Foreword & Afterword
Nils Melzer, UN Special Rapporteur on Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment
Alberto Mora, Former Navy General Counsel
Foreword
Hardly any norm of international law commands as much consensus and authority as the prohibition of torture. It is universally recognized as absolute, non-derogable and peremptory. It protects all human beings without discrimination and in all situations without exception, it cannot be restricted even in war and other situations of public emergency, it cannot be abolished even by treaty, and any contradicting legislative, administrative or judicial act is not only inherently unlawful, but originally void. States must prevent torture throughout their jurisdiction, may not use any information obtained through torture, and may not transfer anyone to another jurisdiction where they may be exposed to torture. In criminal law, violations of the prohibition of torture invariably figure among the gravest offences, including war crimes and crimes against humanity, and must be investigated and prosecuted as a matter of universal jurisdiction. This, in a nutshell, is the international law on torture.
In reality, however, torture is still practiced with disturbing frequency and near complete impunity in all regions of the world. Torture is used to interrogate, intimidate, coerce, punish and discriminate. It is used to break resistance, force confessions, and silence witnesses, to extort money, sex or cooperation, to deter migrants, exploit labor, and subdue political opponents, and to terrorize, disempower and humiliate a wide range of critical voices and marginalized segments of society. Every day, people are being prevented from leaving, or are extradited, deported, or returned to countries where they face near certain torture, rape or murder. Every night, countless children, women and men face violence, abuse and even death in their own homes, often with the complacency of their communities and the acquiescence of the State. In recent years, it has become increasingly acceptable for politicians to promote responses to terrorism, narcotics, criminality and migration that are clearly incompatible with the prohibition of torture, and even contemporary mainstream entertainment portrays torture as an effective means of last resort in the everlasting struggle between good and evil.
So what has gone wrong? How can reality deviate so drastically from one of the most authoritative legal provisions ever codified in human history? Does the prohibition of torture no longer reflect the moral imperatives and utilitarian pragmatism of our time?
The only convincing explanation for the continued use of interrogational torture throughout all times and contexts is that its primary purpose never was to find the truth, but always has been to dictate or suppress the truth, or to otherwise dominate, coerce and intimidate—tasks for which torture is very effective.
From a moral standpoint, torture, along with slavery and genocide, doubtlessly has come to epitomize the absolute and unforgivable evil. Even those who openly promote coercive interrogation generally do so under the guise of euphemisms, such as “enhanced interrogation” and “pressure techniques”, and may even refer to specific methods, such as “waterboarding” or “stress positions”, but would never admit that what they are advocating is nothing else than torture. This moral consensus is remarkable given that, for most of human history, torture was common practice and morally accepted as a byproduct of absolute power. The peremptory prohibition of torture has grown out of the horrors of World War II, and it is no coincidence that it begins to erode again precisely at the time when the last witnesses of those horrors are dying away. The moral imperative of the prohibition of torture still is a fairly recent achievement, too recent perhaps to be sufficiently immune to bad faith attacks in the face of purportedly existential threats. The problem is not that the prohibition of torture no longer reflects our moral values, but that our common perception of torture no longer reflects the reality of torture, that we have become totally disconnected from the dirty truth of what torture really is and what torture really does, not only to its victims, but also to its perpetrators and to any society tolerating such profoundly dehumanizing abuse. Unless we wake rapidly from our collective amnesia and stop the current downward spiral, humanity may well have to learn the same lesson again the hard way.
From a utilitarian perspective, we may celebrate scientific evidence demonstrating the ineffectiveness of torture for the extraction of reliable information, but we tend to forget that these findings do not come as a surprise to the torturers themselves. Throughout history and across cultures, interrogators, prosecutors and judges may have been cruel, corrupt or indifferent, but the inherent unreliability of any information extracted under excruciating pain and anguish cannot possibly have escaped their common sense. The only convincing explanation for the continued use of interrogational torture throughout all times and contexts is that its primary purpose never was to find the truth, but always has been to dictate or suppress the truth, or to otherwise dominate, coerce and intimidate – tasks for which torture is very effective.
By integrating all three perspectives and cleaning up with a broad range of myths and misconceptions, the authors contributing to this book jointly expose the ugly truth of torture and make an incontrovertible call for the eradication of coercive interrogation.
