The roots of the Abu Ghraib prison scandal lie
not in the criminal inclinations of a few Army reservists but in a
decision, approved last year by Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld,
to expand a highly secret operation, which had been focussed on the
hunt for Al Qaeda, to the interrogation of prisoners in Iraq.
Rumsfeld’s decision embittered the American intelligence community,
damaged the effectiveness of élite combat units, and hurt America’s
prospects in the war on terror.
According to interviews with several past and present American
intelligence officials, the Pentagon’s operation, known inside the
intelligence community by several code words, including Copper
Green, encouraged physical coercion and sexual humiliation of Iraqi
prisoners in an effort to generate more intelligence about the
growing insurgency in Iraq. A senior C.I.A. official, in confirming
the details of this account last week, said that the operation
stemmed from Rumsfeld’s long-standing desire to wrest control of
America’s clandestine and paramilitary operations from the C.I.A.
Rumsfeld, during appearances last week before Congress to testify
about Abu Ghraib, was precluded by law from explicitly mentioning
highly secret matters in an unclassified session. But he conveyed
the message that he was telling the public all that he knew about
the story. He said, “Any suggestion that there is not a full, deep
awareness of what has happened, and the damage it has done, I think,
would be a misunderstanding.” The senior C.I.A. official, asked
about Rumsfeld’s testimony and that of Stephen Cambone, his
Under-Secretary for Intelligence, said, “Some people think you can
bullshit anyone.”
The Abu Ghraib story began, in a sense, just weeks after the
September 11, 2001, attacks, with the American bombing of
Afghanistan. Almost from the start, the Administration’s search for
Al Qaeda members in the war zone, and its worldwide search for
terrorists, came up against major command-and-control problems. For
example, combat forces that had Al Qaeda targets in sight had to
obtain legal clearance before firing on them. On October 7th, the
night the bombing began, an unmanned Predator aircraft tracked an
automobile convoy that, American intelligence believed, contained
Mullah Muhammad Omar, the Taliban leader. A lawyer on duty at the
United States Central Command headquarters, in Tampa, Florida,
refused to authorize a strike. By the time an attack was approved,
the target was out of reach. Rumsfeld was apoplectic over what he
saw as a self-defeating hesitation to attack that was due to
political correctness. One officer described him to me that fall as
“kicking a lot of glass and breaking doors.” In November, the
Washington Post reported that, as many
as ten times since early October, Air Force pilots believed they’d
had senior Al Qaeda and Taliban members in their sights but had been
unable to act in time because of legalistic hurdles. There were
similar problems throughout the world, as American Special Forces
units seeking to move quickly against suspected terrorist cells were
compelled to get prior approval from local American ambassadors and
brief their superiors in the chain of command.
Rumsfeld reacted in his usual direct fashion: he authorized the
establishment of a highly secret program that was given blanket
advance approval to kill or capture and, if possible, interrogate
“high value” targets in the Bush Administration’s war on terror. A
special-access program, or sap—subject
to the Defense Department’s most stringent level of security—was set
up, with an office in a secure area of the Pentagon. The program
would recruit operatives and acquire the necessary equipment,
including aircraft, and would keep its activities under wraps.
America’s most successful intelligence operations during the Cold
War had been saps, including the
Navy’s submarine penetration of underwater cables used by the Soviet
high command and construction of the Air Force’s stealth bomber. All
the so-called “black” programs had one element in common: the
Secretary of Defense, or his deputy, had to conclude that the normal
military classification restraints did not provide enough security.
“Rumsfeld’s goal was to get a capability in place to take on a
high-value target—a standup group to hit quickly,” a former
high-level intelligence official told me. “He got all the agencies
together—the C.I.A. and the N.S.A.—to get pre-approval in place.
Just say the code word and go.” The operation had across-the-board
approval from Rumsfeld and from Condoleezza Rice, the
national-security adviser. President Bush was informed of the
existence of the program, the former intelligence official said.
The people assigned to the program worked by the
book, the former intelligence official told me. They created code
words, and recruited, after careful screening, highly trained
commandos and operatives from America’s élite forces—Navy
seals, the Army’s Delta Force, and
the C.I.A.’s paramilitary experts. They also asked some basic
questions: “Do the people working the problem have to use aliases?
