Indefinite detention

Butler's chapter on indefinite detention was fundamentally disturbing. When I recited the section on the incident between the Department of Defense Counsel and the reporter (described on p. 74-75) to my roommate, she ground her teeth a little and cheerily sang "I hate the U.S.!" a couple times. (She's a Justice major, so the absolute mockery Guantanamo has made of our legal system actually upsets her. Who'd have thought?)

I agree with John that Butler is wrong about the scope of international law. She talks about how what we're doing is unlawful, and (sadly) it's not. This hurt her credibility a lot with me, but then again, so did her writing style (which, as pointed out by the other two members of this blog, is a bit rambly and incoherent at times). Nonetheless, I'm glad to have read it, because I wasn't familiar with the topic, and although I can't call myself "familiar" with it now I want officially to learn more.

When I started reading, I wasn't sure if one couuld call indefinite detention "immoral" per se, since the American tradition of granting a trial is based on legal procedure, not the morality of the involved personnel. In fact, when stacked juries and deceptive attorneys are the norm rather than the exception, one could question whether trials serve any purpose. However, in comparison to what's going on at Guantanamo, trials are just fabulous. Butler indicates that at the time of her writing, it had just been announced that six out of the 650 detainees who've been in custody for over a year were on track to get a trial (51). In other words, they've spent a year being held for a crime that they might not have committed, and no one's bothered to make a decision because it's easier to just leave them there. A trial would give everyone involved the opportunity to make a case and use actual evidence to arrive at a plan for what to do with the individuals. But there's the problem - we don't really consider this people "human" or "individual" enough to need a trial.

However, that might just be a very American way of thinking about it (the assumption that no one's committed a crime unless a jury says so). After all, I'm not an expert on how one comes to be put in Guantanamo; it's possible that people are only imprisoned there if the people who captured them are really, really sure that they did something bad. But the excerpt that infuriated my Justice major roommate so very much casts doubt on that idea. In it, the Department of Defense Counsel said, and I quote, "The people that we now hold at Guantanamo are held for a specific reason that is not tied specifically to any particular crime. They're not held... on the basis that they are necessarily criminals" (75). WHAT? I'd love to see what they are held on the basis of, then. Wasn't there a futuristic movie about detaining people on the basis that they might do harm in the future?

I'm not naive enough to think, however, that there isn't good reason to hold many of these people. I'm not particularly sympathetic to the terrorist agenda. However, I think we should treat them like humans -- not because they deserve it, but because if we don't, we won't start approaching a slippery slope so much as we'll start freefalling, and also because we're going to further the resentment that bred terrorism in the first place.

Finally, I'd like to quote one of Erin's much earlier posts: "I think that government controls and manipulates the law, and even worse has the ability to work entirely outside of the law – extradicial renditions, wiretapping, holding prisoners at guantanamo government– those who look to the supreme court I say to you 'what has the Supreme Court ever done when these action where occurring?'" I wholeheartedly agree. In fact, the Supreme Court just declined to hear the case of two detainees. Of course, they don't want to touch Guantanamo with a ten foot pole, and while I don't blame them for being averse to getting involved in such a politically sensitive situation, they're the damn Supreme Court, it's their job.