|
TERRORISM: Guantanamo Showdown
By Benjamin Wittes
Now that September 11 charges have finally been filed, it’s make-or-break time for the military tribunals. By Benjamin Wittes.
At long last, one way or another we’re about to learn a great deal about military
commissions. The charges prosecutors filed on February 11 against
Khalid Sheikh Mohammed and five other alleged September 11 conspirators
cannot proceed credibly to trial in anything less than a viable court system.
The evidentiary questions they pose are too tricky, the charges are too
severe, the interrogation tactics are too ugly, and with 3,000 people dead
and the government seeking death, the stakes are too high. More than six
years after the Bush administration first introduced military commissions,
finally we will learn whether they offer a plausible means of trying terrorists
or whether the system really is the total flop it has seemed to be so far.
Flop is actually a generous word for the commissions’ performance to
date. Bush announced them shortly after the attacks, to great consternation
from civil libertarians and human rights groups, who feared they
would menace liberty. But this system hasn’t even been competent enough
to put people on trial. Despite all the sound and fury, it has produced only
a single completed proceeding, a guilty plea from an Australian, David
Hicks, who was insignificant enough to be sent home a few months later,
and was released from prison in December.
The commissions haven’t even managed to get convictions of people
who were positively begging for them. At a hearing of his abortive commission trial in 2004, Ali Hamza Ahmed Suleiman Al Bahlul announced:
“I testify that the American government is under no pressure. . . . I am from
Al-Qaeda.”
More than six years after the Bush administration first introduced military
commissions, finally we will learn whether they offer a plausible means of
trying terrorists or whether the system is the total flop it has seemed to be.
Ghassan Abdullah Al Sharbi went further. He freely admitted to the very
serious allegations against him: conspiracy to murder and attack civilians
and to commit terrorist acts. “I’m going to make it short and easy for you
guys. I’m going to say what I did without denying anything. I’m proud of
what I did and there isn’t any reason of fighting what I did,” he told the
court. “I’m willing to pay the price no matter how much you sentence me
even if I spend hundreds of years in jail. In fact, it’s going to be an honor—
a medal of honor to me.” Both men remain at Guantanamo, and notwithstanding
their efforts at self-incrimination, neither has seen a guilty verdict.
And it is this system that we are now asking to deal with a case that is as
knotty and difficult as a case can possibly be. The defendants are truly the
worst of the worst. They have been subjected to, to use the Bush administration’s
terms, “enhanced” interrogation techniques, including, in one confirmed
instance, waterboarding, and we can therefore expect the provenance
of every shred of evidence to come under sustained assault from any
competent defense counsel. And this litigation will take place in an environment
in which almost nothing has been settled procedurally and in
which virtually all questions are therefore matters of first impression.
It’s a sink-or-swim situation for a system that has shown little aptitude
for swimming. And, for better or worse, it will clarify a lot.
If, by some miracle, the commissions swim, they will fundamentally alter
the debate over terrorist trials. If the military can conduct an open proceeding
that provides a reasonable opportunity to litigate difficult questions
regarding torture by genuinely testing the government’s evidence that
may have been derived (directly or indirectly) from such techniques, it
might just succeed in using this trial to create legitimacy for its new institution
of international justice. To be sure, the controversy over military commissions will not go away entirely; many people in the United States
and its allied countries are opposed to them in principle. But a successful,
fair trial of this magnitude would dissipate the controversy considerably.
Most people, after all, don’t know how trials under the Military Commissions
Act differ from those under the Federal Rules of Criminal Procedure
or the Uniform Code of Military Justice. They know only that a lot of other
people believe these trials will offer kangaroo justice. To the extent that the
commissions turn out to be more balanced than that, public anxiety will
ease and the administration may be able to normalize them.
If the trials fail, however, the commissions will probably never recover.
Trying Al-Qaeda’s top dogs is their whole purpose, after all. If they can’t
handle this kind of case, and handle it better than any existing alternative,
what good are they?
There are two ways for the commissions to fail. If they make conviction
too easy for the government, they will confirm the worst fears of human
rights groups, liberals, and America’s European allies. They will fail, in other
words, by succeeding. The second possibility is that—with every imaginable
issue up for litigation in this case—they will collapse under the sheer
weight of the task before them and never really get off the ground. Either
failure will send policy makers back to the drawing board, forcing them to
decide the same question the Bush administration faced six years ago:
whether to adapt federal court trials to the challenges of international terrorism
or whether to try something new.
The commissions haven’t even managed to get convictions of people who
were positively begging for them.
It is also possible that the commissions will neither sink nor swim but
tread water—that is, produce a marginally credible trial but one with a lot
of rough edges that still attract international and domestic suspicion and
criticism. This may be the most likely outcome. And if it comes to pass, it
will suggest that the commissions may be a work in progress—the kernel
of a good idea implemented with inadequate imagination and respect for
the development of the American legal system since the military last used
commissions in the wake of World War II. The good idea is that terrorist cases require some nontrivial departures from conventional federal court
norms. The inadequate imagination may lie in the administration’s toostrong
reliance on legal models developed for warfare, rather than developed
for the peculiar task of fighting terrorism. The trial of Khalid Sheikh
Mohammed and his co-defendants may end up working at some level and
still highlight the need for further development of a trial system adapted
for this purpose, not imported from past wars.
It’s possible that the commissions will neither sink nor swim but tread
water—that is, produce a marginally credible trial with a lot of rough
edges that still attract international and domestic suspicion.
Among the Bush administration’s great failures in the legal war on terrorism,
taking six years to charge the September 11 conspirators—and having
even at that late date only an untested trial regime ready to handle the
case—ranks high indeed. In those years, the world has grown complacent
about the threat posed by the defendants’ colleagues at large. Its focus has
shifted from what they did to the United States before their capture to what
the United States did to them after their capture. This trial would have been
difficult enough if it were merely given the task of delivering justice for September
11. But now it has to do so much more: finish building, and start
justifying, a new legal regime for terrorist trials. If it fails in either respect,
it will probably bury, once and for all, the project of creating one.
This essay appeared in the New Republic online on February 14, 2008.
Available from the Hoover Press is Practical Guide to Winning the War on Terrorism, edited by Adam Garfinkle. To order, call 800.935.2882 or visit www.hooverpress.org.
Benjamin Wittes is a fellow and research director in public law at the Brookings Institution. He is the author of Law and the Long War: The Future of Justice in the Age of Terror (Penguin Press, 2008), Starr: A Reassessment (Yale University Press, 2002), and Confirmation Wars: Preserving Independent Courts in Angry Times (Rowman & Littlefield and the Hoover Institution Press, 2006). He is a columnist for the New Republic online and a contributing editor for the Atlantic Monthly. Between 1997 and 2006 he served as an editorial writer for the Washington Post specializing in legal affairs. Wittes also covered the Justice Department and federal regulatory agencies as a reporter and news editor at Legal Times. His writing has appeared in a wide range of journals and magazines, including Slate, the New Republic, the Wilson Quarterly, the Weekly Standard, Policy Review, and First Things. Wittes graduated from Oberlin College.
|