Yes. Do we need dead drops for the mail? Yes. No traceability and no
budget. And some special-access programs are never fully briefed to
Congress.”
In theory, the operation enabled the Bush Administration to
respond immediately to time-sensitive intelligence: commandos
crossed borders without visas and could interrogate terrorism
suspects deemed too important for transfer to the military’s
facilities at Guantánamo, Cuba. They carried out instant
interrogations—using force if necessary—at secret C.I.A. detention
centers scattered around the world. The intelligence would be
relayed to the sap command center in
the Pentagon in real time, and sifted for those pieces of
information critical to the “white,” or overt, world.
Fewer than two hundred operatives and officials, including
Rumsfeld and General Richard Myers, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of
Staff, were “completely read into the program,” the former
intelligence official said. The goal was to keep the operation
protected. “We’re not going to read more people than necessary into
our heart of darkness,” he said. “The rules are ‘Grab whom you must.
Do what you want.’”
One Pentagon official who was deeply involved in the program was
Stephen Cambone, who was named Under-Secretary of Defense for
Intelligence in March, 2003. The office was new; it was created as
part of Rumsfeld’s reorganization of the Pentagon. Cambone was
unpopular among military and civilian intelligence bureaucrats in
the Pentagon, essentially because he had little experience in
running intelligence programs, though in 1998 he had served as staff
director for a committee, headed by Rumsfeld, that warned of an
emerging ballistic-missile threat to the United States. He was known
instead for his closeness to Rumsfeld. “Remember Henry II—‘Who will
rid me of this meddlesome priest?’” the senior C.I.A. official said
to me, with a laugh, last week. “Whatever Rumsfeld whimsically says,
Cambone will do ten times that much.”
Cambone was a strong advocate for war against Iraq. He shared
Rumsfeld’s disdain for the analysis and assessments proffered by the
C.I.A., viewing them as too cautious, and chafed, as did Rumsfeld,
at the C.I.A.’s inability, before the Iraq war, to state
conclusively that Saddam Hussein harbored weapons of mass
destruction. Cambone’s military assistant, Army Lieutenant General
William G. (Jerry) Boykin, was also controversial. Last fall, he
generated unwanted headlines after it was reported that, in a speech
at an Oregon church, he equated the Muslim world with Satan.
Early in his tenure, Cambone provoked a bureaucratic battle
within the Pentagon by insisting that he be given control of all
special-access programs that were relevant to the war on terror.
Those programs, which had been viewed by many in the Pentagon as
sacrosanct, were monitored by Kenneth deGraffenreid, who had
experience in counter-intelligence programs. Cambone got control,
and deGraffenreid subsequently left the Pentagon. Asked for comment
on this story, a Pentagon spokesman said, “I will not discuss any
covert programs; however, Dr. Cambone did not assume his position as
the Under-Secretary of Defense for Intelligence until March 7, 2003,
and had no involvement in the decision-making process regarding
interrogation procedures in Iraq or anywhere else.”
In mid-2003, the special-access program was regarded in the
Pentagon as one of the success stories of the war on terror. “It was
an active program,” the former intelligence official told me. “It’s
been the most important capability we have for dealing with an
imminent threat. If we discover where Osama bin Laden is, we can get
him. And we can remove an existing threat with a real capability to
hit the United States—and do so without visibility.” Some of its
methods were troubling and could not bear close scrutiny, however.
By then, the war in Iraq had begun. The
sap was involved in some assignments in Iraq, the former
official said. C.I.A. and other American Special Forces operatives
secretly teamed up to hunt for Saddam Hussein and—without
success—for Iraqi weapons of mass destruction. But they weren’t able
to stop the evolving insurgency.
In the first months after the fall of Baghdad,
Rumsfeld and his aides still had a limited view of the insurgency,
seeing it as little more than the work of Baathist “dead-enders,”
criminal gangs, and foreign terrorists who were Al Qaeda followers.
