Bret Stephens makes the disturbing and alas increasingly popular point that it is dangerous to define torture down because it makes it difficult to fight efficiently terrorism:
But by maintaining the "distinction between 'torture' and 'inhuman or degrading treatment,' " the court sought to preserve the "special stigma [attached] to deliberate inhuman treatment causing very serious and cruel suffering."
These distinctions are not "legal sophistries," as the Times would have it. They are a juridical necessity to ensure that our definition of torture does not become so diluted as to render its prohibition unenforceable. But the abuse of the word does have its rhetorical uses: As with the militant anti-abortion movement, which believes that every abortion is murder and thus that every abortionist is a "murderer," the Times editorialists and their fellow travelers would characterize anyone who favors so much as touching a hair on 9/11 mastermind Khalid Sheikh Mohammed's head as "pro-torture." This isn't argument. It's moral bullying.
For the record, count me as one who does not object to the interrogation to which KSM was reportedly subjected, including waterboarding. This is not because I take the use of waterboarding lightly (although I have a hard time concluding that a technique, however terrifying, to which CIA officers are willing to subject themselves experimentally can properly be counted as torture). It's because I take the threat posed by KSM seriously.
That makes it difficult for me to subscribe to the "So be it" line of reasoning. Taken seriously, it says that the civilized world would be better off sustaining a nuclear 9/11 than tarnishing its good name, that righteous victimhood is a finer thing than an innocent life saved through morally compromised methods, and that self-preservation is not the most fundamental requirement of democratic life.
H.D.S. Greenway answers Stephen’s points by focusing on the effectiveness of torture and the image of the United States:
The trouble with torture is that a prisoner will say anything he thinks you may want to hear. Take Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, a planner of the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks. After being severely tortured he has confessed to such a wide-ranging number of crimes as to be unbelievable.
The long-range problem with the Bush administration's efforts to subvert national and international bans on torture is that it hurts us deeply in the struggle against Islamic extremism. It revolts the conscience of the world, which makes it harder for the West to convince Muslims that we are not the enemy of Islam. It encourages converts to Al Qaeda. It stays the hand of moderate Muslims who may otherwise want to cooperate with us. It undermines our international standing and our national security.
The fact that there is a debate on the United States about the use of torture worries me for two reasons. The first reason is that if in a country as great and as influential as the United States it is possible to argue for the use of torture then it becomes justifiable in the rest of the world. No matter what the anti-Americans, the Isolationists, or the patriots with a superiority complex toward the world say, the United States does leads by example and the standards that it sets has repercussions around the globe because it frames the debate. I am afraid this debate has pushed the world backwards because the fact that torture may be morally acceptable has entered not only the American, but the world consciousness since the emphasis is not on the means and values, but on survival and security. The second reason why the debate on torture worries me is that it is a strike against the enduring American principle that the United States is a country of laws and not of men human being. The “24” mindset that wants to make torture or torturous tactics just means of survival and of fighting terrorism ignores the fact that Jack Bauer’s world is limited and even sterilized for it simplifies the debate by making it about us versus them, life or them, good versus evil. The point is that Jack Bauer, no matter how compelling and how efficient of terrorist fighter he is, is an island that is a man without history, without past, and without traditions. The United States cannot escape its history, its past, and its traditions to focus on its survival because it was founded precisely on principles contrary to survival. After all, if the founders had been so worry about survival, they would have remained loyal to England for they would have believed that there was no way that simple men could defeat the British army. The point is that America, the American life isn’t about surviving, it is about thriving and about perpetually refusing to obey base human instincts to reach for greatness even when that means living dangerously.