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Monday, Nov 9, 2009
Cloaked in myopic self-righteousness, the Bush administration is trying to make its gulag problem disappear by attacking Amnesty International. This isn't just blind and arrogant, it's harming the national interest.
Jun 1, 2005 | President Bush's press conference on Tuesday, at which he denounced Amnesty International's annual report containing allegations of torture by the United States as "absurd" and dismissed all such allegations as inspired by terrorists, was the crescendo of a concerted administration campaign to stifle the rising clamor on its torture policy.
Amnesty International released its report on human rights on May 25. Among other findings, it documents that some 500 detainees are being held at the Guantánamo military base. The Supreme Court ruled six months ago in Rasul vs. Bush that they are entitled to legal counsel and due process, but Amnesty noted that the detainees have not been provided with lawyers in secret administrative reviews to determine if they are "enemy combatants." And the more than 50,000 detainees being held in 25 prisons in Afghanistan and 17 prisons in Iraq are "routinely denied access to lawyers and families." An unknown number of people have disappeared into secret prisons -- having been "rendered" to U.S. allies like Uzbekistan, where torture is routine. The Amnesty report called this shrouded network "the gulag of our time," and concluded that the administration's methods are counterproductive: "The 'war on terror' appeared more effective in eroding international human rights principles than in countering international 'terrorism.'"
The Amnesty report followed on the heels of the Bush administration's blame casting at Newsweek magazine for provoking anti-American riots in Afghanistan that resulted in 17 deaths by its publication of a story that a Quran had been flushed down a toilet at Guantánamo. After the anonymous Pentagon source for the item hesitated about his certainty, the Defense Department, through its spokesman, Lawrence Di Rita, demanded that Newsweek apologize, and editor Mark Whitaker abased himself elaborately for its error. But a week afterward the Pentagon disclosed that there had indeed been five incidents involving abuse of the Quran, though not a toilet flushing. (Some further clarification may be helpful on this fine point: As it happens, the detainees don't have flush toilets but buckets.) At a press conference on the same day the Amnesty report was issued, Di Rita was asked, in light of the acknowledged Quran abuses and the apology he had insisted that Newsweek make, "Mr. Di Rita, as the Department of Defense, are you going to present your apologies to the Arab world?" Di Rita replied: "For what?"
A day later, on May 26, in a suit brought by the American Civil Liberties Union seeking information about detainees, federal District Court Judge Alvin Hellerstein ruled that 144 photographs of abuse at Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq must be publicly released. The judge stated that the "photographs present a different level of detail and are the best evidence the public can have of what occurred."
Immediately, the Bush administration launched a ferocious counteroffensive to obscure any debate about its torture policy, discrediting Amnesty's report, which was largely based on previously released official documents. The seriousness with which the administration regards the torture issue -- as a political matter -- was reflected by the senior level of the deniers. Now, the questions were not left to the likes of press secretaries Di Rita or Scott McClellan. All the voices sang in a choir from a common book of talking points. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice hit Amnesty's report as "absurd." Joint Chiefs of Staff chairman Gen. Richard Myers called the report "absolutely irresponsible." And Vice President Cheney took umbrage at the insult: "Frankly, I was offended by it. For Amnesty International to suggest that somehow the United States is a violator of human rights, I frankly just don't take them seriously." He added that the "allegations of mistreatments" came from "somebody who had been inside and released to their home country and now are peddling lies."
The Wurlitzer of the conservative media was playing from the same songbook, but in a higher octave. On May 27, before the administration heavyweights made their statements, the Wall Street Journal's editorial page declared that the human rights report is "one more sign of the moral degradation of Amnesty International," which it labeled a "highly politicized pressure group" whose reports "amount to pro-al Qaeda propaganda."
The National Review chimed in with an article titled "Amnesty Unbelievable," charging that Amnesty's report "says much more about the nature of Amnesty International -- and the agenda of similar left-wing non-governmental organizations -- than it does about the human-rights record of the United States."
By the moment of Bush's press conference, every nuance of his response on the issue had been carefully configured and rehearsed by Cheney, Rice, Myers et al. "I'm aware of the Amnesty International report, and it's absurd," the president began. Then he repeated himself: "It's an absurd allegation." The country, he declared, is virtuous, and therefore, he suggested, his motives must be innocent. "The United States is a country that is -- promotes freedom around the world." Under him, the rule of law prevails: "When there's accusations made about certain actions by our people, they're fully investigated in a transparent way."
Bush repeated himself again: "It's just an absurd allegation." Once again, he claimed nothing had gone amiss. "In terms of the detainees, we've had thousands of people detained. We've investigated every single complaint against the detainees." Every complaint, he assured his audience, was false because the motives of the detainees are as evil as his are pure: "It seemed like to me they based some of their decisions on the word of -- and the allegations by -- people who were held in detention, people who hate America." Here, Bush turned lexicographer: "people that had been trained in some instances to disassemble -- that means not tell the truth." In conclusion he banged again on his drum: "And so it was an absurd report. It just is."
