First They Came
For The Terrorists...
by Thom Hartmann
www.OpEdNews.com
The Gonzales confirmation
is not just about the
torture memos. It's much
bigger than that.
If Bush continues to roll
back human and civil rights
- and the installation of
Alberto Gonzalez as
America's chief law
enforcement officer is very
much a part of his campaign
to do so - we may be facing
a "Pastor Niemöller moment"
sooner than most of us could
have imagined.
Tuesday, January 10,
2005, is the third
anniversary of the opening
of America's first
concentration camp since
Japanese Americans were
shamefully interred during
WWII. Since the first camp
was opened, the Bush
administration has built
additional concentration
camps - the latest known as
Camp Five - in Cuba, and is
asking Congress for $29
million to build
Concentration Camp Six.
These concentration camps
detain uncharged, untried,
unconvicted individuals, who
may be held for the rest of
their lives because, as the
UK's
Guardian newspaper noted
on January 5th of this year,
the Bush administration
"lacks proof" that they are
either criminals or POWs.
This is one of the more
visible parts of a much
larger campaign the Bush
administration has embarked
on to reverse not only 229
years of the American rule
of law regarding the rights
of average citizens, but
nearly eight centuries of
human rights that go back to
an epic moment in 1215 on a
meadow by the River Thames.
The modern institution of
civil and human rights, and
particularly the writ of
habeas corpus, began in June
of 1215 when King John was
forced by the feudal lords
to sign the Magna Carta at
Runnymede. Although that
document mostly protected
"freemen" - what were then
known as feudal lords or
barons, and today known as
CEOs and millionaires -
rather than the average
person, it initiated a
series of events that echo
to this day.
Two of the most critical
parts of the Magna Carta
were articles 38 and 39,
which established the
foundation for what is now
known as "habeas corpus"
laws (literally, "produce
the body" from the Latin -
meaning, broadly, "let this
person go free"), as well as
the Fourth through Eighth
Amendments of our
Constitution and hundreds of
other federal and state due
process provisions.
Articles 38 and 39 of the
Magna Carta said:
"38 In future no
official shall place a man
on trial upon his own
unsupported statement,
without producing credible
witnesses to the truth of
it.
"39 No free man shall
be seized or imprisoned,
or stripped of his rights
or possessions, or
outlawed or exiled, or
deprived of his standing
in any other way, nor will
we proceed with force
against him, or send
others to do so, except by
the lawful judgment of his
equals or by the law of
the land."
This was radical stuff,
and over the next four
hundred years average people
increasingly wanted for
themselves these same
protections from the abuse
of the power of government
or great wealth. But from
1215 to 1628, outside of the
privileges enjoyed by the
feudal lords, the average
person could be arrested and
imprisoned at the whim of
the king with no recourse to
the courts.
Then, in 1627, King
Charles I overstepped, and
the people snapped. Charles
I threw into jail five
knights in a tax
disagreement, and the
knights sued the King,
asserting their habeas
corpus right to be free or
on bail unless convicted of
a crime.
King Charles I, in
response, invoked his right
to simply imprison anybody
he wanted (other than the
rich), anytime he wanted, as
he said, "per speciale
Mandatum Domini Regis."
This is essentially the
same argument that George W.
Bush makes today for why he
has the right to detain both
citizens and non-citizens
solely on his own say-so:
because he's in charge. And
it's an argument supported
by Alberto Gonzales.
But just as George's
decree is meeting
resistance, Charles' decree
wasn't well received. The
result of his overt assault
on the rights of citizens
led to a sort of revolt in
the British Parliament,
producing the 1628 "Petition
of Right" law, an early
version of our Fourth
through Eighth Amendments,
which restated Articles 38
and 39 of the Magna Carta
and added that "writs of
habeas corpus, [are] there
to undergo and receive
[only] as the court should
order." It was later
strengthened with the
"Habeas Corpus Act of 1640"
and a second "Habeas Corpus
Act of 1679."
Thus, the right to
suspend habeas corpus no
longer was held by the King.
It was exercised solely by
the people's (elected and
hereditary) representatives
in the Parliament.
