from the July 18, 2005 issue
of The Nation
Although the terrible revelations of torture at Abu Ghraib hit the front
pages in April 2004, no senior officials in the US military or the Bush
Administration have yet been held accountable. The scandal has shamed
and outraged many Americans, in addition to creating a greater
threat of terrorism against the United States. But it has prompted no
investigative commission (in the manner of the 9/11 commission) with a
mandate to find the whole truth, or full-scale bipartisan
Congressional hearings, as occurred during Watergate. Indeed,
it is as though the Watergate investigations ended with the prosecution
of only the burglars, which is what the cover-up was designed to insure,
instead of reaching into the highest levels of government, which is what
ultimately happened.
In just the latest sign of the current Administration's
nose-thumbing at accountability for higher-ups, Lieut. Gen. Ricardo
Sanchez, the commander in Iraq when the Abu Ghraib abuses occurred, is
reportedly under consideration for promotion.
Nonetheless, higher-ups can be held to account. Difficult as it may be
to achieve, our institutions of government can be pressured to do the
right thing. If the public and the media insist on thorough
investigations and appropriate punishments for those implicated--all the
way up the chain of command--they can prevail.
Several episodes from recent history illustrate how public
opposition can change even the most entrenched
government policy. Neither President Johnson nor President Nixon wanted
to withdraw from Vietnam, but growing public anger forced Congress,
finally, to end the war. Likewise, in Watergate, Congress did not
commence impeachment proceedings to hold President Nixon accountable for
his abuse of power until the American people demanded action after the
Saturday Night Massacre (in which Nixon ordered the firing of Special
Prosecutor Archibald Cox to keep him from getting incriminating
personal tape recordings). And, of course, the most important example
from the past fifty years is the civil rights movement, which brought
down the system of segregation in the South through sustained and
peaceful public protest.
The War Crimes Act of 1996
No less a figure than Alberto Gonzales, then-White House counsel to
George W. Bush and now US Attorney General, expressed deep concern about
possible prosecutions under the War Crimes Act of 1996 for American
mistreatment of Afghanistan war detainees.
This relatively obscure statute makes it a federal crime to violate
certain provisions of the Geneva Conventions. The Act punishes any US
national, military or civilian, who commits a "grave breach" of the
Geneva Conventions. A grave breach, as defined by the Geneva
Conventions, includes the deliberate "killing, torture or inhuman
treatment" of detainees. Violations of the War Crimes Act that result in
death carry the death penalty.
In a memo to President Bush, dated January 25, 2002, Gonzales urged that
the United States opt out of the Geneva Conventions for the Afghanistan
war--despite Secretary of State Colin Powell's objections. One of the
two reasons he gave the President was that opting out "substantially
reduces the likelihood of prosecution under the War Crimes Act."
Then-Attorney General Ashcroft sent a memo to President Bush making a
similar argument. Opting out of the Geneva Conventions, Ashcroft argued,
would give the "highest assurance" that there would be no prosecutions
under the War Crimes Act of "military officers, intelligence officials,
or law enforcement officials" for their misconduct during interrogations
or detention.
Plainly, both Gonzales and Ashcroft were so concerned about preventing
War Crimes Act prosecutions that they were willing to assume the
risks--including the likelihood of severe international criticism as
well as the exposure of our own captured troops to mistreatment--of
opting out of Geneva.
The specter of prosecution was particularly worrisome because
the Conventions use broad terminology. Noting that violations may
consist of "outrages upon personal dignity" and "inhuman treatment,"
Gonzales advised the President in his memo that it would be "difficult
to predict with confidence" which actions would violate the War Crimes
Act and which would not.
Moreover, Gonzales opined, it was "difficult to predict the motives of
prosecutors and independent counsels" acting in the future. (The
"future" could be a very long time indeed, because there would be no
statute of limitations on War Crimes Act prosecutions in cases where the
victim died.)