The real paradigm shift of non-coercive interviewing lies not in scientifically demonstrating the ineffectiveness of torture for the extraction of reliable information, but in unveiling the true purpose of all coercive interrogation. It exposes how ruthlessly States practicing coercive interrogation are betraying their lip service to the letter of the law, and how complacent or even complicit they are with the corrupted logic of forced confessions, which so conveniently intimidate opponents, produce culprits and scapegoats, and reduce the judicial case-load in short, effortless and inexpensive proceedings, but which also make a complete mockery of human dignity, justice, and the rule of law.
As we have seen, in order to overcome the scourge of interrogational torture, neither its absolute prohibition, nor its universal moral condemnation, or its demonstrated ineffectiveness for any legitimate purpose are sufficient in themselves. By integrating all three perspectives and cleaning up with a broad range of myths and misconceptions, the authors contributing to this book jointly expose the ugly truth of torture and make an incontrovertible call for the eradication of coercive interrogation, in fulfillment of the unequivocal promise made by the Universal Declaration of Human Rights to all members of the human family: “No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment!”
Afterword
The Corrosive Strategic Legacy of Torture
The U.S. policy to adopt torture[1] as an interrogation technique after the 9/11 attacks had a relatively short life span, yet it was deeply corrosive to the national interest and continues to be.[2] First adopted by the administration of President George W. Bush in the summer of 2002, it was formally terminated by an executive order signed by President Barrack Obama on January 22, 2009, his second day in office. The actual official use of torture may even have been shorter: press reporting in 2003 on rumors of torture, the explosive and revolting revelations of the Abu Ghraib scandal in 2004, the exposure of the CIA’s archipelago of torture “black sites,” and mounting domestic and international outrage, among other factors, all appear to have contributed to the de facto abandonment of the policy even before the end of the Bush administration. But it would be a mistake to conclude that the end of the use of torture meant the end of all of the torture policy’s effects or that the United States has returned to the pre-lapsation status quo ante; while the use of torture may have been abandoned, for now, the long-lasting damage caused by the U.S. torture policies—which has been inadequately addressed and is often unrecognized—endures. As it was for the United States, so would it be for any country, torture is a tactical measure that invariably triggers adverse strategic consequences.
Collateral Costs and Consequences
What is that damage? The answer to this question in large measure depends on how the issues are framed. Unfortunately, much of the public discourse on the use of torture has not framed the issues properly.
The Bush administration’s torture program’s architects, alumni, and other apologists for the policy maintain that it was legal (i.e., not torture), necessary, medically safe (for its victims), and effective. They assert that the program “worked,” meaning—as they interpret the term “worked”—that it yielded information from the torture victims that had intelligence or military utility and contributed in some significant way to keeping America “safe.” But to frame the issue of whether or not to use torture exclusively on the alleged yield from the interrogation sessions is to adopt an excessively narrow framing of the scope of the issue. As political messaging, this unquestionably succeeded in providing potent and durable political cover for the use of torture, but as policy analysis it has several disabilities. The first disability is that the claim does not appear to be true; the United States Senate Select Committee on Intelligence (SSCI) Report found that the Central Intelligence Agency’s (CIA) own internal documents don’t support the Agency’s claim of effectiveness. This renders the CIA claim at best unproven and at worst potentially entirely false. But, more importantly, the major disability is that to defend the use of torture mainly on the basis of its putative interrogative effectiveness is to adopt an overly narrow set of criteria by which to evaluate the program’s costs or benefits. To properly weigh the merits of any policy, one should not limit oneself to just the claimed benefits of the policy but should also identify what its collateral consequences and costs may be.
As it was for the United States, so would it be for any country, torture is a tactical measure that invariably triggers adverse strategic consequences.
The Narrow Objectives
The Bush administration seems never to have engaged in any significant policy analysis of the decision to use torture. No National Security Council memo analyzing the costs and benefits of such a policy has surfaced nor is there any evidence that such an analysis was ever considered. Indeed, as Philip Zelikow, the historian, 9/11 Commission chief of staff, and former State Department Counselor, has observed, that administration only posed itself the question “Can we do this?,” never “Should we do this?” The interrogation methods were thus formally only seen as legal issues, not policy issues. Of course, it is unlikely that any U.S. administration bent on applying torture but anxious to avoid criminal liability would commission such a legally incriminating memo, but the absence of any significant policy analysis prior to the adoption of the torture policy was a contributing factor to the poor decision.