The third George to
govern the United Kingdom
confronted this in 1815 when
he came into possession of
Napoleon Bonaparte. But the
British laws were so
explicit that everybody was
entitled to habeas corpus -
even people who were not
British citizens - that when
Napoleon surrendered on the
deck of the British flagship
Bellerophon after the battle
of Waterloo in 1815, the
British Parliament had to
pass a law ("An Act For The
More Effectually Detaining
In Custody Napoleon
Bonaparte") to suspend
habeas corpus so King George
III could legally continue
to hold him prisoner (and
then legally exile him to a
British fortification on a
distant island).
Ironically, the third
George to govern the United
States now says, 190 years
later, that unlike England's
George III, he does not need
an act of Congress to detain
people or exile them to
camps on a distant island.
To facilitate this, our
Third George, and his able
counselor Judge Gonzales,
have brought forth new
"legal" terms - "enemy
combatant" and "terrorist" -
and invented a new set of
law and rights (or non-laws
and non-rights) for people
they label as such.
It's a virtual repeat of
Charles I's doctrine that a
nation's ruler may do
whatever he wants because
he's the one in charge - "per
speciale Mandatum Domini
Regis."
Interestingly, the United
States Constitution does
provide for special
exceptions to the
involuntary detention of
persons - it is legal to
suspend habeas corpus. But
the Constitution says it can
only be done by Congress,
not by the President.
Article I of the
Constitution outlines the
powers and limits of the
Legislative Branch of
government (Article 2 lays
out the Executive Branch,
and Article 3 defines the
Judicial Branch). In Section
9, Clause 2 of Article I,
the Constitution says of the
Legislative branch's
authority: "The Privilege of
the Writ of Habeas Corpus
shall not be suspended,
unless when in Cases of
Rebellion or Invasion the
public Safety may require
it."
Abraham Lincoln was well
aware of this during the
Civil War, and was the first
president to successfully
ask Congress (on March 3,
1863) to suspend habeas
corpus so he could imprison
those he considered a threat
until the war was over.
Congress invoked this power
again during Reconstruction
when President Grant
requested The Ku Klux Klan
Act in 1871 to put down a
rebellion in South Carolina.
But President George W.
Bush has not asked Congress
for, and has not been
granted, a suspension of
habeas corpus for his
so-called "war on
terrorism," a "war" which he
and his advisors have
implied may last well beyond
our lifetimes.
Nonetheless, our
President, with consent of
his Counsel Mr. Gonzales,
has locked people up, "per
speciale Mandatum Domini
Regis." Some of their
names are familiar to us -
US citizens Jose Padilla and
Yaser Hamdi, for example -
but there are hundreds whose
names we are not even
allowed to know. Perhaps
thousands. It's a state
secret, after all. Per
speciale Mandatum Domini
Regis.
But how do we deal with
people who want to kill us,
to destroy our nation, to
terrorize us?
Every president from
George Washington to Bill
Clinton has understood that
there are two categories of
people who can be
incarcerated legally -
Prisoners of War and
criminals. The former have
rights under both U.S. law
and the Geneva Conventions,
and the latter under the
U.S. Constitution.
These two categories
encompass every possible
actual threat to a nation
and its people, and have
withstood the test of time
from the days of King John
to today.
For example, when Bill
Clinton was confronted with
a heinous act of terrorism
within the United States -
the bombing of the Federal
Building in Oklahoma City -
he didn't declare a "war" on
whoever the terrorist may
be, or suspend habeas
corpus. Instead, he
immediately defined the
perpetrators as thugs and
criminals, and brought the
full weight of the American
and international criminal
justice system to bear,
capturing Timothy McVeigh
and using Interpol to search
the world for possible
McVeigh allies. Justice was
served, the victims achieved
closure, and our rights were
left largely intact.
But, just as Hitler and
his close advisors used the
burning of the Reichstag
building to declare a
perpetual "war on
terrorism," and then moved
to suspend habeas corpus and
other rights, so too have
George W. Bush and Alberto
Gonzales.
The Founders must be
turning in their graves.
Clearly they never imagined
such a thing in their
wildest dreams. As Alexander
Hamilton - arguably the most
conservative of the Founders
- wrote in Federalist 84:
"The establishment of
the writ of habeas corpus
... are perhaps greater
securities to liberty and
republicanism than any it
[the Constitution]
contains. ...[T]he
practice of arbitrary
imprisonments have been,
in all ages, the favorite
and most formidable
instruments of tyranny.
