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Friday, April 18, 2008

Domesticating Torture and the John Yoo Affair

Talk has been circulating about John Yoo and tenure. Based on allegations that he has committed war crimes, that he has provided shoddy legal advice to the detriment of the country, and that he has advocated morally reprehensible views, some advocate that he be fired from Berkeley’s Boalt Hall School of Law. I don’t want to wade into this controversy (though, I’ll admit in passing that I do not agree, no matter how much I think that some of the underlying criticisms are probably correct, with firing a tenured faculty member based on such public pressure), but I do want to comment on an difficulty that Yoo’s case causes for one of the principle arguments used to justify extra-legal government action.

Oren Gross made an effective argument on how to justify extra-legal measures here. He argues that public officials may be justified in engaging in extra-legal actions during times of perceived emergency if they openly acknowledge their actions and if the public is willing ex post to ratify the actions. Even assuming that the acts of torture the Yoo memos purport to justify were committed under perceived emergency circumstances (a highly dubious proposition), the administration has only been partially open about its extra-legal actions, and it has not been willing to take responsibility ex post for having taken illegal actions. And while not admitting to engaging in war crimes and other illegal actions, the administration has worked hard to obtain ex post immunity from prosecution for those who carried out its policies (Military Commissions Act 2006, e.g.). Within Gross’s framework, Yoo’s memo is particularly pernicious because not only does it purport to provide legal cover for those engaging in what would otherwise be considered illegal actions, but it does not admit that the actions sanctioned are extra-legal, or illegal, in the first instance. By redefining the law to enable what would otherwise be considered torture, and by tendentiously purporting to define the scope of executive power, the memos shift the discussion away from holding administration officials responsible for what they actually have done. We are left playing semantic games between an administration that insists it does not torture (because its lawyers have implausibly defined torture so narrowly as to render even the most gruesome practices non-torturous), and the reality that the administration has engaged in torture (on any plausible account, and judicially sanctioned in other jurisdictions, of what constitutes torture). Thus, Jack Balkin can write, correctly I think, that there is little chance of any administration officials being held legally accountable for their actions. Is it nonetheless possible to hold administration officials responsible?

A practical problem is that in form, our present situation very much resembles Gross’s framework. The public has become aware of the administration’s actions and the internal means by which those actions were sanctioned, yet the mechanisms of responsibility have no outlet. Because of the particular difficulties of one administration holding a prior administration responsible for war crimes, and the near impossibility of the current administration pursuing any prosecutions of its own officials, there are fewer routes available for holding those officials responsible. The failure to prosecute or to have some more official public shaming, may reflect widespread public acceptance of torture, or it may reflect the fact that there are no institutional means by which the public can hold officials responsible (other than the ballot box). From this follows the misplaced desire by some to have Yoo fired. But does that mean we must leave things where they now stand? Must we accept that the official position of the U.S. government is that no one can be held responsible for acts of torture justified as necessary and sanctioned (or enabled) by the lawyers?

I think that Christopher Kutz makes a powerful point here, following the philosopher Bernard Williams, when he writes, “given a people who see slavery (or another injustice [torture]) as necessary, at least let them see it as a brute and inevitable affront to their principles, not as something their principles can domesticate and make safe to perpetuate.” Even if substantively wrong, calls for Yoo to be fired are attempts to make sure affronts to our principles do not become domesticated. If it is necessary for us to live with war criminals, or with those who have engaged in extra-legal or illegal actions, let the public sphere loudly and widely reflect the fact that we see their actions as brute and barbarous affronts to our principles.

I picked up the April Mother Jones issue last night at the grocery, and the cover story fits this theme nicely: “Torture Hits Home: When the Unthinkable Becomes Acceptable.” More than writing blog entries and law review articles like I (here and here) and others have done, I think that we do need some form of institutional accountability to ensure that torture does not become domesticated, even if no criminal charges are ever filed.

Posted by Tommy Crocker on April 18, 2008 at 11:52 AM in Constitutional thoughts, Current Affairs, Law and Politics | Permalink

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Comments

Tommy,

I'm glad to learn of your two articles, both of which I've saved to read this weekend.