The Bush administration seems never to have engaged in any significant policy analysis of the decision to use torture. No National Security Council memo analyzing the costs and benefits of such a policy has surfaced nor is there any evidence that such an analysis was ever considered. Indeed, as Philip Zelikow, the historian, 9/11 Commission chief of staff, and former State Department Counselor, has observed, that administration only posed itself the question “Can we do this?,” never “Should we do this?” The interrogation methods were thus formally only seen as legal issues, not policy issues. Of course, it is unlikely that any U.S. administration bent on applying torture but anxious to avoid criminal liability would commission such a legally incriminating memo, but the absence of any significant policy analysis prior to the adoption of the torture policy was a contributing factor to the poor decision.
The first objective—the use of torture—was quickly achieved. With the support of the White House, particularly Vice President Dick Cheney and his staff but also with the support of the President, the legal approval of the Department of Justice, and the policy approval of the full National Security Council, the CIA was authorized to implement what became its Rendition, Detention, and Interrogation (“RDI”) program. The torture was applied through the use of “Enhanced Interrogation Techniques”—the puckishly euphemistic term applied to torture techniques borrowed from North Vietnamese and Chinese interrogators—and by “extraordinary rendition,” the outsourced use of torture obtained by transferring prisoners to third countries, such as Syria, Egypt, and Morocco, where they were inhumanly interrogated. Relying on the authority granted to the CIA, the Defense Department followed suit by employing “Counter-Resistance Interrogation Techniques” in 2002 against high-value prisoners held at Guantánamo and other sadistic practices against prisoners in Afghanistan and Iraq, including Abu Ghraib. For each prisoner abused under specific orders, such as those in Guantánamo or those in Iraq, or the efforts made to “Gitmoize” detention operations in another country, many more suffered at the hands of individual soldiers or units that that were not acting under orders but who perceived that the use of brutality against prisoners was tacitly approved. The official adoption of torture at Guantánamo and the CIA black sites became known to others through informal channels and that led to its unofficial metastasis.
The use of torture was made possible by a series of express legal authorizations issued in 2002 by the Department of Justice to the CIA and the Department of Defense. Obtaining these authorizations satisfied the administration’s second objective. These authorizations were drafted by the Department’s Office of Legal Counsel and were contained in a series of secret legal memoranda now commonly referred to as the “Torture Memos.” One series of memos declared that the Geneva Conventions were inapplicable to Al Qaeda and Taliban “unlawful combatants,” thus removing an important legal obstacle against the brutal treatment of these captives. A second series of critical memoranda legally redefined the term “torture” to require such a high level of abuse before the brutality would legally qualify as torture that almost all torment, including the CIA’s “enhanced interrogation techniques,” were deemed not to meet the threshold. Once exposed and made public in later years, these memos were widely ridiculed and eventually withdrawn by DOJ, but not before they had achieved their purpose of creating a veneer of faux “legality” to the torture program and had enabled the president and those subordinates involved in the program to claim, then and subsequently, that they were not torturing and were always acting in reliance on and consistent with the advice of DOJ counsel.
Once exposed and made public in later years, these memos were widely ridiculed and eventually withdrawn by DOJ, but not before they had achieved their purpose of creating a veneer of faux “legality” to the torture program.
But the memoranda were not written in good faith, and it would be surprising if many of those administration officials who were at least partially shielded in the United States from civil and criminal liability by the Torture Memos were unaware of this or that they were actually committing torture. In fact, the memos have been cited as examples of what appear to be “results-oriented lawyering,” a derogatory term meaning memos that were written to permit a certain result by improperly twisting, ignoring, or redefining the law rather than by objectively applying the law to determine whether the desired outcome is legally permissible. To appreciate the degree of distortion, it is helpful to engage in a “before and after” comparison. Before 9/11 and the Torture Memos, this is how the U.S. State Department, speaking on behalf of the government, characterized the categorical nature of the U.S. legal prohibitions against torture in a 1999 submission to the U.N. Committee Against Torture:
Torture is prohibited by law throughout the United States. It is categorically denounced as a matter of policy and as a tool of state authority. Every act constituting torture under the Convention [Against Torture] constitutes a criminal offence under the law of the United States. No official of the Government, federal, state or local, civilian or military, is authorized to commit or to instruct anyone else to commit torture. Nor many any official condone or tolerate torture in any form. No exceptional circumstances may be invoked as a justification of torture. United States law contains no provision permitting otherwise prohibited acts of torture or other cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment to be employed on ground of exigent circumstances (for example, during a “state of public emergency”) or upon orders from a superior officer or public authority, and the protective mechanisms of an independent judiciary are not subject to suspension.
