VV o n g B a
01-10-2003, 08:25 AM
http://www.economist.com/printedition/Prin...tory_ID=1524784 (http://www.economist.com/printedition/PrinterFriendly.cfm?Story_ID=1524784)
Is torture ever justified?
Jan 9th 2003
From The Economist print edition
Even faced with monstrous terrorism, democracies break the taboo at their peril
HOW can democratic governments best fight an enemy like al-Qaeda, whose operatives are encouraged to outdo each other in the barbarity of their attacks? In ways that uphold the values democracies stand for, is the answer one would like to give. Yet faced with the sort of threat al-Qaeda poses, this line is not always so easy to draw.
Western democracies have long upheld the international ban on torture, and have publicly criticised other governments that violate it. The Bush administration has lambasted the Iraqi regime for torturing its opponents and has issued reports about similar abuses in other countries. But in its efforts to defeat al-Qaeda, is the American government itself now quietly sanctioning the use of some forms of torture?
Ends and means
A detailed account of American interrogation methods appeared recently in the Washington Post. The article quoted American officials who describe beatings and the withholding of medical treatment, as well as “stress and duress” techniques, such as sleep deprivation, hooding, and forcing prisoners to hold awkward positions for hours. The officials also say they sent alleged terrorists and lists of questions to countries known for far harsher interrogation techniques.
Although well documented, the account has produced official denials and only a desultory discussion among American commentators, who seem no keener to discuss the subject than the British and French were when the issue arose in Northern Ireland and Algiers. This is understandable. But to evade the question is hypocritical and irresponsible. By speaking anonymously about their interrogation methods, the officials seem to be asking for help: how far should they go in trying to elicit information to stave off another large-scale terrorist attack? They deserve an answer.
One of the few commentators brave enough to take this question seriously has been Alan Dershowitz, a leading American criminal-defence lawyer. He poses the “ticking-bomb” scenario. Suppose you know that there is a bomb about to go off which could claim thousands of victims. You have good reason to believe that a prisoner knows where it is, and that torture may force him to tell. Would you allow him to be tortured? Most people, however reluctantly, answer “yes”.
After September 11th, this is no longer just a theoretical prospect. This week in London, anti-terrorist police arrested a group of men, possibly members or supporters of al-Qaeda, who had apparently been manufacturing ricin, a deadly toxin. If that is so, the authorities will want to know how much was made, where it now is, and who else was involved. Possibly, lives will depend on finding the answers. In circumstances such as those, one can readily imagine intelligence officers quietly saying, “If only we could really lean on these people.”
Mr Dershowitz argues that the new threats do justify a limited use of non-lethal torture in extreme cases, and proposes that judges be able to issue “torture warrants”. His solution is the wrong one. But he is right that the threat of more catastrophic terrorist attacks creates genuine dilemmas.
A first point is that the “ticking-bomb” scenario is not as clarifying as one would wish. If torture is to be allowed, then how much cruelty would be permitted? Would threats against the prisoner's family be all right? His neighbours? His country? Even the extreme circumstance of a “ticking-bomb” threat offers no clear guidance to how far you might go.
But the bigger problem is with Mr Dershowitz's solution. Even if you allow, as many will not, that torture might be justified under the most extreme circumstances, it would be difficult to confine its use to those very rare cases. Any system that allowed torture in tightly controlled situations would risk eroding into wider use. To legalise is to encourage. Israel tried to limit use of physical coercion to extreme cases, but its security forces have ended up using such methods far more widely than was initially foreseen.
If America were to sanction torture, to begin with in extremely rare cases, there might be some immediate gains in security. Much as one would like to believe that torture never succeeds in extracting vital information, history says otherwise. But, for the democratic West, any such gains would be outweighed by greater harm. The prohibition against torture expresses one of the West's most powerful taboos—and some taboos (like that against the use of nuclear weapons) are worth preserving even at heavy cost. Though many authoritarian regimes use torture, not one of even these openly admits it. A decision by the United States to employ some forms of torture, no matter how limited the circumstances, would shatter the taboo. The morale of the West in what may be a long war against terrorism would be gravely set back: to stay strong, the liberal democracies need to be certain that they are better than their enemies.
George Bush has said that the fight against al-Qaeda is a battle for hearts and minds, not just a matter of military power. Though critics focus on his sabre-rattling, Mr Bush has been consistent in his claims to be defending human rights and democracy, and he has persisted in reaching out to Muslims, though he rarely gets credit for this. To keep the moral high ground, he needs to bolster public disavowals of torture by specifying the methods American interrogators can employ, by enforcing the limits, and by desisting from handing prisoners over to less scrupulous allies.
Choosing sides
There is room for discussion about what the limits should be. Given the gravity of the terrorist threat, vigorous questioning short of torture—prolonged interrogations, mild sleep deprivation, perhaps the use of truth serum—might be justified in some cases. Such tactics have ambiguous standing in international law. Some are occasionally employed against ordinary criminals. But there is a line which democracies cross at their peril: threatening or inflicting actual bodily harm. On one side of that line stand societies sure of their civilised values. That is the side America and its allies must choose.
