REVIEW & OUTLOOK
Tortuous Progress
A little honesty in the interrogation debate.
It's coming late in the game, but a little honesty has finally crept into the debate over interrogation in the war on terror. To wit, the critics are at last having to explain what they really object to, as opposed to their typically vague and inaccurate accusations of "torture."
Credit here goes to Vice President Dick Cheney and a few media dissenters, who have insisted that the critics confront the practical and moral realities of fighting terrorism. Specifically, they (and we) have opposed Senator John McCain's Amendment that would establish the Army Field Manual as the standard for Defense Department interrogations and otherwise (that is, for the CIA) reinforce prohibitions on "cruel, inhuman and degrading" treatment. Everyone understands that this would effectively forbid some interrogation methods now being used, at least by the CIA.
Mr. Cheney's stand is smoking out the critics, who for months have hid behind incantations first about Abu Ghraib, which numerous probes have proved had nothing to do with interrogations, and then the so-called "torture memos," which sanctioned no specific interrogation techniques. So congratulations of a sort to the Washington Post, perhaps the most vociferous promoter of the "torture narrative," for finally admitting in a Sunday editorial what so offends its editors.
It turns out to be "waterboarding," a rare interrogation technique reportedly used against the hardest al Qaeda detainees. The method involves immobilizing a detainee and inducing a feeling of suffocation. The Post says it should be banned both as torture and contrary to the U.S. Constitution. That's certainly worth debating, though the Post may get an argument from U.S. servicemen who've endured the waterboard as part of training to resist interrogation--proof that, if practiced properly, it does no lasting physical harm.
There's also last week's ABC News report that 11 of 12 captured al Qaeda kingpins who have talked only did so after being waterboarded. This would appear to contradict so many glib suggestions, such as those in an open letter yesterday from Congressmen calling themselves the New Democrat Coalition, that such techniques "just plain don't work." The truth is that sometimes they do work.
But let's say waterboarding were banned. The critics are still conveniently vague about just what interrogation techniques they would allow. The Post frowns on "other CIA pressure methods." Well, what are they? Sleep deprivation? Exposure to hot and cold? Stress techniques such as kneeling for a long time? Or how about good cop-bad cop interrogation of the kind practiced in the average American police precinct? That can certainly be "degrading" and "cruel" if you interpret those words in the most expansive manner.
Part of the problem with interpreting those words is that they depend on the context. All things being equal, we can't think of a worse human rights abuse than blowing someone to bits with a Hellfire missile. Yet no one objected when that happened to al Qaeda leader Hamza Rabia in Pakistan two weeks ago. If certain individuals can be ethically targeted for death in a war, then wouldn't the same hold true for rough interrogation methods? A strange code of morality would allow the killing of Rabia but not his stressful questioning to prevent further murders he might plan against innocent civilians.
Some of the more sophisticated critics recognize this, as well as the possibility of "ticking bomb" scenarios. That includes Senator McCain, who has written in Newsweek that on occasion "an interrogator might well try extreme measures." But he opposes writing any guidance into law or regulation--the way the Bush Administration has done--suggesting instead that the interrogator should go ahead and do what he thinks is needed and then depend on "authorities and the public" to "take [context] into account when judging his actions."
In other words, Mr. McCain admits that what lies at the heart of his Amendment is moral hypocrisy: We're supposed to ban rugged interrogation in general to make us feel better about ourselves, but only until such interrogation is required; then do whatever it takes. We prefer the Bush Administration's candor in approving certain practices in certain cases--all the more so because, in the real world, bureaucratic and political imperatives will almost certainly put an end to all such methods if the McCain Amendment becomes law.
And don't forget "rendition"--the turning over of captured terrorists--to the likes of Egypt or Syria, the practice favored by the Clinton Administration because it lacked the nerve to handle captured terrorists outside the criminal justice system. We trust the CIA more than Egyptian intelligence, but where are the "torture" critics on the morality of this practice? The truth is that if the McCain Amendment passes, rendition will almost certainly increase. Perhaps this will be the next liberal target, until every al Qaeda detainee is treated no differently than a common thief.
We realize that our views on this subject won't carry the day, at least not until the U.S. suffers a more serious attack. The Bush Administration is already backing down from Mr. Cheney's earlier position, holding out in this week's negotiations on the McCain Amendment only for immunity for the past actions of U.S. interrogators. We still wish the President would take his case to the public, and perhaps even request hearings next year on Capitol Hill, because Americans are more sophisticated about the reality of what it takes to break these terrorists than are most journalists.
But at least the Administration has been willing to admit that protecting Americans takes more than denouncing "torture" at the top of one's lungs. Once the McCain Amendment becomes law, perhaps the torture moralists will continue their creeping honesty and let us know what U.S. interrogators can do to break the next Khalid Sheikh Mohammed.