The Torture Memos did not reflect these standards; after the Torture Memos and as a consequence, virtually all of the legal restrictions recited above were violated or circumvented.
As to the fourth objective—ensuring that no one involved in the torture program would be held criminally accountable—the Bush administration, with the assistance of Congress and subsequent administrations, fully succeeded in accomplishing this goal. No one associated with the torture program who served in the While House, Department of Justice, or CIA has been charged with criminal responsibility. On the contrary, many have been honored and promoted, such as Gina Haspel and Steven Bradbury, two key participants of the program who were respectively promoted to CIA Director and General Counsel of the Department of Transportation in the Trump administration. In the military, a few low-level soldiers associated with some abuses have received some punishment , but no one associated with the military’s implementation of the CIA’s enhanced interrogation program at Guantánamo and elsewhere has been punished.
The Broader Consequences
Because torture is inherently immoral, there are many who object to any policy analysis of its use, particularly one that that assesses its “benefits” as well as costs. I share the view that torture is immoral and that that constitutes a necessary reason to prohibit its use. But I wholeheartedly disagree with the idea that subjecting it to policy analysis is inappropriate. The norm against torture and the historical national consensus that torture is always wrong were shattered by 9/11. Many polls since then show that many Americans—and, in some polls, most Americans—support the use of torture if it could be useful in helping them be safer. These Americans, President Donald Trump among them, do not even glance at, much less prioritize, the moral or the legal arguments. They are and will likely continue to be situationalists, meaning that they will make the decision to use torture or not depending on their perception of the magnitude of the threat. The use of torture after 9/11 demonstrates that laws alone may be insufficient to prevent torture if another crisis once again motivates the country’s top leaders to violate the law with the acquiescence of a supportive or passive Congress and public. The politics of torture thus require that the policy issues be addressed, not ignored. If these Americans can be convinced that the use of torture did not make them safer and was against the national interest, then there is hope that the former consensus against torture can be restored and the tendency to approve of torture situationally in “ticking time bomb” scenarios will not be normalized. More broadly, the application of policy analysis can help clarify the multitude of reasons why the categorical prohibition of torture is a rule we should wish to keep. Happily, the data from our recent national flirtation with torture support that conclusion.
The assessment of the costs of the torture program to the United States may be a matter of cost/benefit policy analysis, but it is not narrowly utilitarian. Many individuals, including senior military leaders, have fallen under the seductive logic of the ticking time bomb hypothetical, not realizing that among the reasons why it is not a reliable guide to decision-making is because it fails to factor in the benefits to society (not to mention potential victims) of individuals having their inalienable right to be free from cruelty continue to be held inviolate. Properly conducted, a policy analysis of torture factors in not only the myriad national security and foreign policy consequences of torture, but also the costs of violating our laws, our nation’s moral principles and international human rights norms. Those who scoff at the consideration of our nation’s values in the evaluation of the decision to use torture not only engage in moral error, they disregard the underpinning function of these values to the constitutional and legal foundation of our nation. Torture violated our nation’s sense of right and wrong because it recklessly disregarded our founding concepts of inalienable rights and the inviolability of human dignity, principles that undergird much of our legal order. Furthermore, our use of torture failed to consider how deeply the norm against torture constrained our nation’s political, military, and legal operating environment overseas as we sought to wage the war on terror because the moral and legal principles associated with the norm had been so extensively embraced by other nations. Because none of our major allies proved willing to accommodate the U.S. desire to abandon these civilizational achievements, the U.S. war effort came to generate needless friction and opposition as other nations became more and more aware of our abusive practices. We also failed to consider the critical role that the prohibition against torture plays in the structure of domestic law, human rights, and international law, both being concrete achievements and structures that have served the interests of our nation much as they have served the interests of humanity. Countless individuals have been protected by these norms and rules; countless more would be harmed if these norms and rules were to be weakened or discarded. All of these are examples of the morally-grounded but nonetheless real policy costs of the use of torture.
The United States seeks to build a nation and world that is less cruel—not more cruel.
What Is the Harm?
