|
|
The Sixth Anniversary of Guantanamo: Democracy, Human Rights, and Passivity |
|
|
In the long nightmare of the twentieth century, humanity discovered that the social contract did not save us from governments who murdered, kidnapped, and tortured their citizens. Shaken by tragedies, the international community moved from the social contract to a higher, better principle: you do not “earn” rights by giving up your animal desires to live in society; rather, you have rights simply because you are a human being.
In a twenty-first century democracy, we should strive to make the dream of human rights a reality for all. Why then have we as Americans tolerated the disgraceful existence of the prison at Guantanamo Bay for six long years?
We look the other way because we are ashamed. But we make our shame more palatable by choking down two lies: firstly, that terrorism is an act of war, not crime; and secondly, that in a time of war the government can shred normal standards of legal procedure in the interest of national security.
Yet the attacks of September 11th were crimes, not acts of war. Al Qaeda has neither an army nor a nation to sponsor it. Al Qaeda is a pathetic band of criminals, yet even the most heinous criminals deserve just legal treatment. Even if America faced coordinated military acts on our soil by a foreign army, we would need to maintain the highest standard of legal rights and process for both citizens and foreign prisoners. The metaphorical “War on Terror,” in which the United States itself launched two disastrous physical wars in response to a single criminal conspiracy, offers no compelling reason to abandon what should be America’s absolute commitment to human rights.
Psychologically, we may spare ourselves some guilt by refusing to admit what happens at Guantanamo. But we tolerate its existence at our own peril. Make no mistake: American military personnel torture prisoners at Guantanamo and elsewhere. If the torture fails to disturb you, consider how the “War on Terror” has assaulted the legal mechanisms that protect us from our government. The case of Jose Padilla, an American civilian who languished for years at a military prison as an “enemy combatant” illustrates a dangerous precedent:
It is difficult to convince a US citizen that legal protections guaranteed in the Constitution no longer exist for him. But that was the mission of US military interrogators ordered to extract as much intelligence as possible from Mr. Padilla.
When advocates of “national security” demand that we not only disregard international treaties on human rights, but also constitutional protections for American citizens, we must ask whose security is really being ensured. As Americans shut our eyes to the reality of our government’s behavior, we inch closer to the day when we ourselves may be hooded, choked with water, or kept in a hostile environment for days with no sleep or food.
In the “War on Terror,” the Bush administration’s actions have increasingly mirrored those of the “terrorists” whose specter it so often dredges up. Nothing symbolizes this distortion of American values more than Guantanamo, which stands as a chilling reminder of how often American governments spit on the international community’s deepest principles: freedom, justice, and human rights.














Governments have killed 170 million people in the last century (war, starvation, genocide). Assuming that murder rates are roughly proportional to population, 10-20 million person to person murders occurred in the same time period. Indisputably, governments are an order of magnitude more dangerous to our lives than we are to each other.
Obviously, the first thing that we should do is promote gun control to get guns out of the hands of civilians. Getting that 10-20 million murders a year under control should be our first priority. If someone is trying to commit a murder, they should call the Government police to save them, because allowing them defensive arms just means they would kill each other.
Ow. The cognitive dissonance gives me a headache.