Although Gonzales did not spell out which government officials he
was concerned about, his reference to "independent counsels" suggests
that he had in mind people at the highest levels. In the past,
independent counsels--or special prosecutors, as they were previously
called--had been appointed to investigate both President Nixon and
President Clinton. The independent counsel statute (now expired) applied
to Presidents and top officials.
President Bush followed the advice given by his White House counsel and
his Attorney General with some slight modifications. It remains to be
seen whether the gimmick of "opting out" of the Geneva Conventions for
the war in Afghanistan will provide Gonzales's promised "solid defense"
to any War Crimes Act prosecution.
Prosecuting US Misconduct in Iraq
Whatever its applicability to Afghanistan, the War Crimes Act is
unquestionably applicable to detainee abuse in Iraq. Under Gonzales's
logic, the War Crimes Act applies whenever Geneva applies. And as
President Bush repeatedly stated, the Geneva Conventions apply to Iraq
(although he has since claimed that foreign fighters captured in Iraq
are not covered by Geneva). Thus, US personnel found guilty of serious
mistreatment of detainees in Iraq face severe criminal penalties under
the Act.
Prosecutions under the War Crimes Act for violations in Iraq do not need
to challenge the legality of "opting out of the Geneva Conventions," as
would be the case for Afghanistan war detainees. Nor do they need to
contend with the Administration's convoluted definition of torture. War
Crimes Act violations in Iraq can consist of inhuman treatment
alone--whether torture took place or not.
Although the term "inhuman treatment" is not defined in the War Crimes
Act or in the Geneva Conventions, there is little doubt that US
personnel subjected Iraqi detainees to inhuman treatment by, for
example, forcing hooded prisoners into stressful positions for lengthy
periods of time, using dogs to bite and intimidate naked prisoners,
compelling prisoners to engage in or simulate sexual acts, dragging
naked prisoners on the ground with a leash around the neck, beating
prisoners, and on and on.
Even beyond the notorious Abu Ghraib photos, there is a huge body of
evidence documenting inhuman treatment. Maj. Gen. Antonio Taguba's
inquiry found "sadistic, blatant and wanton criminal abuses." The report
issued by a panel headed by former Defense Secretary James Schlesinger
found "widespread" abuses. And the International Red Cross repeatedly
protested the treatment of Iraqi prisoners.
The key question is not whether detainees in Iraq were subjected to
inhuman treatment in violation of the War Crimes Act, but how high up
the responsibility goes for those abhorrent acts. Under well-established
principles of international law, officials in the chain of command who
order inhuman treatment or who, knowing about it, fail to stop it are
responsible. The "chain of command" doctrine is undoubtedly applicable
to War Crimes Act prosecutions. But even if it weren't, higher-ups could
be held responsible under the principles of conspiracy or aiding and
abetting the crime under normal federal criminal law. This was surely
the reason that Gonzales wanted to block future prosecutions of
higher-ups by "prosecutors and independent counsels."
President Bush likes to blame a few "bad apples" for the serious
mistreatment of Iraqi prisoners. But the problem is not limited to a few
bad apples at the bottom of the barrel. We know that General Sanchez,
then the top military officer in Iraq, ordered harsh interrogation
techniques, at least for a brief period, before he revised the
protocols. Defense Secretary Rumsfeld similarly issued orders permitting
coercive interrogation, which were modified after protest by military
lawyers. Did Rumsfeld and General Sanchez violate the War Crimes Act?
And what about President Bush himself? At a Congressional hearing
shortly after the Abu Ghraib story broke, then-Attorney General Ashcroft
testified that Bush never ordered the torture of Afghanistan and Iraq
war detainees. But he refused to describe what the President did order,
and all presidential directives on interrogations have not been
made public.
In making his claim, the Attorney General may have been using the now
discarded Orwellian definition of torture that the Justice Department
devised specifically to avoid prosecutions under the US statute making
it a crime to engage in torture (Sections 2340-2340A of the US Code,
Title 18). Under Justice's definition, torture was not torture if the
torturer was simply seeking information from the victim. Only gratuitous
or purely sadistic torture qualified as torture. Moreover, to meet the
definition, the pain caused had to be the equivalent of losing an organ
or bodily function, or dying. It is very unlikely that the President or
any high-level US official ordered torture for torture's sake, so
Ashcroft's testimony to that extent may have been perfectly truthful.