Patrick

Posted by: Patrick S. O'Donnell | Apr 18, 2008 3:01:38 PM

Thanks Patrick, this is very interesting. I agree that questions about the scope of executive power are central to the torture scandal, as is the role that necessity plays. Also, Anonymous, I agree with your use of Zizek. I've written about the significance of Zizek's claim in section V of my essay, http://ssrn.com/abstract=1102495.

Posted by: Tommy Crocker | Apr 18, 2008 2:19:06 PM

I think the following suggests a larger issue beyond the "domestication of torture," namely, the Bush administration's unwavering and unabashed commitment to "a vision of the Commander in Chief's authority at its most expansive and unreviewable:"

In reading afresh Stanley Karnow's Vietnam: A History (2nd ed., 1991) I came across this nugget, which bears comparison to John Yoo's (and Jay C. Bybee's) legal work for the Bush administration, although in this instance, the constitutional blessing was after the fact:

“...[I]t was doubtful if Nixon had the authority to broaden the war [into Laos and Cambodia] without congressional endorsement--just as it was doubtful that he had the power to begin, in secrecy, the bombing of Cambodia the year before [1969]. Almost as an afterthought, he assigned the task of preparing a legal justification to William Rehnquist, an assistant attorney general, who came up with the argument that the law mandated presidents to deploy troops 'in conflict with foreign powers at their own initiative.’”

It's clear that Rehnquist's career did not suffer from providing obsequious legal dissimulation on behalf of conspicuous war crimes. Seen in this dark light, and whatever the odious ethical and legal nature of Yoo's infamous Torture Memo, it pales into comparison to crafting legal sanction for the bombing and invasion of Cambodia. (Cf. Richard Falk, ed., The Vietnam War and International Law, 3 Vols., 1968-76)

Doing a bit of research I discovered that Bruce Shapiro (http://www.thenation.com/doc/20040712/shapiro) wrote something a few years ago about the remarkable historical connection between Rehnquist's white paper, "The President and the War Power," in his capacity as head of the Office of Legal Counsel, and Assistant Attorney General Jay Bybee's Torture Memo:

"What do Nixon and Cambodia have to do with the beatings and rapes at Abu Ghraib? Ask Bybee, because it is his memo that makes the comparison with Cambodia and Rehnquist, a comparison that lays open the deeper motivations, goals and implications of the Bush Administration's interrogation policy.

The Bybee memo attempts to erect a legal scaffolding for physical and psychological coercion of prisoners in the War on Terror. Coming from the Office of Legal Counsel, it holds the authority of a policy directive. The memo proposes so finessed and technical a reading of antibrutality laws that all manner of 'cruel, inhuman or degrading' interrogation techniques--including beatings and sexual violations like those in Abu Ghraib--simply get reclassified as Not Torture. The memo's language so offends common sensibility that within a few days of its release, White House officials were disavowing its conclusions and selectively declassifying documents allegedly showing the President's commitment to humane treatment of prisoners.

Yet even while putting up a smokescreen of concern for humanitarian treatment of prisoners, the Administration made no attempt to distance itself from Bybee's most crucial theme: unreviewable presidential war powers. Anti-torture laws, the memo argues, simply do not apply to 'detentions and interrogations of enemy combatants pursuant to [Bush's] Commander-in-Chief authority.' All the documents released by the White House reflect this same obsession with presidential war powers-and in many cases, incorporate Bybee's precise language.

It is in defense of his view of the Commander in Chief's legal impunity that Bybee invokes the Cambodia precedent, citing Rehnquist's 1970 white paper as his principal authority. Rehnquist spelled out his arguments both in that memo and in an article later that year for the New York University Law Review.

One glance at the Rehnquist documents and it is easy to see why his 1970 reasoning resonates throughout the Bush Administration's 2002 and 2003 memorandums. Just as Bybee finds that torture isn't torture, Rehnquist argued that the invasion of Cambodia wasn't really an invasion: 'By crossing the Cambodian border to attack sanctuaries used by the enemy, the United States has in no sense gone to war with Cambodia.' The Bybee memo offers officials accused of torture the 'necessity' defense; in 1970, Rehnquist argued that pursuing Vietcong troops into previously neutral territory was 'necessary to assure [American troops'] safety in the field.'

