by Mahvish Khan
On one occasion, DOD told Tom Wilner of Shearman and Sterling that he was going to be banned from the base because of an interview with a detainee that his office had allowed the BBC to broadcast. DOD said that Tom had violated the base protective order. Tom wasn’t pleased.
“There was no violation, and I told them to go to hell,” he told me by e-mail, maintaining that everything his firm gave the BBC for their broadcast had already been cleared by the DOD and stamped unclassified. He said the BBC interview “pissed [DOD] off mightily.” Notoriously outspoken to the press, Tom said the interview was an excuse to attempt to shut him up and cut off face time with his prisoner clients. The matter was eventually settled at the prisoner’s insistence, and the lawyers agreed to inform the military beforehand the next time they decided to publicize an interview.
The DOD tried the banning tactic with a large New York firm after it informed a prisoner that the military had no legal right to force-feed him while he was on a hunger strike. The firm’s legal advice was correct: more than thirty years ago, the World Medical Association declared it unethical to force- feed a mentally competent hunger striker. After the attempted ban, the firm’s lawyers brought the issue before a federal magistrate, and the threat to ban the firm from the base was withdrawn.
Other obstacles arose when the prisoners got visits from interrogators disguised as doctors, lawyers, or delegates from their home countries telling them that they were going to be released. Prisoners never knew who was telling them the truth. They had also been told a wide variety of things that the military believed would incite mistrust in their attorneys. The military told Clive Stafford Smith’s South London client Shaker Aamer that Clive was Jewish, and they told his Jordanian client Osama Abu Kabir that he was gay.
“I think it’s extraordinary, puerile, duplicitous, and wicked, all in the same breath,” Clive said.
Clive also experienced obstacles of another kind. On a trip to the base in 2005, shortly after several detainees began a hunger strike, he was pulled aside into a meeting room by Captain [name redacted], who told Clive that, based on information from the detainees, he believed that Clive was orchestrating the hunger strike. He pointed to a steel mesh cell, threatening to put Clive in it.
“I was really incensed by that,” Clive told British reporters. “I wrote them a letter saying, ‘I don’t want to hear anything more about this, or I’ll be suing you people.’”
Then came the next accusation: In addition to the hunger strikes, Stafford Smith had orchestrated the camp suicides. According to press reports, the U.S. military claimed that a prisoner had said Clive masterminded all of it. It was scary stuff, being framed by the military. It could ruin your life.
Clive responded by going to the media with the threats. He spent a great deal of time dissuading suicidal clients from attempting to take their lives, he said. He had no intention of encouraging anyone to leave Guantánamo in a casket.
“I think they’re targeting me over these suicides in Guantánamo because the military doesn’t want to accept that the prisoners got depressed because they’ve been treated so badly,” Clive told British reporters. “So, they want to point the finger of blame wherever they can.”
In April 2007, the Department of Justice asked a federal court to put more limitations on the lawyers representing Guantánamo prisoners. The government wanted to limit the number of times a lawyer could see a client to four, it wanted permission to read attorney-client-privileged mail, and it wanted more control over what lawyers could discuss with their clients.
The government made this move, claiming that lawyers were directly responsible for inciting hunger strikes and unrest through their communications with prisoners during visits and in legal mail. But this attempt to throw attorney-client privilege out the window outraged lawyers and civil liberties groups nationwide. The American Bar Association called on its members to protest the continued erosion of U.S. law and ethical standards.
Perhaps the biggest hurdle has been learning the military’s sneaky speak. Here are a few interpretations: Enhanced interrogation technique: torture; manipulative self-injurious behavior: suicide attempt; voluntary fast: hunger strike; contraband: flowers, hair clips, straws, plastic spoons, plastic forks, staples; rendition: kidnapping; assisted feeding: forcefeeding hunger strikers by shoving a plastic tube up nose; asymmetric warfare: suicide; self-harm: attempted suicide; hanging gesture: suicide attempt; law fare: legal motion; comfort items: soap, toilet paper; recreation time: placed in a cage by yourself with a ball; high-value detainee: individual secretly imprisoned and tortured by the CIA.
