Since the release ten days ago of so called “torture memos” from the Department of Justice, the blogosphere has been abuzz with condemnation, excitement, and anticipation. Will CIA operatives under the Bush administration be prosecuted for greenlighting torture? Do the “enhanced interrogation techniques” described in the memos constitute torture in the first place? Can the United States finally move past this grisly period in our history in which we, according to Obama, lost “our moral bearings”?
First of all, I find the idea that the instances described in the torture memos constitute a loss of our moral bearings to be a bit laughable. Considering our history of genocide, slavery, segregation, internment, and a host of other ills conducted at home and abroad, it seems the United States is not recovering from a loss of moral bearings so much as a setback in the from-scratch construction of our moral compass in the first place.
That being said, I do rejoice in the transparency afforded by the release of the memos, and am heartened by the communal outrage that has been a result. There is little doubt that “enhanced interrogation” is torture, in the minds of the American people any way. And while I doubt that a majority of Americans realize that torture is forbidden in international law (meaning we are committing illegal acts by doing it) the general consensus is that torture does not align with American values.
In his 2002 memo to John Rizzo, former Assistant Attorney General Jay S. Bybee spends no time justifying the use of torture. Rather, he takes 18 pages to explain why the interrogation techniques used against Abu Zabaydah are not torture, and why they are necessary. Specifically he outlines ten different techniques, ranging from a facial slap to stress positions to waterboarding and argues in detail why each cannot be considered torture. I find the memo (available to read on the American Civil Liberties Union’s website) disturbing not just due to the techniques described, but the way in which Bybee argues for their use. What he does, in essence, is attempt to civilize an uncivilized thing.
Whatever the great strides achieved by humanity since the dawn of civilization close to 10,000 years ago, we continue to practice many crudely uncivilized things. The biggest of these is warfare, and the tools of war. While certainly not confined in use to war, torture is defined as the deliberate causation of physical or mental suffering to an individual, and in war in particular it is used as a means of soliciting information. But the problem with torture is that its very definition is inhumane. Regardless of motive, the deliberate causation of suffering to an individual is a violation of that individual’s human rights.
Bybee seems to understand this, and spends significant time in the memo arguing that the suffering endured by Zabaydah as a result of the techniques really isn’t that bad. The statute prohibiting torture in the United States defines torture as techniques which cause “severe physical or mental pain or suffering”. But who decides the definition of “severe”? Or for that matter, the definition of “suffering”? For his part, Bybee defines “severe physical pain” as that which is akin to pain felt from a major injury. And I would agree with him that none of the techniques in the memo is likely to inflict pain of that intensity.
But what about suffering? Certainly sleep deprivation, stress positions, confinement in small spaces, and waterboarding constitute suffering. What Bybee doesn’t seem to understand, or what he simply chooses not to acknowledge, is that the whole point of torture in this context is to get someone to talk who won’t do so willingly. Zabaydah proved himself to be resilient in standard question and answer sessions, so the interrogators decided to up the ante. And the only way to get someone to say something they don’t want to is to make it worth their while. Meaning, if you cause them enough discomfort (or suffering) they will say what you want to hear in order to make circumstances change.
My wording in the last sentence is deliberate. That is, I don’t believe torture is likely to produce any useful information, regardless of the ethical question. If suffering is great enough a person is likely to say anything just to get it to stop. But I don’t think we need to spend much time debating whether or not torture is effective, because it seems clear to me that its efficacy is a moot point.
Bybee takes pains to outline all the protective measures in place: presence of medical and mental health professionals, assurance that none of the techniques used would interfere with the healing of an injury Zabaydah sustained in capture. While he might have thought he was covering his bases, I think these admonitions confirm without a doubt that the actions described are unethical. The presence of doctors attests to the potentiality of the techniques to turn dangerous, and the participation of mental health professionals substantiates the claim that harsh interrogation can have adverse psychological effects.
To me, if a technique has the potential to become dangerous, it should not even be considered. The problem I think is that interrogation as a tool of war is part of a larger scheme of uncivilized practices we really should have outgrown by now. Does Zabaydah have information which could be useful to the United States? Of course he does. But the need to hold enemies prisoner (really, the whole concept of “enemies”) and interrogate them against their will points to an acute lack of human cooperation and belief in a common destiny.
In a way, humanity is like an adolescent. We have come far and grown much in our development, but we still have trouble rationalizing all of our choices or seeing our conflicts for what they are. Like teenagers, we are capable of both profound insights and dismal failures of judgment. But my hope is, like teenagers, we will with time grow to see the errors in our thinking and enter healthfully and happily into adulthood.