(That definition of torture was formally abandoned just before
Gonzales's confirmation hearings.)
Moreover, there are tantalizing suggestions that Bush may have condoned
or possibly authorized coercive interrogation techniques. For example, a
May 22, 2004, FBI agent's memo about interrogations in Iraq, made public
under the Freedom of Information Act, repeatedly cites an executive
order issued by President Bush that authorized "sleep deprivation,
stress positions, loud music, etc." (The administration denied this and
the FBI refused to comment.)
In addition, President Bush's oft-quoted executive order of February 7,
2002, calling for detainees to be treated humanely, by its very terms
does not apply to the CIA. That leaves open the question of what
standards of interrogation the President laid out for the CIA and
whether his failure to impose the requirement of humane
treatment on the CIA signaled permission for that agency to engage in
torture or inhuman treatment of detainees. The possibility that the CIA
engaged in torture or inhuman treatment of detainees was given greater
substance when CIA director Porter Goss testified in March that the CIA
was not at that time using torture against detainees but refused to
testify about past practices except behind closed doors. (It was also
given further substance by reports that some CIA personnel were dismayed
at the Administration's change in the torture definition, since they may
be exposed as a result to liability under the anti-torture act.)
To resolve the question, then, of the responsibility of higher-ups for
torture and inhuman treatment in Iraq, there needs to be full disclosure
of directives issued by President Bush and other top officials on the
treatment of detainees and a full inquiry into what they knew about the
serious mistreatment of detainees and what steps they took to stop the
mistreatment once it came to their attention.
If the President did authorize inhuman treatment--or, knowing that such
treatment was ongoing, failed to stop it--is he punishable under the War
Crimes Act? White House counsel Gonzales did not specify any limits on
who might be subject to prosecution in his January 2002 memo. And
Attorney General Ashcroft in his Congressional testimony specifically
denied that President Bush committed any crime. In making that
statement, the Attorney General may have been relying on a doctrine
advanced in the Justice Department's August 2002 torture definition
memorandum, which argued that, under the Constitution, a Commander in
Chief's capacity to conduct a military campaign cannot be constrained by
US laws. In other words, as a law unto himself, the President cannot
violate laws, because he doesn't have to obey them. During his
confirmation hearings to replace Attorney General Ashcroft, Gonzales was
repeatedly asked to repudiate the position that a President has the
right as Commander in Chief to break US laws, but refused to do so.
The claim that a President, whether Bush or any other President, is
above the law strikes at the very heart of our democracy. It was the
centerpiece of President Nixon's defense in Watergate--one that was
rejected by the courts and lay at the foundation of the articles of
impeachment voted against him by the House Judiciary Committee.
Of course, President Nixon's national security claims in Watergate
were entirely bogus. Breaking into a psychiatrist's office and
wiretapping journalists and White House staff phones had nothing to do
with national security; they were blatantly political efforts to get
damaging information on electoral opponents. And getting the CIA to stop
the FBI's investigation into campaign funds was purely an obstruction of
justice.
Courts have not directly ruled on a President's powers to violate the US
anti-torture statute or the War Crimes Act. But they have found limits
on a President's claims of unchecked power as Commander in Chief. The
Supreme Court rejected President Truman's contention that as Commander
in Chief he could seize steel mills during the Korean War to keep them
running. Similarly, the Supreme Court repudiated President Bush's claim
that as Commander in Chief he had unlimited powers to incarcerate
prisoners at Guantánamo. As Justice Sandra Day O'Connor stated,
"A state of war is not a blank check for the President."