The Administration measured its success in the war by how many of
those on its list of the fifty-five most wanted members of the old
regime—reproduced on playing cards—had been captured. Then, in
August, 2003, terror bombings in Baghdad hit the Jordanian Embassy,
killing nineteen people, and the United Nations headquarters,
killing twenty-three people, including Sergio Vieira de Mello, the
head of the U.N. mission. On August 25th, less than a week after the
U.N. bombing, Rumsfeld acknowledged, in a talk before the Veterans
of Foreign Wars, that “the dead-enders are still with us.” He went
on, “There are some today who are surprised that there are still
pockets of resistance in Iraq, and they suggest that this represents
some sort of failure on the part of the Coalition. But this is not
the case.” Rumsfeld compared the insurgents with those true
believers who “fought on during and after the defeat of the Nazi
regime in Germany.” A few weeks later—and five months after the fall
of Baghdad—the Defense Secretary declared,“It is, in my view, better
to be dealing with terrorists in Iraq than in the United States.”
Inside the Pentagon, there was a growing realization that the war
was going badly. The increasingly beleaguered and baffled Army
leadership was telling reporters that the insurgents consisted of
five thousand Baathists loyal to Saddam Hussein. “When you
understand that they’re organized in a cellular structure,” General
John Abizaid, the head of the Central Command, declared, “that . . .
they have access to a lot of money and a lot of ammunition, you’ll
understand how dangerous they are.”
The American military and intelligence communities were having
little success in penetrating the insurgency. One internal report
prepared for the U.S. military, made available to me, concluded that
the insurgents’“strategic and operational intelligence has proven to
be quite good.” According to the study:
Their ability to attack
convoys, other vulnerable targets and particular individuals has
been the result of painstaking surveillance and reconnaissance.
Inside information has been passed on to insurgent cells about
convoy/troop movements and daily habits of Iraqis working with
coalition from within the Iraqi security services, primarily the
Iraqi Police force which is rife with sympathy for the insurgents,
Iraqi ministries and from within pro-insurgent individuals working
with the CPA’s so-called Green Zone.
The study concluded, “Politically, the U.S. has failed to date.
Insurgencies can be fixed or ameliorated by dealing with what caused
them in the first place. The disaster that is the reconstruction of
Iraq has been the key cause of the insurgency. There is no
legitimate government, and it behooves the Coalition Provisional
Authority to absorb the sad but unvarnished fact that most Iraqis do
not see the Governing Council”—the Iraqi body appointed by the
C.P.A.—“as the legitimate authority. Indeed, they know that the true
power is the CPA.”
By the fall, a military analyst told me, the extent of the
Pentagon’s political and military misjudgments was clear. Donald
Rumsfeld’s “dead-enders” now included not only Baathists but many
marginal figures as well—thugs and criminals who were among the tens
of thousands of prisoners freed the previous fall by Saddam as part
of a prewar general amnesty. Their desperation was not driving the
insurgency; it simply made them easy recruits for those who were.
The analyst said, “We’d killed and captured guys who had been given
two or three hundred dollars to ‘pray and spray’”—that is, shoot
randomly and hope for the best. “They weren’t really insurgents but
down-and-outers who were paid by wealthy individuals sympathetic to
the insurgency.” In many cases, the paymasters were Sunnis who had
been members of the Baath Party. The analyst said that the
insurgents “spent three or four months figuring out how we operated
and developing their own countermeasures. If that meant putting up a
hapless guy to go and attack a convoy and see how the American
troops responded, they’d do it.” Then, the analyst said, “the clever
ones began to get in on the action.”
By contrast, according to the military report, the American and
Coalition forces knew little about the insurgency: “Human
intelligence is poor or lacking . . . due to the dearth of
competence and expertise. . . . The intelligence effort is not
coördinated since either too many groups are involved in gathering
intelligence or the final product does not get to the troops in the
field in a timely manner.” The success of the war was at risk;
something had to be done to change the dynamic.
The solution, endorsed by Rumsfeld and carried out by
Stephen Cambone, was to get tough with those Iraqis in the Army
prison system who were suspected of being insurgents. A key player
was Major General Geoffrey Miller, the commander of the detention
and interrogation center at Guantánamo, who had been summoned to
Baghdad in late August to review prison interrogation procedures.