Is torture ever justified?
Jan 9th 2003
From The Economist print edition
Even faced with monstrous terrorism, democracies break the taboo at their peril
HOW can democratic governments best fight an enemy like al-Qaeda, whose operatives are encouraged to outdo each other in the barbarity of their attacks? In ways that uphold the values democracies stand for, is the answer one would like to give. Yet faced with the sort of threat al-Qaeda poses, this line is not always so easy to draw.
Western democracies have long upheld the international ban on torture, and have publicly criticised other governments that violate it. The Bush administration has lambasted the Iraqi regime for torturing its opponents and has issued reports about similar abuses in other countries. But in its efforts to defeat al-Qaeda, is the American government itself now quietly sanctioning the use of some forms of torture?
Ends and means
A detailed account of American interrogation methods appeared recently in the Washington Post. The article quoted American officials who describe beatings and the withholding of medical treatment, as well as “stress and duress” techniques, such as sleep deprivation, hooding, and forcing prisoners to hold awkward positions for hours. The officials also say they sent alleged terrorists and lists of questions to countries known for far harsher interrogation techniques.
Although well documented, the account has produced official denials and only a desultory discussion among American commentators, who seem no keener to discuss the subject than the British and French were when the issue arose in Northern Ireland and Algiers. This is understandable. But to evade the question is hypocritical and irresponsible. By speaking anonymously about their interrogation methods, the officials seem to be asking for help: how far should they go in trying to elicit information to stave off another large-scale terrorist attack? They deserve an answer.
One of the few commentators brave enough to take this question seriously has been Alan Dershowitz, a leading American criminal-defence lawyer. He poses the “ticking-bomb” scenario. Suppose you know that there is a bomb about to go off which could claim thousands of victims. You have good reason to believe that a prisoner knows where it is, and that torture may force him to tell. Would you allow him to be tortured? Most people, however reluctantly, answer “yes”.
After September 11th, this is no longer just a theoretical prospect. This week in London, anti-terrorist police arrested a group of men, possibly members or supporters of al-Qaeda, who had apparently been manufacturing ricin, a deadly toxin. If that is so, the authorities will want to know how much was made, where it now is, and who else was involved. Possibly, lives will depend on finding the answers. In circumstances such as those, one can readily imagine intelligence officers quietly saying, “If only we could really lean on these people.”
Mr Dershowitz argues that the new threats do justify a limited use of non-lethal torture in extreme cases, and proposes that judges be able to issue “torture warrants”. His solution is the wrong one. But he is right that the threat of more catastrophic terrorist attacks creates genuine dilemmas.
A first point is that the “ticking-bomb” scenario is not as clarifying as one would wish. If torture is to be allowed, then how much cruelty would be permitted? Would threats against the prisoner's family be all right? His neighbours? His country? Even the extreme circumstance of a “ticking-bomb” threat offers no clear guidance to how far you might go.
But the bigger problem is with Mr Dershowitz's solution. Even if you allow, as many will not, that torture might be justified under the most extreme circumstances, it would be difficult to confine its use to those very rare cases. Any system that allowed torture in tightly controlled situations would risk eroding into wider use. To legalise is to encourage. Israel tried to limit use of physical coercion to extreme cases, but its security forces have ended up using such methods far more widely than was initially foreseen.
If America were to sanction torture, to begin with in extremely rare cases, there might be some immediate gains in security. Much as one would like to believe that torture never succeeds in extracting vital information, history says otherwise. But, for the democratic West, any such gains would be outweighed by greater harm. The prohibition against torture expresses one of the West's most powerful taboos—and some taboos (like that against the use of nuclear weapons) are worth preserving even at heavy cost. Though many authoritarian regimes use torture, not one of even these openly admits it. A decision by the United States to employ some forms of torture, no matter how limited the circumstances, would shatter the taboo. The morale of the West in what may be a long war against terrorism would be gravely set back: to stay strong, the liberal democracies need to be certain that they are better than their enemies.
George Bush has said that the fight against al-Qaeda is a battle for hearts and minds, not just a matter of military power. Though critics focus on his sabre-rattling, Mr Bush has been consistent in his claims to be defending human rights and democracy, and he has persisted in reaching out to Muslims, though he rarely gets credit for this. To keep the moral high ground, he needs to bolster public disavowals of torture by specifying the methods American interrogators can employ, by enforcing the limits, and by desisting from handing prisoners over to less scrupulous allies.
Choosing sides
There is room for discussion about what the limits should be. Given the gravity of the terrorist threat, vigorous questioning short of torture—prolonged interrogations, mild sleep deprivation, perhaps the use of truth serum—might be justified in some cases. Such tactics have ambiguous standing in international law. Some are occasionally employed against ordinary criminals. But there is a line which democracies cross at their peril: threatening or inflicting actual bodily harm. On one side of that line stand societies sure of their civilised values. That is the side America and its allies must choose.