An Admission of Torture?

At a cursory glance, it may seem that the British court's decision in Binyam Mohamed's case yesterday reached a horrifying result: the evidence of Binyam's torture will be kept secret.

The
judges emphasised that there is a "very considerable public interest in
making the [proof of abuse] public, particularly given the
constitutional importance of the prohibition against torture". Despite
this, they ruled that the foreign secretary has the power to suppress the evidence by claiming "national security".

Yet
the judgment is canny. If the judges had ordered the material to be
revealed, over the government's objection, there would have been a
protracted appeal and nobody would have learned anything for months or
years. Instead, they have placed both the British government and the
Obama administration in the immediate and uncomfortable position of
having to confess whether they want to cover up evidence of torture.

A little background: Binyam, the Guantanamo prisoner represented for years by Reprieve,
has described how he was abused in Pakistan, then rendered to Morocco
where a razor blade was taken to his genitals. We know - from the
judgment - that the UK has documents authored by the Americans
themselves that would help prove some of his mistreatment.

I have seen this evidence, as I have a security clearance in the US. You can't see it. Why not?

The
judges repeat no fewer than eight times that the Bush administration
threatened the British that if the judges made this evidence public,
the US would retaliate with sanctions.

Since when do friends
level threats at friends to prevent them from revealing evidence of
crimes? To be sure, in The Godfather, the mafia might have threatened
to put some cement shoes on an informer, but one hardly expects the
same approach to be taken by the White House.

In this case, there are a multitude of crimes
that have been committed. The first was the torture. The second, the
failure to reveal it. These threats represent a third independent
offence - an attempt to blackmail the British into hiding evidence that
they have a legal duty to reveal. And, because the British apparently
have jelly for a backbone, the threats have worked. The judges were shocked:

We
did not consider that a democracy governed by the rule of law [the US]
would expect a court in another democracy [the UK] to suppress ...
evidence contained in reports by its own officials ... where the evidence
was relevant to allegations of torture ... politically embarrassing
though it might be.

The British government led the
court to believe that the Obama administration has adopted the same
line as its predecessor. But is this really true? Certainly, President
Obama needs to speak for himself.

Indeed, the judges conclude
with something close to a plea for common sense: "It must now be for
the United States government to consider changing its position or
itself putting that information into the public domain."

When
history reviews the past eight years, the most lasting concern will not
be ill-advised experiments such at Guantanamo Bay. Rather, it will be
the creeping tendency of democratic governments to use "national
security" as an excuse to keep the truth from those who have elected
them. After all, if the US and the UK can conspire to suppress evidence
of torture, what other dark secrets can they hide?