Scapegoating the CIA

This week Washington will continue to face fallout from the administration's decision, in the aftermath of the September 11, 2001 attacks, temporarily to sanction the use of torture ('enhanced interrogation') against high-value al-Qaida suspects.

But instead of focusing on the original decision, since rescinded, to authorise the use of 'waterboarding' (simulated drowning) and other 'stress techniques' (e.g., painful restraints, sleep deprivation) against alleged terrorists, Congress has chosen to focus on the CIA's destruction of videotaped evidence of these sessions. 

This effectively shifts the debate from the main issue -- the use of torture against terrorists, which is still backed by a substantial segment of the public -- to the 'cover-up'.  Investigators are likely to avoid assigning culpability to the politicians or policymakers, of both parties, who authorised -- or were aware of the authorisation of -- these activities, and simply blame the CIA and its officials.

No 'rogue elephant'

The CIA is accustomed to assuming accountability for policymakers' choices.  In the wake of the Watergate affair, a Senate committee chaired by Democrat Frank Church launched a two-year (1975-76) probe into illegal activities carried out by US intelligence agencies.  They exposed a catalogue of Cold War-era wrongdoing -- from a 25 year FBI/CIA warrantless mail-opening operation, to President John F. Kennedy's attempts to use the mafia to assassinate Cuban President Fidel Castro.  These revelations, which became known as the CIA's 'family jewels', led Church to characterise the intelligence community, and the CIA in particular, as a "rogue elephant".

Yet the CIA was hardly carrying out these activities on its own initiative.  The Agency was, and is, simply an instrument of the US government.  Although 'rogue agents' are a regular feature in spy novels, they hardly apply to CIA as a whole.  In short, like other parts of the bureaucracy, the Agency follows orders and tends to be relatively cautious.  To claim otherwise is simply naïve. 

So who is to blame?

The political responsibility for authorising 'enhanced interrogation' rests with President George Bush and Congress.  The wider climate of fear that followed September 11 ultimately made the decision to take such action easy.  Just two years ago, a Gallup poll indicated that 38% of the US public (and 51% of Republicans) thought that the government should use torture against terrorist suspects who might have knowledge of future attacks.

There were, of course, many US citizens who furiously opposed such tactics.  For example, Republican Senator John McCain -- the only leading US politician to have experienced torture -- has condemned waterboarding as a "technique invented in the Spanish inquisition" and subsequently employed by Pol Pot and the Burmese military junta.  However, his rejection of torture has not helped his presidential campaign.

Necessary evil?

Policymakers are often forced make difficult choices involving utilitarian logic -- harming the few to protect the many.  Anecdotally, some CIA interrogators believe that waterboarding helped extract valuable intelligence from al-Qaida figures.  Most skilled interrogators, including many within the FBI, strongly disagree -- noting that the application of such extreme measures tends to result in the prisoner telling his captors what he believes they want to hear, which is often useless or untrue.  A recent study by the US National Defense Intelligence College indicated that there was no scientific basis to conclude that 'enhanced interrogation' improved the quality of intelligence gleaned from captured terrorist suspects.

But the original decision to authorise waterboarding was not driven by such rational calculations.  It was a political decision, taken during a national emergency.  Politicians will escape censure, except possibly by historians.  For now, CIA will take the blame.