The observations of the
judicious [British 18th
century legal scholar]
Blackstone, in reference
to the latter, are well
worthy of recital:
"'To bereave a man of
life,' says he, 'or by
violence to confiscate his
estate, without accusation
or trial, would be so
gross and notorious an act
of despotism, as must at
once convey the alarm of
tyranny throughout the
whole nation; but
confinement of the person,
by secretly hurrying him
to jail, where his
sufferings are unknown or
forgotten, is a less
public, a less striking,
and therefore A MORE
DANGEROUS ENGINE of
arbitrary government.'''
[Capitals all Hamilton's
from the original.]
While the sexy stuff that
members of Congress and the
news media want to talk
about when they question
Alberto Gonzales is torture
- after all, the pictures
are now iconic and have
worldwide distribution - the
torture of these and other
prisoners in US custody is
really a subset of a larger
issue.
The bigger question here
is whether George W. Bush
has the right to ignore the
U.S. Constitution and
international treaties,
violate human rights and
civil liberties, promote
"preemptive" wars, and build
concentration camps for the
permanent imprisonment of
untried and unconvicted
individuals - all simply
because he says he can,
per speciale Mandatum Domini
Regis. And whether we
want the chief law
enforcement officer of the
land, the man who would be
charged with prosecuting
Bush or those in his
administration who may break
the law, to be a man who
agrees that Bush stands
above the law and the
Constitution.
The question, ultimately,
is whether our nation will
continue to stand for the
values upon which it was
founded.
Early American
conservatives suggested that
democracy was so ultimately
weak it couldn't withstand
the assault of newspaper
editors and citizens who
spoke out against it, or
terrorists from the Islamic
Barbary Coast, leading John
Adams to pass America's
first PATRIOT Act-like laws,
the Alien and Sedition Acts
of 1798. President Thomas
Jefferson rebuked those who
wanted America ruled by an
iron-handed presidency that
could -
as Adams had - throw
people in jail for "crimes"
such as speaking political
opinion, or without
constitutional due process.
"I know, indeed,"
Jefferson said in his
first inaugural address on
March 4, 1801, "that
some honest men fear that
a republican government
cannot be strong; that
this government is not
strong enough. ...
"I believe this, on the
contrary, the strongest
government on earth. I
believe it is the only one
where every man, at the
call of the laws, would
fly to the standard of the
law, and would meet
invasions of the public
order as his own personal
concern."
The sum of this,
Jefferson said, was found
in "freedom of person
under the protection of
the habeas corpus; and
trial by juries
impartially selected.
These principles form the
bright constellation which
has gone before us, and
guided our steps through
an age of revolution and
reformation.
"The wisdom of our
sages and the blood of our
heroes have been devoted
to their attainment. They
should be the creed of our
political faith, the text
of civil instruction, the
touchstone by which to try
the services of those we
trust; and should we
wander from them in
moments of error or alarm,
let us hasten to retrace
our steps and to regain
the road which alone leads
to peace, liberty, and
safety."
Modern conservatives
still revere Burke and Adams
and sneer at Jefferson, but
many are nonetheless alarmed
by Bush's unprecedented
attack on the Constitution.
As Russell Kirk wrote in his
seminal 1953 book "The
Conservative Mind" - the
book which inspired a
generation of conservatives
from Buckley to Goldwater -
a "New Society," abandoning
the traditional values of
America, could easily come
into being if "radicals"
such as Bush were to take
over our government and
discard the Constitution.
This New Society, Kirk
wrote in his chapter "The
Promise of Conservatism,"
would be dominated by "the
gratification of a lust for
power and the destruction of
all ancient political
institutions in the interest
of the new dominant elites.
The great Plan requires that
the public be kept
constantly in an emotional
state closely resembling
that of a nation at war;
this lacking, obedience and
co-operation shrivel..."
Kirk adds that "Big Brother
remains to show the donkey
the stick instead of the
carrot."
When I was working in
Russia some years ago, a
friend in Kaliningrad told
me a perhaps apocryphal
story about Nakita Kruschev,
who, following Stalin's
death, gave a speech to the
Politburo denouncing
Stalin's policies. A few
minutes into Kruschev's
diatribe, somebody shouted
out, "Why didn't you
challenge him then, the way
you are now?"