The internal Army report on the abuse charges, written by Major
General Antonio Taguba in February, revealed that Miller urged that
the commanders in Baghdad change policy and place military
intelligence in charge of the prison. The report quoted Miller as
recommending that “detention operations must act as an enabler for
interrogation.”
Miller’s concept, as it emerged in recent Senate hearings, was to
“Gitmoize” the prison system in Iraq—to make it more focussed on
interrogation. He also briefed military commanders in Iraq on the
interrogation methods used in Cuba—methods that could, with special
approval, include sleep deprivation, exposure to extremes of cold
and heat, and placing prisoners in “stress positions” for agonizing
lengths of time. (The Bush Administration had unilaterally declared
Al Qaeda and other captured members of international terrorist
networks to be illegal combatants, and not eligible for the
protection of the Geneva Conventions.)
Rumsfeld and Cambone went a step further, however: they expanded
the scope of the sap, bringing its
unconventional methods to Abu Ghraib. The commandos were to operate
in Iraq as they had in Afghanistan. The male prisoners could be
treated roughly, and exposed to sexual humiliation.
“They weren’t getting anything substantive from the detainees in
Iraq,” the former intelligence official told me. “No names. Nothing
that they could hang their hat on. Cambone says, I’ve got to crack
this thing and I’m tired of working through the normal chain of
command. I’ve got this apparatus set up—the black special-access
program—and I’m going in hot. So he pulls the switch, and the
electricity begins flowing last summer. And it’s working. We’re
getting a picture of the insurgency in Iraq and the intelligence is
flowing into the white world. We’re getting good stuff. But we’ve
got more targets”—prisoners in Iraqi jails—“than people who can
handle them.”
Cambone then made another crucial decision, the former
intelligence official told me: not only would he bring the
sap’s rules into the prisons; he
would bring some of the Army military-intelligence officers working
inside the Iraqi prisons under the sap’s
auspices. “So here are fundamentally good
soldiers—military-intelligence guys—being told that no rules apply,”
the former official, who has extensive knowledge of the
special-access programs, added. “And, as far as they’re concerned,
this is a covert operation, and it’s to be kept within Defense
Department channels.”
The military-police prison guards, the former official said,
included “recycled hillbillies from Cumberland, Maryland.” He was
referring to members of the 372nd Military Police Company. Seven
members of the company are now facing charges for their role in the
abuse at Abu Ghraib. “How are these guys from Cumberland going to
know anything? The Army Reserve doesn’t know what it’s doing.”
Who was in charge of Abu Ghraib—whether military police or
military intelligence—was no longer the only question that mattered.
Hard-core special operatives, some of them with aliases, were
working in the prison. The military police assigned to guard the
prisoners wore uniforms, but many others—military intelligence
officers, contract interpreters, C.I.A. officers, and the men from
the special-access program—wore civilian clothes. It was not clear
who was who, even to Brigadier General Janis Karpinski, then the
commander of the 800th Military Police Brigade, and the officer
ostensibly in charge. “I thought most of the civilians there were
interpreters, but there were some civilians that I didn’t know,”
Karpinski told me. “I called them the disappearing ghosts. I’d seen
them once in a while at Abu Ghraib and then I’d see them months
later. They were nice—they’d always call out to me and say, ‘Hey,
remember me? How are you doing?’” The mysterious civilians, she
said, were “always bringing in somebody for interrogation or waiting
to collect somebody going out.” Karpinski added that she had no idea
who was operating in her prison system. (General Taguba found that
Karpinski’s leadership failures contributed to the abuses.)
By fall, according to the former intelligence official, the
senior leadership of the C.I.A. had had enough. “They said, ‘No way.
We signed up for the core program in Afghanistan—pre-approved for
operations against high-value terrorist targets—and now you want to
use it for cabdrivers, brothers-in-law, and people pulled off the
streets’”—the sort of prisoners who populate the Iraqi jails. “The
C.I.A.’s legal people objected,” and the agency ended its
sap involvement in Abu Ghraib, the
former official said.