The following are from the 2004 Camp Delta Standard Operating Procedures (Unclassified/FOUA): Document exploitation: detainee mail screening procedures; Behavior Management Plan: to enhance and exploit the disorientation and disorganization felt by a newly arrived detainee in the interrogation process; Roving Sally: a unit responsible for opening and closing the cell-block gates with haste whenever an IRF team is “requested.” There are also special procedures for “Military Working Dogs” (MWD) gone wild: First person to notice a loose dog will call out: LOOSE DOG! Everyone in the area will stop movement and remain still. In the absence of the assigned handler, the person nearest the dog (in some cases this might be the detainee) will attempt to restrain it. There is no protocol for a failed attempt to restrain the MWD except calling in the Roving Sally to facilitate a quick escape.
And finally, Guantanamo Bay, Cuba: United States.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SAMI AL - HAJ
Sudanese journalist Sami al-Haj was covering the war in Afghanistan when he was picked up by U.S. armed forces. He’d been hesitant to head into a war zone, but like so many rookies in search of a scoop, he’d decided that the potential career boost outweighed the risks. But what he thought was the road to celebrity journalism landed him instead in a seven-by- nine-foot cage at Guantánamo Bay.
After that, the thirty-eight-year-old prisoner No. 345 could only share stories in letters or in meetings with his lawyers, Clive Stafford Smith and Zachary Katznelson of Reprieve in London, who visited every six weeks. But al-Haj documented as much as he could about his detention and what he saw at Guantánamo. He said he was willing to be the last man out of the camp if it meant that he could tell the world the truth about what was happening inside its prison walls.
Writing also helped him cope. In a letter to his attorneys, he imagined “small, iron” cells like the one that imprisoned him at Guantánamo lining the foot of the Statue of Liberty: “Inside there are creatures wearing orange clothing. It hardly seems possible that they are human (but) they breathe, just as we breathe, al-Haj. Courtesy of the family Sami al-Haj. they have feelings just as we have feelings, sentiments and emotions,” he wrote.
Sami al-Haj. Courtesy of the family of Sami al-Haj.
Will the world stand for a moment of silence one day beside that colossal wreck saying, “There was once a stone statue here—a statue called Liberty”? . . . The enormous statue cries out to the world, “Liberty and Justice for All!” Yet despite the floodlights all around Lady Liberty, her voice becomes weaker, and the world begins to see that she is either deceiving or deceived. Else how could she allow those cells to be built in her very foundation? Sadly, the flame in her hand is sputtering in the storm. Will, first, the light go out on the world, and then the statue crumble?
In April 2000, al-Haj responded to an employment ad run by the Middle East broadcasting network Al-Jazeera. He had no formal training in journalism, but he was ambitious, fluent in English, knew about computers, and had a natural command of language.
He started as a freelancer, then jumped at the chance to prove himself on the frontlines as a cameraman in Afghanistan. More seasoned journalists shied away from the assignment, but al-Haj saw it as his moment to shine.
From Pakistan, he headed west to Afghanistan with the rest of the Al-Jazeera news team to cover the conflict for more than two weeks, sometimes working fifteen hours
a day, before returning to Pakistan. He made several trips like this, sometimes crossing the border at Chaman and other times at Spinboldak. In December 2001, the station sent him to cover the inauguration of interim Afghan president Hamid Karzai. But the crew was stopped en route by Pakistani police, and al- Haj was detained. His passports, travel visas, and press cards were taken. It was the last time his crew saw him.
Three weeks later, on January 7, 2002, the Pakistanis handed him over into U.S. custody. Al-Haj described the event in his writings:
They put black hoods over our heads, tied our hands and feet and loaded us into a vehicle. They drove away, and we lay there, still, with no idea where we were going, or what our destiny might be when we arrived. After some time, the vehicle stopped and the engine shut down. There was a frightening silence that echoed around us for the longest ten minutes of my life.
