The Interrogator by Glenn Carle

Author:Glenn Carle [Carle, Glenn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: 2001-2009., War on Terrorism, United States. Central Intelligence Agency., Military interrogation - United States., Glenn., Intelligence officers - United States - Biography., Carle
ISBN: 9781921942112
Publisher: Scribe Publications
Published: 2011-08-01T07:00:00+00:00

Sincere, a Dupe, or a Liar?

Seek simplicity, then mistrust it.

—Anonymous

“Jesus Christ. We are really sorry suckers.”

The reporting started to arrive from the other individual who had been rendered and who was considered part of CAPTUS’s network, while I was working on the elegant walk-in. It was apparent through the neutral and careful tones of the cables that XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX. He, the new detainee and ostensible member of CAPTUS’s network, probably did know some al-Qa’ida personnel and activities XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX. This did not make him a critical node of the al-Qa’ida network. This was absurd, I thought.

Jack turned toward me, by now long accustomed to my outbursts at the computer. He started to smile in anticipation.

“Yes?”

“Now we seize retards. This other guy we’ve rendered—it turns out he’s either a superb actor, playing a sort of terrorist’s version of the insanity defense, or he’s mentally deficient. A retard.”

Jack just looked at me, his eyebrows raised in surprised bemusement, initially enjoying my commentary, but then realizing that I was sardonic because I was serious, and disgusted. He sensed I was not in the mood for flippant repartee. I continued to vent my anger.

“XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX . Holy shit.”

“Oh, man,” was all Jack could say. He stayed out of my way. I returned to my cable writing, silent for a while.

Was rendering this individual called for? Did we need to cast such a wide net on this case and in general in response to 9/11, or were we acting simply, crudely, and without just proportion to our targets’ access, knowledge, and putative involvement in terrorism? Headquarters, on instruction from the administration, was proceeding on the view that it was better to err than to allow even the possibility of obtaining valuable information to go unexploited. Americans had died and we would not let this happen again, no matter what. Of course we all were committed to destroying al-Qa’ida and to protecting America. But I had come to feel from my involvement in the CAPTUS case that nuance and judgment were lacking, and that our actions were too often crude and unjustifiable. Lives—American and non-American—were at stake. We would—I would—do everything I could to protect them, but war or not, it was our duty to get it right, not convince ourselves and our masters that flailing and callousness about collateral damage was useful aggressiveness. Our rules of engagement lacked nuance and understanding, and had become scandalous.

The elegant walk-in returned. Josh and I met him again. Josh was slightly on edge, trying hard to get everything right, because meeting with assets was new to him still. The elegant walk-in was, once again, reserved and poised. I was pleased to meet with him again; his case was straightforward intelligence work, the kind I had done for many years. It had none of the troubling aspects of the interrogation case in which I was involved.

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