Holding Senior Officials Accountable
It is never easy to hold powerful officials accountable for their
misdeeds, but it is still important to try to do so. Even if no
higher-ups turn out to be responsible under civil or criminal laws for
the terrible abuses at Abu Ghraib and elsewhere, the mere fact of a
thorough and serious inquiry could go a long way toward preventing
similar abuses in the future.
If Watergate is any example, accountability at the highest level
requires a number of factors: public exposure of the misdeeds; public
awareness that the misdeeds violate the law; independent and fearless
public officials, prosecutors and judges; and of course a crusading
press.
The press plays a key role in educating public officials and the
American people about a problem, and focusing attention on it. In
Watergate, it was the work of the press, and in particular the
persistence of two enterprising young Washington Post reporters, Bob
Woodward and Carl Bernstein, that laid the groundwork for Nixon's
resignation.
While the press did a generally excellent job in breaking the Abu Ghraib
story and in educating the American public about the brutal mistreatment
of prisoners there and elsewhere, it has largely neglected the question
of high-level accountability for those acts.
Consider the coverage of Gonzales's January 2002 memo to President Bush.
The media gave substantial play to his recommendation that the United
States opt out of the Geneva Conventions. Most reporters focused on his
first reason for doing so--that certain provisions of the Conventions
were "quaint" and inapplicable to the "new" paradigm of
twenty-first-century terrorism. But the press did not pay nearly as much
attention to Gonzales's second reason--that opting out would reduce the
possibility of War Crimes Act prosecutions. As a result, the American
people remained largely in the dark about the War Crimes Act. They
generally did not know that the act made it a federal crime to engage in
inhuman treatment of detainees, or that the act applied to Iraq. They
did not know that by recommending that America opt out of Geneva, the
White House counsel--and the President, apparently, through his
approval--was trying to create a legal loophole that would permit US
government personnel to engage in possible criminal behavior with
impunity. It was entirely predictable, under these circumstances,
that there would be no public outcry about violations of the War Crimes
Act or a broad demand for accountability of higher-ups under it.
It is also not surprising, in this atmosphere, that little attention was
paid to the War Crimes Act during Gonzales's Attorney General
confirmation hearings. It would have been easy to ask Gonzales what
actions by US officials gave rise to his concern about possible
prosecution under the War Crimes Act. It would also have been easy to
ask what US officials he was worried could be prosecuted. But for some
reason, the press never did, and the Senate showed a lack of curiosity
about the subject.
Questions about the War Crimes Act would have been particularly apt
because, as Attorney General, Gonzales might have to prosecute
violations of the act--and his role in trying to shield government
officials from prosecution under the act could raise issues of conflict
of interest.
If this issue were seriously covered by the press, and the public began
to express concern about it, Congress would be much more likely to
initiate efforts to investigate and hold higher-ups accountable.
Options for Congressional Action
What actions could Congress take? Given that the President's party
controls both the House and the Senate, it is unlikely that
any serious action will be taken by either Congressional body to uncover
wrongdoing by higher-ups in the mistreatment of US detainees.
Nonetheless, it is important to understand what needs to be done.
The best outcome would be to have full Congressional hearings (such as
the Senate Watergate hearings) or a fully independent inquiry
conducted by a commission such as the 9/11 panel. It is significant that
some Republicans and Democrats are finally calling for the creation of
such a commission. That commission should have the power to seek all
documents (including presidential documents) respecting the treatment of
detainees, and to question higher-ups, including Secretary Rumsfeld and
the President himself. The objective of the inquiry would be to see who,
including those at the highest level of our government, directed the
inhuman treatment or torture of detainees, and what those officials did,
if anything, when they learned of the mistreatment. If the inquiry finds
that the President or Secretary of Defense (or other high-level
government officials) directed or knowingly condoned the inhuman
treatment or torture of US detainees, then a special prosecutor should
be appointed, with guarantees of full independence, to determine whether
there is any criminal liability under the War Crimes Act (and the US
anti-torture statute) or any other applicable criminal statutes. Unlike
Kenneth Starr, the special prosecutor should have no political ties to
the Administration or its political opponents.
