and who had to take the necessity of extreme measures as a given. “These lawyers then became secular priests, granting absolution to the supplicant policymakers,” Zelikow writes.

The problems began when the Office of the Vice President and the CIA took central roles in policymaking. Cheney felt himself above the rest of the National Security Council, bypassing Rice and other traditional channels of national security policymaking. Ad-hoc decision-making and improvisation became “a habit of thought,” which seemed initially to pay off in the security of the nation, as well as in Bush’s political standing and self-confidence.

With Cheney and CIA head George Tenet “the key entrepreneurs in setting codes of conduct for the War on Terror,” it was essentially left to their obsequious lawyers to decide, in secret, on the interrogation methods America should employ. Bush even told the Senate’s Intelligence Committee chairman that “the vice president should be your point of contact … [He] has the portfolio for intelligence activities.” Decisions were made to jettison international treaties. By December 2001, the CIA was already interested in reverse-engineering methods “heretofore used only to treat Americans to resist enemy torture.” When a senior al-Qaida member was captured in March 2002, the prototype for the administration’s torture policies was already developed. “So, for the first time in American history, leaders of the U.S. government carefully devised ways and means to torment enemy captives.”

Zelikow notes that “None of the policy or moral issues connected with these choices appear to have been analyzed in any noticeable way.” Perhaps worst of all, no serious consideration was given to weighing the costs of benefits of the torture program, with reference to relevant historical precedents and/or examinations of the respective French, British and Israeli experiences in dealing with captured terrorists. “Bush and Rice should have insisted on this,” Zelikow writes.

The 52-page article observes the successes of Obama’s counterterrorism policies after repudiating the use of torture. On the basis of the empirical evidence then, “[t]here is no evident correlations between intelligence success and the available of extreme interrogation methods,” no matter what Bush and Cheney claim. Finally, “The program’s costs — which include the high-level effort expended in order to establish, maintain, and defense the program — appear on the evidence so far to have well outweighed any unique value the program might have had as a method of counterterrorism intelligence collection.” This is apart from the damage to America’s international standing and corrosion of its traditional values.

Zelikow concludes his analysis by arguing that, although the Obama administration has the right to wage war and use extralegal methods to defeat al-Qaida, its claim of that authority to defeat “associated forces” is unwarranted. “The U.S. government should publish and explain any overarching policy and legal documents that guide and confine the conduct of deadly operation against its foreign enemies … the executive branch of the U.S. government has a duty to articulate the scope of its warfare to the Congress and the public.” The Bush administration’s unprecedented elevation of torture to national policy may be history, but the job to get U.S. foreign policy in line with its constitutional and moral obligations is far from over.

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Jordan Michael Smith writes about U.S. foreign policy for Salon. He has written for the New York Times, Boston Globe and Washington Post.

The memo Bush tried to destroy

A document advising the Bush administration against torture has resurfaced, despite his best efforts to hide it

George W. Bush in 2006 (Credit: AP/Ron Edmonds)

In February of 2006, Philip Zelikow, counselor to Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, authored a memo opposing the Bush administration’s torture practices (though he employed the infamous obfuscation of “enhanced interrogation techniques”). The White House tried to collect and destroy all copies of the memo, but one survived in the State Department’s bowels and was declassified yesterday in response to a Freedom of Information Act request by the National Security Archive.

The memo argues that the Convention Against Torture, and the Constitution’s prohibitions against cruel and unusual punishment, do indeed apply to the CIA’s use of “waterboard[ing], walling, dousing, stress positions, and cramped confinement.” Zelikow further wrote in the memo that “we are unaware of any precedent in World War II, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, or any subsequent conflict for authorized, systematic interrogation practices similar to those in question here, even when the prisoners were presumed to be unlawful combatants.” According to the memo, the techniques are legally prohibited, even if there is a compelling state interest to justify them, since they should be considered cruel and unusual punishment and “shock the conscience.”

Chillingly, the memo notes that “corrective techniques, such as slaps,” may be legally sustained, as might be “[C]ontrol conditions, such as nudity, sleep deprivation, and liquid diets…depending on the circumstances and details of how these techniques are used.” However much distress Zelikow’s memo caused the White House, it was not an ACLU briefing paper.

“I’m pleased the memo is now part of the historical record and available for study,” Zelikow wrote Salon in an email. The White House had determined that the memo — which was not binding since Zelikow’s was a bureaucratic position without legal authority — was too dangerous to exist. “I later heard the memo was not considered appropriate for further discussion and that copies of my memo should be collected and destroyed,” he said in a May 2009 congressional hearing.

At that hearing, before the Senate Committee on the Judiciary, Subcommittee on Administrative Oversight and the Courts, Zelikow said he had “no view on whether former officials should be prosecuted,” a decision he thinks should be left to “institutions.” However, he did call for a thorough inquiry and a public report examining how the U.S. came to employ torture.

Of course, no such inquiry was ever launched. The Obama administration declined to revisit the U.S. employment of torture, with the president saying he didn’t want to “look back.” Zelikow believes this was a mistake. “I still believe an inquiry would be useful, though less so as time passes and more information becomes available, especially after the 9/11 trials conclude, hopefully this year,” he says in an email.