The terrifying silence turned into even more disorienting activity. The doors opened, and hands began dragging us, throwing us out of the vehicle. Every part of my body was forcibly searched. Each of us received a quick series of punches and kicks—a warning that now we were in different hands. The sale was complete—one era of our suffering was over, a new one about to begin.
His American captors transported him by plane to Bagram Air Force Base. When the plane landed, he was thrown onto the tarmac by a U.S. soldier. The impact tore the tendons in his knee, which never healed.
The next sixteen days at Bagram, he said in terms we heard from so many of the prisoners, were “the worst days of my life.” He said he was severely tortured, attacked by dogs, held in an icy cage, and fed frozen food. He was later moved to a dark prison infested with rats in Kandahar, in southern Afghanistan, where his physical and psychological torture and abuse continued: he was subjected to multiple full-cavity searches, forced into stress positions, made to kneel for long periods on concrete floors, and mercilessly beaten on a regular basis.
Amnesty International further reported that the hairs on al- Haj’s beard were plucked, that he was not allowed to wash for months on end, and that he was infested with lice and threatened with rape.
June 13, 2002. Along with dozens of other prisoners, al-Haj was hooded, shackled, gagged, and hauled onto a dark, windowless military plane.
Guantánamo Bay. On arrival, he was intimidated by ferocious dogs, the beginning of the abuse he would suffer. He was denied medical treatment for throat cancer and rheumatism. He said he witnessed numerous desecrations of the Qu’ran. Some guards didn’t even bother to refer to him as No. 345; they just called him “nigger” because he’s black. Al-Haj thought that some of the black prisoners were denied recreation, and depending on which soldier was on duty, their meals were often delayed for long periods.
In 2007, he was moved to Camp 6, the newly built maximum-security section of the prison where prisoners were confined to eight-by-ten-foot cells for at least twenty-two hours a day and allowed out only infrequently to shower or to exercise in enclosed areas surrounded by high concrete walls. There were no windows to the outside, and the prisoners complained that the cold was unbearable.
At 9:30 AM on January 7, 2007, the fifth anniversary of his imprisonment, al-Haj began a hunger strike. He wrote to the base admiral and to his interrogators, saying that his protest would continue until the following five conditions were met: (1) the U.S. military agreed to respect the prisoners’ religious rights, (2) the Geneva Conventions were properly applied, (3) those held in total isolation were allowed to rejoin humanity, (4) there was a full and fair investigation into the fate of the three prisoners who died in custody on June 10, 2006, and (5) he was either set free or allowed a fair trial in a civilian court in the United States.
He received no response to his requests.
At least thirteen prisoners went on strike along with him to protest the harsh Gitmo conditions. Al-Haj’s lawyers worried as he lost more and more weight and his orange uniform hung more and more loosely on his shrinking frame. He experienced dizzy spells and started to have trouble standing up. His pulse dropped to seventy-six, and his hearing started to deteriorate, as did his eyesight. As punishment for going on strike, the military took away his glasses. If he tried to read the Qur’an, his eyes watered badly, and he got splitting headaches. He started finding it hard to concentrate and to sleep.
The guards also confiscated his knee band, and his knee caused him constant pain. He was force-fed twice daily in sixteen-point restraints. He always prayed that the process would go smoothly, but the tube was often jammed into his lungs instead of his stomach. Water that was poured down the tube to see whether it was properly positioned would often spurt up his airways and into his nose.
The forcefeeding was designed to make things as difficult as possible for the strikers in an effort to induce them to stop. In the early years, many did. But the prisoners toughened over the years, and the forcefeeding ceased to be an effective deterrent. The thirteen hunger strikers in 2007 were tough, so the military changed the forcefeeding times to 8 AM and 11 PM to disrupt the prisoners’ sleeping schedule and exhaust them. Eventually, four of the strikers would give up. But even at the end of the year, nine, in addition to al-Haj, were persisting in their protest.