The full range of the categories of harm and the data that would be considered in comprehensive assessment of the policy costs and consequences of U.S. torture represents a vast and complex research challenge. Despite the vast amount of legislative, journalistic, and investigative attention focused on the issue and the massive literature and commentary it has generated, much of the critical data is still inaccessible and likely to continue to be because of a variety of reasons, including document destruction, classification protocols, and the unwillingness of many key participants to cooperate with investigations. On some occasions, as was the case with Spain, for example, the U.S. government applied diplomatic pressure to seek to block local investigations, parliamentary inquiries, or litigation. How the Spanish government fully reacted to this pressure and what the internal consequences were is not fully known.
Still, despite these challenges, we know enough to postulate that the damage from the torture extended well beyond that inflicted on the individual victims—there was damage to our country and to our interests as well. Torture damaged and the legacy of torture continues to cause damage in three principal areas:
• Domestically, to our values, societal norms, laws and legal system, and to our governmental integrity;
• Internationally, to our standing abroad, to the architecture of international law and human rights, to many bilateral relationships, to the support for U.S. goals and policies in the fight against terrorism, and to the coherency of our foreign policy and our ability to achieve our foreign policy objectives;
• To our national security, by weakening our alliance structure, disrupting and reducing military and intelligence cooperation, producing adverse military impacts at the tactical, operational, and strategic levels, degrading U.S. military integrity and ethos, enhancing enemy propaganda, recruiting, and combat effectiveness, and contributing to U.S. combat deaths
Some of these categories of harm may have abated or even disappeared when the United States stopped practicing torture. But some have not. Among Muslim populations, the American abuse of its almost exclusively Muslim victims inflamed public opinion and facilitated recruitment into terrorist or insurgent units. Some of this resentment still exists. And, when the United States failed (and fails) to hold itself accountable for its acts of torture, failed to cooperate with foreign law enforcement, parliamentary, and judicial inquiries into U.S. acts of torture and acted to block the International Criminal Court from investigating specific acts of American torture, it signaled that it held itself above the law. That this signal also communicated that similar impunity may now also be available to other bad actors did not appear to factor in the U.S. policy calculation.
A Less Cruel World
Looking back, when President Bush and his administration colleagues considered whether to use torture as a weapon of war in the summer of 2002, they should have rejected the idea for any single one of three reasons:
First, because it was wrong: it is morally impermissible either for a nation or an individual to hurt a person;
Second, because it was illegal: the cruel treatment of a captive is categorically prohibited by U.S. and international law; and
Third, because it was counterproductive: the policy costs of the use of torture vastly and foreseeably outweigh any putative benefit.
But this was not how President Bush and his colleagues framed the issue in the heat of the moment or years later, when the fear in the immediate aftermath of 9/11 had passed and the costs of the torture program were more readily visible. Fear of individual legal accountability and of political backlash had the administration locked into its policy of defending what they had done, refusing to examine the consequences of its actions, and placing the personal interests of those individuals associated with the program above the national interest.
No, to determine the “merits” of the U.S. torture program, it is not simply enough to determine whether some questions were answered during interrogation. To evaluate the program properly, the totality of the effects and consequences of the program have to be identified and weighed, which, in the case of torture, were massive and adverse. And, in the end, the use of torture also has to be weighed in the context of two fundamental questions: “What are we trying to protect?” and “What is in the national interest?” The first question is answered by the response that in the defense of our country the United States seeks not only to protect lives, but also our values and freedoms. The second question is answered in turn by the answer that the United States seeks to build a nation and world that is less cruel—not more cruel.
For as long as the United States was a state sponsor of torture—as we were and some would still have us be—we acted directly contrary to these principles, and we paid a steep price.
As Albert Camus warned us, torture is just the kind of weapon that would destroy what we’re trying to protect since it is inherently inimical to our values and freedoms. So, too, torture’s sole contribution can only be towards a world that is more cruel, not less, and one that does not share the vision of the importance of human dignity and of individual rights protected by the rule of law. And to embrace torture would be to disregard John F. Kennedy’s wise counsel to his own and future generations as to what we stand for and how we act: “I believe in human dignity as the source of national purpose, in human liberty as the source of national action, in the human heart as the source of national compassion….” For as long as the United States was a state sponsor of torture—as we were and some would still have us be—we acted directly contrary to these principles, and we paid a steep price.