In particular, Rehnquist offered the Nixon White House a bold vision of the Commander in Chief's authority at its most expansive and unreviewable: The President's war power, he wrote acerbically, must amount to 'something greater than a seat of honor in the reviewing stand.' Cambodia--where the devastation of the war and the Nixon Administration's carpet-bombing following the invasion would prepare the way for the Khmer Rouge holocaust--amounted to 'the sort of tactical decision traditionally confided to the commander in chief.'

For Rehnquist, the invasion of Cambodia in May of 1970 was a dual watershed. On the one hand, it marked the greatest assertion of expansive presidential warmaking power, crystallized in the white paper cited by Bybee. At the same time, protests against the Cambodian invasion led Nixon to centralize the gathering of domestic political intelligence directly in the White House; Rehnquist supported this domestic expansion of executive-branch authority, arguing in court for no-knock entry, preventive detention, wiretaps and other ancestors of today's Patriot Act.

The authority of Nixon and his successors was soon curtailed--at least on paper--by reform-minded legislation: the War Powers Act, the Freedom of Information Act, CIA reform, the War Crimes Act and a host of other statutes. And ever since the invasion of Cambodia, a parade of conservative policy-makers--among them Rehnquist, Rumsfeld and Vice President Dick Cheney--have repeatedly sought to regain the expansive presidential power asserted in Rehnquist's memo.

This is what is really at stake in the torture scandal. The circle of history has come around: The Bush Administration's theory of unconstrained war powers connects straight back to its Nixonian origins.

[....] The Bush Administration's memos not only facilitate torture as public policy. Like the Nixon Administration in 1970, they articulate a philosophy of the presidency best described as authoritarian. That is the hidden message of Abu Ghraib."

Posted by: Patrick S. O'Donnell | Apr 18, 2008 2:07:27 PM

If the real concern is that torture is becoming banal, it seems to me that Yoo's work in creating legal cover for torture is only part of the problem. We should also be concerned with those like Alan Dershowitz who have contended that the acceptability of torture is appropriate for debate. Slavoj Zizek has argued that it's when we put the matter up for discussion that we really go off the deep end--what had previously been totally and completely unacceptable has suddenly become something about which reasonable minds can differ. On this basis Zizek argues that torture should never be legal, even when it is clearly morally justified. In other words, if you're ever faced with the classic "man who knows" scenario, where torturing one guy could save 5 million people, you should do it, but the state should not legitimize the act in advance. If it does so, we may lose our grip on the guilt that should be a necessary complement to the act of torture.

Posted by: Anonymous | Apr 18, 2008 1:38:57 PM

Parenthetically, the fact that Henry Kissinger has never been tried for war crimes and crimes against humanity makes it extremely unlikely that either Yoo or Bybee or anyone else in the Bush administration, including the President himself, will ever be held to account....

Incidentally, your point that "If it is necessary for us to live with war criminals, or with those who have engaged in extra-legal or illegal actions, let the public sphere loudly and widely reflect the fact that we see their actions as brute and barbarous affronts to our principles," is similar to the point I made on a post on this subject at Ratio Juris: "I agree [at this juncture at least] that formal academic sanctions against Yoo are unwarranted (and would probably backfire in some manner down the road) and thus the "marginalization" of Yoo by fellow legal academics is an appropriate response as a shaming mechanism that serves to enforce professional and ethical norms while reiterating the minimal conditions for a constitutionally sound legal argument qua legal argument." Of course the public sphere is far greater than the academic world, and thus I agree with you on this extension of the loud proclamation of a conspicuous affront to our shared ethical convictions. See: http://ratiojuris.blogspot.com/2008/04/office-of-legal-counsel-from-vietnam.html

Posted by: Patrick S. O'Donnell | Apr 18, 2008 12:13:01 PM

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