Even during the hunger strike, al-Haj continued to write. He also kept a diary of his strike, which his lawyers recorded for him. Declassified by the Defense Department, it reflected the experiences of numerous other detainees who had protested in similar fashion. Here’s an excerpt:
If the prisoner misses three meals, he is immediately punished without any recourse. This begins with the removal of his mattress and its replacement with a thin isomat, as well as the confiscation of his letters and his pen.
When the prisoner has missed five meals, he loses the bottles of water that he is normally allowed between meals, and he must drink the yellow tap water— despite the agreement the military made in July 2005 [that the prisoners would get three bottles of clean water each day]. He also loses his soap and toothpaste.
When the prisoner has missed six meals, he loses his prayer beads, his prayer rug, his sheet and blanket (except between the hours of 10 PM to 5 AM), his library books and his cup. In my case I also lost my glasses and the knee brace that had been prescribed by the doctors [for the knee injury I sustained when I was thrown on the Bagram tarmac]. I was suffering with my knee a lot when I had to bend to use the toilet, but thanks to the strike I now use the toilet much less, so the pain is reduced.
They have taken my pen. I have been allowed a pen only for 30 minutes each time, on January 11th and January 18th, to write to my lawyer. I received a letter from Amnesty in Belgium—a place called Louvain-la-Neuve. It had been sent on November 21, 2006, but I cannot reply. I am sorry.
At this point, the prisoner is left with just his Qur’an, the isomat, and the clothes he is wearing. He is allowed only five minutes when he takes a shower, and he is denied all recreation time. . . .
They are forcefeeding me now.
I was 204 pounds when I began. . . . After 11 days, I was already down to 176 lbs. Every day they drew my blood. After 18 days, they took me to the hospital. They asked me if I wanted to eat, and I told them no. They said I needed an IV. I said I did not want it. They made me drink two bottles of water in front of them and then took me back to my cell.
On the Saturday [January 27], which was the 21st day of my strike, they took me back to the hospital. I was 168 lbs. They told me there was no sugar in my blood, and that I would die.
“I know I will die,” I replied.
They said I needed an IV. I said I would not have one. They said that water was not enough, and they would force me, so I complied. They said they would put an IV in and give me one bag [of nutrients]. The IV was in my elbow. They put one bag in. When it was done, they brought another bag. I said they had promised only one. But they gave me a second. Then, they brought a third, which they said was vitamins. I said they had lied to me, and I would rip the IV out with my teeth.
“We will put you in ‘The Chair,’” the officer said. [This refers to the chair used to strap the prisoners down for forced feeding. The prisoners call it the “Torture Chair.” Advertisements for the chair available on the Internet say it as “like a padded cell on wheels.”] It was the time for prayer, so I asked the officer for five minutes. I asked them to remove the IV while I prayed. They refused. I missed two prayer times there. They cared more about their IV than for my prayer.
When I had missed 70 meals, the doctor said that my condition was very bad. It was more than 500 hours since I had last eaten food. He said they would force-feed me or I could die within hours. I said I did not wish to eat. I told him that I knew my rights under the Tokyo Declaration—they could not force-feed me consistent with their ethics, because they knew I was competent, and they knew I made the decision voluntarily.
“I wish to go back to my cell please,” I told them. There was a nurse, who let me pray.
On Monday [January 29] they told me that they would not let me die. They brought in a 12 mm tube. It was yellow. They pushed it into my left nostril, all the way down until it reached my stomach. They force-fed me by machine, 250 ml of Ensure. I was there for 14 hours with the tube in my nose. It was 1:30 AM. I wanted to sleep and asked them to take it out, but they refused. I said I would begin to scream unless they took it out. They finally did.
On Tuesday [January 30] at 8 AM, they forced the tube in again. This time it was 900 ml of Ensure. The whole time they had an IV in me. The first day they had forced it in at 20 ml per hour, but the second day it was 100 ml an hour. It took almost ten hours in total. It did not finish until about 6 PM.