The room fell silent, as
Kruschev angrily swept the
audience with his glare.
"Who said that?" he asked in
a reasoned voice. Silence.
"Who said that?" Kruschev
demanded, leaning forward.
Silence.
Pounding his fist on the
podium to accent each word,
he screamed, "Who - said -
that?" Still no answer.
Finally, after a long and
strained silence, the
elected politicians in the
room fearful to even cough,
a corner of Kruschev's mouth
lifted into a smile.
"Now you know," he said
with a chuckle, "why I did
not speak up against Stalin
when I sat where you now
sit."
The question for our day
- as in Jefferson's - is who
will speak up against George
W. Bush and his Stalinist
policies? Who will speak
against the man who punishes
reporters and news
organizations by cutting off
their access; who punishes
politicians by targeting
them in their home
districts; who punishes
truth-tellers in the
Executive branch by
character assassination that
even extends to destroying
their spouse's careers?
Oddly, so far it's only
been Justice Antonin Scalia,
a man with whom I often
strongly disagree.
Scalia wrote in his minority
dissent in the case of
Hamdi v. Rumsfeld that
the President does not have
the power to suspend habeas
corpus by executive decree.
Instead, he wrote: "If civil
rights are to be curtailed
during wartime, it must be
done openly and
democratically, as the
Constitution requires..."
Scalia went on to quote
Alexander Hamilton from
Federalist Number 8, who
noted that:
"The violent
destruction of life and
property incident to war;
the continual effort and
alarm attendant on a state
of continual danger, will
compel nations the most
attached to liberty, to
resort for repose and
security to institutions
which have a tendency to
destroy their civil and
political rights. To be
more safe, they, at
length, become willing to
run the risk of being less
free."
"The Founders warned us
about the risk,"
Scalia noted in his Hamdi
dissent, "and equipped
us with a Constitution
designed to deal with it.
"Many think it not only
inevitable but entirely
proper that liberty give
way to security in times
of national crisis..."
but, Scalia added,
"that view has no
place in the
interpretation and
application of a
Constitution designed
precisely to confront war
and, in a manner that
accords with democratic
principles, to accommodate
it."
How ironic that Justice
Scalia was willing to stand
up to George W. Bush and
Alberto Gonzales, but most
of the Senate Democrats
won't.
The Democrats in Congress
say they're going to confirm
Judge Gonzales and "keep
their powder dry" for
future, larger battles like
Supreme Court nominations.
But as Pastor Niemöller
reminds us, the loss of
liberty is incremental, not
sudden and dramatic.
One either totally stands
for republican democracy,
the Constitution, and the
rule of law in our republic,
or one doesn't. Gonzales has
shown that he does not, both
by his prevarication in his
confirmation hearings, his
actions in condoning Bush's
illegal suspension of habeas
corpus and PATRIOT Act
abuses of
constitutionally-protected
civil and human rights, and
his support of other Bush
decrees implicitly per
speciale Mandatum Domini
Regis.
To quote Scalia's summary
in the Hamdi case, "Because
the Court has proceeded to
meet the current emergency
in a manner the Constitution
does not envision [by
letting the President
suspend habeas corpus], I
respectfully dissent."
But is dissent enough?
Or must we work for a
wholesale change in our
representatives, demanding
that they either stand up
for the principles for which
so many Americans have
fought and died, or leave
the political arena
altogether?
Where are the true
democrats among the
Democrats? (Or, for that
matter, the true republicans
among the Republicans?) Have
they all lost their voices?
First Bush and Gonzales
came for the terrorists, but
I was not a terrorist, so I
did not speak out. Then they
came for the enemy
combatants, but I was not a
combatant, so I did not
object. Then they came for
the protestors resisting
"free speech zones" near
Bush campaign rallies, but I
was not a protestor and so I
only voiced my unease.
If we - and our elected
representatives - do not
speak out now, loudly and
forcefully, it may not be
long before they come for
the rest of us.
Thom Hartmann [thom
(at) thomhartmann.com] is a
Project Censored
Award-winning best-selling
author and host of a
nationally syndicated daily
progressive talk show.
www.thomhartmann.com His
most recent books include "The
Last Hours of Ancient
Sunlight," "The
Prophet's Way," "Unequal
Protection," "We
The People," "The
Edison Gene", and "What
Would Jefferson Do?."