During his congressional testimony, Zelikow declined to say whether Department of Justice lawyers acted improperly or immorally, conceding only that their opinions were “unsound, even unreasonable.” But in a 2007 lecture in Houston, he had no problem saying “the cool, carefully considered, methodical, prolonged, and repeated subjection of captives to physical torment, and the accompanying psychological terror, is immoral.”

The importance of the memo lies in its revelation that there was real, serious debate inside the Bush administration about how to interrogate captured terrorist suspects. The members of the White House declined to enter that debate — indeed, they did their best to squash it. The destruction of Zelikow’s carefully reasoned memo suggests the White House did not want any record of alternative views even existing, lest they be considered reasonable or people get the idea that the torture policies were thought controversial even by members of the administration.

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Jordan Michael Smith writes about U.S. foreign policy for Salon. He has written for the New York Times, Boston Globe and Washington Post.

Extraordinary rendition lawsuit also window into low point for American experiment

A fight between subcontractors leads to the publication of details of the CIA's secret kidnapping program

The lobby of the CIA Headquarters Building in McLean, Virginia, August 14, 2008. REUTERS/Larry Downing (UNITED STATES)(Credit: © Larry Downing / Reuters)

A lawsuit between two aviation companies concerning a couple hundred thousand dollars in unpaid expenses has inadvertently led to the publicizing of a great deal of information about the CIA’s extraordinary rendition program. (The program involved the illegal transport of thousands of terrorism suspects to secret CIA prisons in foreign nations and then to countries where suspects could be tortured. It is basically “kidnapping” followed by “torture” but the CIA did it so no one went to jail for it.)

The records from this lawsuit between two sub-contractors involved in the renditions will eventually be taught in an undergrad history course titled “America: Where It All Went Wrong.” Detainees were transported by the same companies that fly billionaires on private jets to their resort vacations. (The CIA doesn’t have an air force, so they relied on massive government contractor DynCorp, which… just rented some private planes.)

We learn that the CIA provided the flights with letters from a fictional State Department official (the State Department was almost certainly not involved in the rendition program) providing diplomatic cover.

We learn that one the planes used to transport a suspect (Abu Omar, captured in Italy and tortured in Egypt) was owned by the co-owner of the Boston Red Sox. The plane sported a Red Sox logo on the tail. I mean a Yankees plane might’ve been more poetically apt but either way it seems like such a pat symbol of America’s behavior in the wretched first decade of the 21st century that I’d roll my eyes at it if it turned up in a piece of fiction. An executive’s private plane, sporting the logo of a rich baseball team and carrying an Imam captured overseas by the CIA, touches down in Egypt, a nation led by an American-backed strongman, where the Imam is to be tortured. What preachy liberal hack dreamed up that one? (The executive also owns part of Liverpool FC, because we can’t forget Great Britain’s help in all this.)

Then the hedge funds took an interest in privatized torture:

DynCorp was purchased in 2003 by Computer Sciences Corp., another leading federal contractor, in a $940 million merger. Computer Sciences Corp. then took on a supervising role in the rendition flights through 2006, according to invoices and emails in the court files. CSC sold three DynCorp units in 2005 to Veritas Capital Fund, a private equity firm, for $850 million, but retained ownership of other parts of the old company. Veritas in turn sold the restructured DynCorp — now known as DynCorp International — for about $1 billion in 2010 to Cerebrus Capital Management, another private equity fund.

So at least a couple rich people got even richer off of our national shame. There’s an upside to everything.

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Alex Pareene

Alex Pareene writes about politics for Salon and is the author of "The Rude Guide to Mitt." Email him at apareene@salon.com and follow him on Twitter @pareene

New “sick details” emerge about water torture

On "Countdown," Jeremy Scahill discusses how the DOD hid behind waterboarding while using other water tortures

Jeremy Scahill on "Countdown"

The official government narrative, as defended by Donald Rumsfeld, is that no prisoners were waterboarded at Guantanamo Bay; the CIA did use waterboarding as an interrogation technique, but only at so-called “black sites”; and only three prisoners were subjected to this treatment.

However, new evidence is emerging to the contrary, largely in anecdotal form. As Truthout reported this week, a number of stories have come out about forced water choking and other uses of water for torture at sites including Gitmo.

Investigative reporter Jeremy Scahill discussed the issue with Keith Olbermann Thursday. He recalled an incident he had investigated (which would not be classified as waterboarding) of a former Guantanamo detainee having a high pressure water hose fixed up a nostril. Water would be forced up his head until suffocation.

Scahill noted President Obama’s “extremely poor record” at holding people accountable for torturous acts and expressed concern that little has changed at Guantanamo.

Rumsfeld currently faces a lawsuit over the alleged use of torture, bought by a former military translator held in Iraq for nine months, but Scahill emphasized that the U.S. administration always tends to get its people off the hook.

Watch the clip for “Countdown” below:

 

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Natasha Lennard covers the Occupy movement for Salon. A British-born, Brooklyn-based journalist, she has been covering Occupy Wall Street since before the first sleeping bag was unrolled in Zuccotti Park. One of the first journalists arrested at an Occupy action, she has managed to enrage Andrew Breitbart, Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck. You can follow her on Twitter (@natashalennard), and email her any Occupy updates/videos/ideas to natasha.lennard@gmail.com

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