The disappearance and apparent murder of Saudi Arabian journalist Jamal Khashoggi has gripped the U.S. body politic for the past couple of weeks.
Mr. Khashoggi, a Washington Post contributor and critic of the Saudi government, disappeared on Oct. 2 after entering the Saudi consulate in Istanbul. According to Turkish authorities, Mr. Khashoggi was tortured, killed and dismembered inside the consulate by a 15-member Saudi hit squad.
Although the Saudi government initially denied having anything to do with Mr. Khashoggi’s disappearance, details shared by Turkish officials have compelled the Saudis to change their story. Reports suggest the Saudis will admit they planned to kidnap and extradite Mr. Khashoggi, but that his death was the product of an interrogation gone wrong.
The circumstances of Mr. Khashoggi’s presumed death are disturbing, and the story of an “interrogation gone wrong” from the Saudis has been met by a general sense of incredulity.
In an Oct. 17 op-ed for the Mercury News, Sen. Dianne Feinstein (D., Calif.) wrote that Saudis’ “explanation is hardly believable.”
During a CNN segment on Oct. 15, Washington Post columnist Max Boot said the Saudis’ conduct was “contrary to the norms of international conduct.” During the same segment, retired Maj. Gen. James “Spider” Marks, who served as chief intelligence officer for the land war command during the 2003 invasion of Iraq, said he was “very skeptical” of the Saudis’ claims.
“You don’t botch an interrogation, frankly,” said Mr. Marks. “It was obviously a horrible outcome, which is totally avoidable unless that’s the outcome you’re looking for.”
But as unbelievable as the Saudis’ claim may seem, these commentators have failed to note that the U.S. government has itself used the “interrogation gone wrong” narrative to rationalize the murders of multiple people during the war on terror. The refusal to acknowledge these parallels undermines the moral outrage expressed over the Khashoggi incident.
In December, 2002, a 22-year-old Afghan taxi driver, known only as Dilawar, and his three passengers were detained by the U.S. military in eastern Afghanistan at the Bagram Theater Internment Facility. There was no reported cause for suspicion, but the four men were detained for interrogations. Mr. Dilawar’s three passengers were then moved the Guantánamo Bay detention camp for 15 months before being released with letters admitting they posed “no threat.”
But Mr. Dilawar never left Bagram. He was subjected to a number of “enhanced interrogation techniques.” A thick black hood was placed over his head, limiting his ability to breathe. He endured more than 100 peroneal strikes, causing his legs to be “pulpified” according to a government forensic pathologist. His interrogators tugged on his beard and kicked him in the groin. After five days in U.S. captivity, Mr. Dilawar died.
Although the Army claimed that Mr. Dilawar’s death was due to natural causes, an investigation by the New York Times located Mr. Dilawar’s death certificate, which designated his death a “homicide.”
Mr. Dilawar’s treatment was not unique. An Islamic clergyman named Mullah Habibullah died at Bagram that same week as a result of beatings administered by interrogators.
In the case of Mr. Dilawar, U.S. Army Spc. Glendale C. Walls pleaded guilty and received a two-month military prison sentence for shoving the young taxi driver against a wall and for failing to stop the other abuses. That was the most severe punishment associated with Mr. Dilawar’s death.
And while at least 15 soldiers were investigated in Mr. Habibullah’s case, only one — Spc. Brian Cammack — was convicted. Cammack pleaded guilty to charges of assault and making false statements. He served three months in jail, received a fine, had his rank reduced to private and was given a bad-conduct discharge.
The cases of Mr. Dilawar and Mr. Habibullah are emblematic of what was a significant problem during the war on terror. In 2009, a report by the Daily Beast estimated that as many as 100 U.S. military detainees had been killed while in custody at places like Bagram and Abu Ghraib, with details of their deaths often withheld. American-led interrogations during that time frequently “went wrong.” Mr. Dilawar, Mr. Habibullah and many others were the victims of presumably illegal acts committed under the sanitized guise of “interrogations.”
For most Americans, it is much easier to empathize with a Washington Post journalist than a Afghan taxi driver or clergyman. But as politicians and the media demand justice for Jamal Khashoggi, they should also demand transparency, accountability and justice for those killed in U.S. military custody.
In the wake of the Khashoggi incident, a number of commentators and policymakers have rightly stated that U.S. credibility is undermined when our government ignores state-sanctioned murder. But it is also right to stipulate that the U.S. government should examine its own record as well, that we should make every effort to bring the policies we pursue into full accord with the values we espouse. Our leaders and pundits should possess the fortitude to acknowledge the U.S. government’s crimes, misdeeds, and wrongdoings, and to learn from those failures.
Contact Will Tomer at wtomer@post-gazette.com, 412-263-1932, or on Twitter @WillTomer.
First Published October 22, 2018, 10:00 a.m.
