Narrowing the Divide
Everyone is familiar with California's "three strikes" law. Get three criminal convictions, go to prison for life. With little fanfare, the White House was recently outed on its "no strikes" policy. As reported on January 3, 2005, the White House is preparing to end the "indefinite" incarceration of some "unlawful enemy combatants." Good news you say? Sorry. It now plans to hold them permanently. To that end, the Pentagon has built a new 100-cell prison, dubbed "Camp 5," on Guantanamo Bay. It also plans to ask Congress for $25 million to construct "Camp 6," with an additional 200 beds.
Pentagon spokesman Bryan Whitman described Camps 5 and 6 as the "evolutionary" solution to a "long-term" problem of the United States' global war on terror: what to do with those detainees who will never appear before any form of tribunal due to a lack of evidence. Camp 6 would be specifically for those detainees the government believes have no further intelligence to be extracted. The detainees won't have it so bad - Camp 6 will be modeled after U.S. prisons and the detainees will be allowed to "socialize." So what that they'll never again see the light of day.
In short, the United States intends to permanently imprison individuals. Those individuals will never receive even minimal due process - not out of concerns for national security - but, according to the government, because there is insufficient evidence to warrant imprisonment.
When asked about the White House's new "long-term" plans, Scott McClellan characteristically avoided providing a straight answer, preferring to distinguish a "prison" from a "detention facility." Instead, he trotted out the White House mantra of "a different kind of war" against an enemy "unlike any we have ever seen before," with "no regard for the rule of law."
Kettle, please meet Pot.
This is nothing new, of course. The White House, since the inception of its never-to-end war on terror, has consistently ignored the law while simultaneously decrying the enemy as lawless. The White House, until very recently, considered the Geneva Conventions "quaint" and considered only trauma akin to "organ failure" to be within the definition of torture. At the same time it (rightfully) condemns the beheadings in Iraq as barbarous without the slightest acknowledgment that torture and executions fall within the same continuum of evil.
At that same press conference, Mr. McClellan further distinguished "us" from "them" by pointing out that "they have no regard for innocent civilians." If only the White House and Pentagon had such regard. In both Afghanistan and Iraq, civilian casualties have far out-paced those of combatants. Granted, those casualties can be attributed, in part, to the nature of the conflicts themselves - close quarters, urban warfare, non-uniformed enemies, etc. However, such civilian casualties can be (theoretically) justified only if one believes that invading Afghanistan and Iraq were necessary measures. If, on the other hand, the invasions were not necessary ....
Assuming the United States was justified in invading both sovereign nations and bombing them into oblivion (Shock and Awe, anyone?), where is the regard for innocent civilians? When presented with evidence of civilian casualties, the United States shrugs its shoulders, mumbles something about regrettable accidents, and then moves on. Accepting as true the White House's post facto basis for invading both countries - to liberate the subjects of despots and tyrants - one would think it would take every possible measure to ensure it did not kill the recipients of its beneficence.
Additionally, how many times may one commit a regrettable accident before the act is no longer considered accidental? Once? Twice? Hundreds of times? When does a regrettable accident become indifference? If one indifferently kills innocent civilians, does one really have any regard for their deaths?
Then again, one must break some eggs to make an omelette. What are the deaths of a relatively few innocent civilians when compared to "saving" entire nations? One can almost hear terrorists offering the same justification for their actions.
Pentagon spokesman Bryan Whitman described Camps 5 and 6 as the "evolutionary" solution to a "long-term" problem of the United States' global war on terror: what to do with those detainees who will never appear before any form of tribunal due to a lack of evidence. Camp 6 would be specifically for those detainees the government believes have no further intelligence to be extracted. The detainees won't have it so bad - Camp 6 will be modeled after U.S. prisons and the detainees will be allowed to "socialize." So what that they'll never again see the light of day.
In short, the United States intends to permanently imprison individuals. Those individuals will never receive even minimal due process - not out of concerns for national security - but, according to the government, because there is insufficient evidence to warrant imprisonment.
When asked about the White House's new "long-term" plans, Scott McClellan characteristically avoided providing a straight answer, preferring to distinguish a "prison" from a "detention facility." Instead, he trotted out the White House mantra of "a different kind of war" against an enemy "unlike any we have ever seen before," with "no regard for the rule of law."
Kettle, please meet Pot.
This is nothing new, of course. The White House, since the inception of its never-to-end war on terror, has consistently ignored the law while simultaneously decrying the enemy as lawless. The White House, until very recently, considered the Geneva Conventions "quaint" and considered only trauma akin to "organ failure" to be within the definition of torture. At the same time it (rightfully) condemns the beheadings in Iraq as barbarous without the slightest acknowledgment that torture and executions fall within the same continuum of evil.
At that same press conference, Mr. McClellan further distinguished "us" from "them" by pointing out that "they have no regard for innocent civilians." If only the White House and Pentagon had such regard. In both Afghanistan and Iraq, civilian casualties have far out-paced those of combatants. Granted, those casualties can be attributed, in part, to the nature of the conflicts themselves - close quarters, urban warfare, non-uniformed enemies, etc. However, such civilian casualties can be (theoretically) justified only if one believes that invading Afghanistan and Iraq were necessary measures. If, on the other hand, the invasions were not necessary ....
Assuming the United States was justified in invading both sovereign nations and bombing them into oblivion (Shock and Awe, anyone?), where is the regard for innocent civilians? When presented with evidence of civilian casualties, the United States shrugs its shoulders, mumbles something about regrettable accidents, and then moves on. Accepting as true the White House's post facto basis for invading both countries - to liberate the subjects of despots and tyrants - one would think it would take every possible measure to ensure it did not kill the recipients of its beneficence.
Additionally, how many times may one commit a regrettable accident before the act is no longer considered accidental? Once? Twice? Hundreds of times? When does a regrettable accident become indifference? If one indifferently kills innocent civilians, does one really have any regard for their deaths?
Then again, one must break some eggs to make an omelette. What are the deaths of a relatively few innocent civilians when compared to "saving" entire nations? One can almost hear terrorists offering the same justification for their actions.
posted by Ken Sanders at
9:37 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home