Kafka Would Shake His Head

"The Central Intelligence Agency has told a federal court that Qaeda suspects should not be permitted to describe publicly the 'alternative interrogation methods' used in secret C.I.A. prisons overseas"--The New York Times.

The CIA and the Justice Department argue that allowing alleged--let's not forget that pesky word--terrorists to reveal details of their torture, uh, treatment, would permit as-yet-uncaught terrorists to figure out ways to counter our interrogation methods.

On one level, that is ridiculous. If you're going to be water-boarded, how are you going to prevent the feeling of being drowned--especially because, in effect, you ARE being drowned--learn to hold your breath longer? And knowing about methods of interrogation has not helped prisoners in the past. People knew all about thubmscrews and the rack and good old whips for generations, but those implements still proved effective in extracting information. Maybe not accurate information, but that's always the problem with torture, whether you're talking about pulling out fingernails or applying electric shocks to a prisoner's private parts.

On another level, the government's argument reveals an exaltation of the ends that obscures all concern with means, an approach that is all too easy but should be anathema to civilized nations, particularly democracies.

But perhaps most disturbing is that the people who are making this argument--and those who direct them--have lost sight of what America is all about.

In 1944, when the United States faced a much greater challenge than it does now, Earl Robinson and Lewis Allan wrote a song called, "The House I Live In." Its lyrics can seem campy, but they captured a truth that eludes those in power in the United States today: America is much more than a place. It is, most of all, an idea.

What is America to me?
A name, a map, or a flag I see;
A certain word, democracy.
What is America to me?

...

The house I live in,
My neighbors white and black,
The people who just came here,
Or from generations back;
The town hall and the soapbox,
The torch of liberty,A home for all God's children;
That's America to me.

That song has meant a lot to me, because I learned it from a record by Paul Robeson that my parents had; if you ever heard Robeson, you'll know what I mean. Frank Sinatra had a hit with the song, but the lyrics in his version were sanitized by cutting out a couple of verses that Robeson sang, and including a couple of the more pedestrian verses that Robeson omitted.

(In an ironic twist, Gov. Tom Kean of New Jersey quoted from "The House I Live In" at the Republican convention in 1998. The archives of The New York Times contain a letter to the editor from Earl Robinson, commenting on that. "I need to say that we did not write the song for Republicans exclusively. Nor for Democrats or any other 'ism,'' but rather for people of all stripes and colors, all or no political beliefs, ''All races and religions, that's America to me.' And while I will probably not vote for Mr. Bush this November, I wish to thank Mr. Kean and the Republicans for quoting from my song. It is living proof that a song may transcend politics and give a message to all Americans and people everywhere, as to what our country is all about.")

CLARIFICATION: The Washington Post makes it clear that the government is arguing that the need to keep its interrogation methods secret should block at least "high-value" detainees (i.e., the ones recently transferred to Guantanamo from secret CIA prisons) from even seeing their lawyers. Remember, this is the nation that declares itself on the side of freedom.