The C.I.A.’s complaints were echoed throughout the intelligence
community. There was fear that the situation at Abu Ghraib would
lead to the exposure of the secret sap,
and thereby bring an end to what had been, before Iraq, a valuable
cover operation. “This was stupidity,” a government consultant told
me. “You’re taking a program that was operating in the chaos of
Afghanistan against Al Qaeda, a stateless terror group, and bringing
it into a structured, traditional war zone. Sooner or later, the
commandos would bump into the legal and moral procedures of a
conventional war with an Army of a hundred and thirty-five thousand
soldiers.”
The former senior intelligence official blamed hubris for the Abu
Ghraib disaster. “There’s nothing more exhilarating for a pissant
Pentagon civilian than dealing with an important national security
issue without dealing with military planners, who are always worried
about risk,” he told me. “What could be more boring than needing the
coöperation of logistical planners?” The only difficulty, the former
official added, is that, “as soon as you enlarge the secret program
beyond the oversight capability of experienced people, you lose
control. We’ve never had a case where a special-access program went
sour—and this goes back to the Cold War.”
In a separate interview, a Pentagon consultant, who spent much of
his career directly involved with special-access programs, spread
the blame. “The White House subcontracted this to the Pentagon, and
the Pentagon subcontracted it to Cambone,” he said. “This is
Cambone’s deal, but Rumsfeld and Myers approved the program.” When
it came to the interrogation operation at Abu Ghraib, he said,
Rumsfeld left the details to Cambone. Rumsfeld may not be personally
culpable, the consultant added, “but he’s responsible for the checks
and balances. The issue is that, since 9/11, we’ve changed the rules
on how we deal with terrorism, and created conditions where the ends
justify the means.”
Last week, statements made by one of the seven
accused M.P.s, Specialist Jeremy Sivits, who is expected to plead
guilty, were released. In them, he claimed that senior commanders in
his unit would have stopped the abuse had they witnessed it. One of
the questions that will be explored at any trial, however, is why a
group of Army Reserve military policemen, most of them from small
towns, tormented their prisoners as they did, in a manner that was
especially humiliating for Iraqi men.
The notion that Arabs are particularly vulnerable to sexual
humiliation became a talking point among pro-war Washington
conservatives in the months before the March, 2003, invasion of
Iraq. One book that was frequently cited was “The Arab Mind,” a
study of Arab culture and psychology, first published in 1973, by
Raphael Patai, a cultural anthropologist who taught at, among other
universities, Columbia and Princeton, and who died in 1996. The book
includes a twenty-five-page chapter on Arabs and sex, depicting sex
as a taboo vested with shame and repression. “The segregation of the
sexes, the veiling of the women . . . and all the other minute rules
that govern and restrict contact between men and women, have the
effect of making sex a prime mental preoccupation in the Arab
world,” Patai wrote. Homosexual activity, “or any indication of
homosexual leanings, as with all other expressions of sexuality, is
never given any publicity. These are private affairs and remain in
private.” The Patai book, an academic told me, was “the bible of the
neocons on Arab behavior.” In their discussions, he said, two themes
emerged—“one, that Arabs only understand force and, two, that the
biggest weakness of Arabs is shame and humiliation.”
The government consultant said that there may have been a serious
goal, in the beginning, behind the sexual humiliation and the posed
photographs. It was thought that some prisoners would do
anything—including spying on their associates—to avoid dissemination
of the shameful photos to family and friends. The government
consultant said, “I was told that the purpose of the photographs was
to create an army of informants, people you could insert back in the
population.” The idea was that they would be motivated by fear of
exposure, and gather information about pending insurgency action,
the consultant said. If so, it wasn’t effective; the insurgency
continued to grow.
“This shit has been brewing for months,” the Pentagon consultant
who has dealt with saps told me. “You
don’t keep prisoners naked in their cell and then let them get
bitten by dogs. This is sick.” The consultant explained that he and
his colleagues, all of whom had served for years on active duty in
the military, had been appalled by the misuse of Army guard dogs
inside Abu Ghraib. “We don’t raise kids to do things like that. When
you go after Mullah Omar, that’s one thing. But when you give the
authority to kids who don’t know the rules, that’s another.”