Short of that result, there is still much that public officials can do.
Members of Congress and the Senate could write and ask Gonzales to
identify which persons he was trying to protect from prosecution--and
what acts they engaged in or were expected to engage in--as referred to
in his January 25, 2002, memo to President Bush. They could ask the
White House for all orders and directives issued by the President with
respect to the treatment of detainees, at Abu Ghraib or elsewhere. They
could request all documents that would have alerted the President
and other top officials to the conditions of interrogation and documents
that would have reflected oral briefings of top officials about these
conditions. Legislation could be introduced requiring the disclosure of
this information, if it is not otherwise forthcoming.
Even if the President's party blocks hearings, refuses to issue
subpoenas for documents showing the involvement of higher-ups in the
inhuman treatment of US detainees or stymies other legislative
approaches to get at the full truth, members of Congress can still act
on the problem. They can still raise public awareness of the need for
full disclosure and increase public pressure for action by
introducing bills, holding press conferences, writing letters to
appropriate officials, asking questions at hearings and so forth.
In addition, there are other legislative steps to consider that cannot
be blocked by a partisan majority. Take, for example, an obscure
parliamentary device that allows members of the House of Representatives
to pose factual questions to the President or members of his Cabinet.
The resolution is privileged, which means that any Congressperson
introducing it may call it up for a vote on the House floor at any
time--something that is not normally the case for other resolutions and
bills--and control half of the one hour of debate permitted. (A
Resolution of Inquiry was used to force the House inquiry into President
Ford's pardon of Richard Nixon.) While the resolution seeking the
information may be defeated or referred to a committee (and thus
consigned to oblivion), the debate on the floor of the House could
generate substantial publicity and could create additional momentum for
investigation or disclosure.
If General Sanchez is nominated for a promotion, since that requires
Senate confirmation, the Senate could seek all documents and other
information about his responsibility for the horrors of Abu Ghraib as
well as about the directives he received from his superiors on
abusive interrogations. If Attorney General Alberto Gonzales appears at
any future hearings, such as hearings involving funding for the Justice
Department, or if he is nominated for any other position in government,
questions about criminal liability under the War Crimes Act could be
raised at that time. Similarly, if there is a vacancy in the position of
Attorney General and someone else is appointed, that person, as a
condition of confirmation, could be asked to conduct a full
investigation into criminal liability under the War Crimes Act.
In this respect, Watergate provides some guidance. Special Prosecutor
Archibald Cox was appointed only because of a series of happenstances.
Prior to his appointment, the possibility had surfaced that higher-ups
might be involved in the Watergate break-in and cover-up. As luck would
have it, there was a vacancy in the position of Attorney General. Both
Attorneys General John Mitchell and Richard Kleindienst had resigned,
the latter because of his connection to the Watergate scandal. When
President Nixon nominated Elliot Richardson to fill the vacancy, the
Senate refused to confirm him unless he agreed to appoint a special
prosecutor with full independence. Richardson complied. In that case,
Senators knew there had to be a thorough criminal investigation into
Watergate and used the leverage of the Senate confirmation hearings to
get their way. That is a far cry from what occurred during the process
of confirming Gonzales for Attorney General--even making allowances for
the fact that the President's party controlled the Senate.
Still, calls for the Attorney General to appoint a special prosecutor to
investigate possible criminal liability under the war crimes and
anti-torture laws can be issued, and members of Congress and the Senate
can press for it.
In the final analysis, there is no sure way to compel the government to
investigate itself or to hold high-level government officials
accountable under applicable criminal statutes. But if the public does
not seek to have it happen, it will not happen. Those in the public who
care deeply about the rule of law and government accountability must
keep this issue alive. Failure to investigate wrongdoing in high places
and tolerating misconduct or criminality can have only the most
corroding impact on our democracy and the rule of law that sustains us.
Attorney Elizabeth Holtzman served four terms in Congress, where she played a key role in House impeachment proceedings against President Richard Nixon.
© 2005 The Nation
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