In 2003, Rumsfeld’s apparent disregard for the requirements of
the Geneva Conventions while carrying out the war on terror had led
a group of senior military legal officers from the Judge Advocate
General’s (jag) Corps to pay two
surprise visits within five months to Scott Horton, who was then
chairman of the New York City Bar Association’s Committee on
International Human Rights. “They wanted us to challenge the Bush
Administration about its standards for detentions and
interrogation,” Horton told me. “They were urging us to get involved
and speak in a very loud voice. It came pretty much out of the blue.
The message was that conditions are ripe for abuse, and it’s going
to occur.” The military officials were most alarmed about the
growing use of civilian contractors in the interrogation process,
Horton recalled. “They said there was an atmosphere of legal
ambiguity being created as a result of a policy decision at the
highest levels in the Pentagon. The jag
officers were being cut out of the policy formulation process.” They
told him that, with the war on terror, a fifty-year history of
exemplary application of the Geneva Conventions had come to an end.
The abuses at Abu Ghraib were exposed on January
13th, when Joseph Darby, a young military policeman assigned to Abu
Ghraib, reported the wrongdoing to the Army’s Criminal
Investigations Division. He also turned over a CD full of
photographs. Within three days, a report made its way to Donald
Rumsfeld, who informed President Bush.
The inquiry presented a dilemma for the Pentagon. The C.I.D. had
to be allowed to continue, the former intelligence official said.
“You can’t cover it up. You have to prosecute these guys for being
off the reservation. But how do you prosecute them when they were
covered by the special-access program? So you hope that maybe it’ll
go away.” The Pentagon’s attitude last January, he said, was
“Somebody got caught with some photos. What’s the big deal? Take
care of it.” Rumsfeld’s explanation to the White House, the official
added, was reassuring: “‘We’ve got a glitch in the program. We’ll
prosecute it.’ The cover story was that some kids got out of
control.”
In their testimony before Congress last week, Rumsfeld and
Cambone struggled to convince the legislators that Miller’s visit to
Baghdad in late August had nothing to do with the subsequent abuse.
Cambone sought to assure the Senate Armed Services Committee that
the interplay between Miller and Lieutenant General Ricardo Sanchez,
the top U.S. commander in Iraq, had only a casual connection to his
office. Miller’s recommendations, Cambone said, were made to
Sanchez. His own role, he said, was mainly to insure that the “flow
of intelligence back to the commands” was “efficient and effective.”
He added that Miller’s goal was “to provide a safe, secure and
humane environment that supports the expeditious collection of
intelligence.”
It was a hard sell. Senator Hillary Clinton, Democrat of New
York, posed the essential question facing the senators:
If, indeed, General Miller was
sent from Guantánamo to Iraq for the purpose of acquiring more
actionable intelligence from detainees, then it is fair to conclude
that the actions that are at point here in your report [on abuses at
Abu Ghraib] are in some way connected to General Miller’s arrival
and his specific orders, however they were interpreted, by those MPs
and the military intelligence that were involved.. . .Therefore, I
for one don’t believe I yet have adequate information from Mr.
Cambone and the Defense Department as to exactly what General
Miller’s orders were . . . how he carried out those orders, and the
connection between his arrival in the fall of ’03 and the intensity
of the abuses that occurred afterward.
Sometime before the Abu Ghraib abuses became public, the former
intelligence official told me, Miller was “read in”—that is,
briefed—on the special-access operation. In April, Miller returned
to Baghdad to assume control of the Iraqi prisons; once the scandal
hit, with its glaring headlines, General Sanchez presented him to
the American and international media as the general who would clean
up the Iraqi prison system and instill respect for the Geneva
Conventions. “His job is to save what he can,” the former official
said. “He’s there to protect the program while limiting any loss of
core capability.” As for Antonio Taguba, the former intelligence
official added, “He goes into it not knowing shit. And then: ‘Holy
cow! What’s going on?’”
If General Miller had been summoned by Congress to testify, he,
like Rumsfeld and Cambone, would not have been able to mention the
special-access program. “If you give away the fact that a
special-access program exists,”the former intelligence official told
me, “you blow the whole quick-reaction program.”
One puzzling aspect of Rumsfeld’s account of his initial reaction
to news of the Abu Ghraib investigation was his lack of alarm and
lack of curiosity. One factor may have been recent history: there
had been many previous complaints of prisoner abuse from
organization like Human Rights Watch and the International Red
Cross, and the Pentagon had weathered them with ease. Rumsfeld told
the Senate Armed Services Committee that he had not been provided
with details of alleged abuses until late March, when he read the
specific charges. “You read it, as I say, it’s one thing. You see
these photographs and it’s just unbelievable. . . . It wasn’t
three-dimensional. It wasn’t video. It wasn’t color. It was quite a
different thing.” The former intelligence official said that, in his
view, Rumsfeld and other senior Pentagon officials had not studied
the photographs because “they thought what was in there was
permitted under the rules of engagement,” as applied to the
sap. “The photos,” he added, “turned
out to be the result of the program run amok.”
The former intelligence official made it clear that he was not
alleging that Rumsfeld or General Myers knew that atrocities were
committed. But, he said, “it was their permission granted to do the
sap, generically, and there was
enough ambiguity, which permitted the abuses.”
This official went on, “The black guys”—those in the Pentagon’s
secret program—“say we’ve got to accept the prosecution. They’re
vaccinated from the reality.” The sap
is still active, and “the United States is picking up guys for
interrogation. The question is, how do they protect the
quick-reaction force without blowing its cover?” The program was
protected by the fact that no one on the outside was allowed to know
of its existence. “If you even give a hint that you’re aware of a
black program that you’re not read into, you lose your clearances,”
the former official said. “Nobody will talk. So the only people left
to prosecute are those who are undefended—the poor kids at the end
of the food chain.”
The most vulnerable senior official is Cambone. “The Pentagon is
trying now to protect Cambone, and doesn’t know how to do it,” the
former intelligence official said.
Last week, the government consultant, who has close
ties to many conservatives, defended the Administration’s continued
secrecy about the special-access program in Abu Ghraib. “Why keep it
black?” the consultant asked. “Because the process is unpleasant.
It’s like making sausage—you like the result but you don’t want to
know how it was made. Also, you don’t want the Iraqi public, and the
Arab world, to know. Remember, we went to Iraq to democratize the
Middle East. The last thing you want to do is let the Arab world
know how you treat Arab males in prison.”
The former intelligence official told me he feared that one of
the disastrous effects of the prison-abuse scandal would be the
undermining of legitimate operations in the war on terror, which had
already suffered from the draining of resources into Iraq. He
portrayed Abu Ghraib as “a tumor” on the war on terror. He said, “As
long as it’s benign and contained, the Pentagon can deal with the
photo crisis without jeopardizing the secret program. As soon as it
begins to grow, with nobody to diagnose it—it becomes a malignant
tumor.”
The Pentagon consultant made a similar point. Cambone and his
superiors, the consultant said, “created the conditions that allowed
transgressions to take place. And now we’re going to end up with
another Church Commission”—the 1975 Senate committee on
intelligence, headed by Senator Frank Church, of Idaho, which
investigated C.I.A. abuses during the previous two decades. Abu
Ghraib had sent the message that the Pentagon leadership was unable
to handle its discretionary power. “When the shit hits the fan, as
it did on 9/11, how do you push the pedal?” the consultant asked.
“You do it selectively and with intelligence.”
“Congress is going to get to the bottom of this,” the Pentagon
consultant said. “You have to demonstrate that there are checks and
balances in the system.” He added, “When you live in a world of gray
zones, you have to have very clear red lines.”
Senator John McCain, of Arizona, said, “If this is true, it
certainly increases the dimension of this issue and deserves
significant scrutiny. I will do all possible to get to the bottom of
this, and all other allegations.”
“In an odd way,” Kenneth Roth, the executive director of Human
Rights Watch, said, “the sexual abuses at Abu Ghraib have become a
diversion for the prisoner abuse and the violation of the Geneva
Conventions that is authorized.” Since September 11th, Roth added,
the military has systematically used third-degree techniques around
the world on detainees. “Some jags
hate this and are horrified that the tolerance of mistreatment will
come back and haunt us in the next war,” Roth told me. “We’re giving
the world a ready-made excuse to ignore the Geneva Conventions.
Rumsfeld has lowered the bar.”