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Send them home

Seeking justice for Guantanamo detainees

Courtesy of Witness Against Torture

Homeland Security police isolate WAT protestors behind police tape outside of the White House on Jan. 11. The demonstration marked the 14th anniversery of the openining of Guantanamo Bay.

Joe Heidenescher, Community Editor

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January 11, 2016 marked the 14th anniversary of the opening of Guantanamo Bay, the notorious U.S. military prison located in Cuba, and during the first week of 2016, I joined over a hundred activists in Washington, D.C. for a week of activism and fasting.
When I say fasting, I don’t mean that in the metaphorical sense. The other activists and I didn’t eat anything, only consuming liquids for seven frigid and extremely active days.
Why would any sane person torture themselves in this way? Refusing to eat while walking miles each day in below freezing temperatures? It’s because of the strongly held conviction that the detention at Guantanamo Bay is unjust — a conviction I didn’t fully embrace at first, but finally impacted me when I began to view things from a different angle.
When you put it in perspective, giving up food for a few days and being a little cold is nothing compared to what hundreds of men have faced at Gitmo. The U.S. government has admitted to torturing detainees in the past and vowed to never torture again; however, the current detainees are still kept isolated, many are even denied the ability to communicate with family members.
The biggest problem is that many of these men have had charges dropped or have never been charged with a crime. Imagine serving more than 10 years in a prison, thousands of miles from home, for crimes you are not even being charged with.
Although this was my first time participating with this specific organization and I had little knowledge about Gitmo, the Witness Against Torture community provided me a place to sleep and shower for a week while also granting me an immense amount of respect for my opinions, no matter how complete or ineloquent. That welcoming attitude caught my attention and enabled me to join a group of activists with an extensive background in activism.
As the week went on, more and more people were drawn in by this same attitude and joined together in D.C. to petition President Barack Obama to stay true to his campaign promise and close the unjust and torturous prison during his last year in office.
I can’t say I knew a lot about Guantanamo before, but the more and more I learned from the WAT community, the angrier and more emotional I became.
Why Guantanamo is problematic
There are 93 detainees held in Guantanamo as of Jan. 19, 2016 because of their supposed connection to terror plots against the U.S. Many detainees have been cleared for release, but have been stuck in prison for years after they have been cleared. Because the government is dragging its feet, these men continue to suffer for crimes they have been absolved from.
Since its opening in 2002, Guantanamo has held over 700 prisoners and only four of them have been convicted by military commission, which calls into question how many of these men are guilty if enough evidence to convict could only be found four times out of 700.
27 of the current detainees have not even been charged or tried, but are being detained “indefinitely,” stuck in limbo where they aren’t able to leave, but haven’t been given the chance to prove their innocence in a trial.
The detention of and prosecution of prisoners-of-war is legal under international law; however, the Geneva Convention of 1949 states “any unjustifiable delay in the repatriation of prisoners of war or civilians” is a “grave breach” of international law. By detaining prisoners indefinitely and delaying the process of repatriation, the U.S. is blatantly ignoring international agreements, but still wants to call itself a role model for worldwide cooperation.
However, Presidents Bush and Obama have tried to justify the detention of these men. The Obama administration justifies detention without trial through the Authorization for Use of Military Force Act of 2001, which gives the U.S. military the authority to use “necessary and appropriate force” when prosecuting suspected 9/11 perpetrators.
Under this flawed justification, the U.S. executive branch can detain anyone it deems is connected to the 9/11 terror attacks. This means if the government believes you or I had connections to Al Qaeda, we could be imprisoned, too.
Working with WAT for Change
The WAT community convenes every year during the week before Jan. 11 to plan and hold demonstrations that lead up to a public action protesting the prison in Guantanamo.
Our week began with a last meal together on Monday, where we braced ourselves for a whole week without food. As the week went on, we held mini-demonstrations and passed out flyers around D.C. Many of us wore orange jumpsuits and black hoods to represent the detained men we were fighting for and stir up some public interest.
Between Monday and the following Sunday, we held public demonstrations at the Pentagon, inside Union Station, outside the White House, at the CIA Headquarters, at a federal courthouse in Camden, NJ, and at the Department of Justice.
Each day we would wake up with a morning reflection and a group meeting to plan our action. After a very open, and sometimes lengthy, democratic discussion, our group rallied together on a mission and went out into the city, chanting and singing. The group wasn’t directed by a single leader, but seemed to be led by song. A group of people marching and singing in orange jumpsuits tends to draw attention.
The week was not always easy and the effects of hunger began to take a toll on energy levels and attention. The group fasted as a symbolic act of solidarity with the men in Guantanamo who have been hunger-striking since 2005; many of these men are force-fed daily by military personnel.
We broke our fast on Monday, Jan. 11, right before we left for the White House for our largest and final action. Outside of the White House we held banners that read “Close Guantanamo” and “Send them Home [sic].” Several leaders of our coalition spoke to the audience that had gathered there and read our collective call to action.
“Now is the time for Obama to accomplish a central goal of his administration by closing Guantánamo,” the call to action read. “There is today a renewed climate of fear and hate reminiscent of the post-September 11 mindset that led to torture and indefinite detention in the first place. Guantánamo is the bitter legacy of a politics of fear, which must be rejected.”
After speaking and holding a ceremony that symbolized bringing the detainees home, 30 members of our group, dressed in orange jumpsuits and black hoods, walked up to the fence of the White House, into an arrestable zone. The purpose was to civilly disobey the Secret Service’s orders to keep the pathway clear. The police told the protestors that if they did not leave they could be arrested, and none of the group moved. Moments later, Homeland Security police showed up and began to block off part of Pennsylvania Ave. and forced the rest of us to move into Lafayette Park. There were more than a dozen police cars and it seemed like a very threatening response to a peaceful protest. I was a little scared, but still did not hesitate to get as close to the police line as I could.
For the next two hours, both the group dressed in jumpsuits isolated by police tape and the group of us pushed off the road sang in unison.
We sang a song written by Luke Nephew, a poet, writer and member of the WAT community.
“We hear a beautiful sound/ It is the breaking of chains/ We see a path of hope/ We have found the way./ Let them go home/ Let them go home/ Let them go home/ Let them go today.”
Then I realized all the events of the week were adding up to this moment, and it is the moment that stuck with me the most. I welled up with tears. The men in Guantanamo are just men; they are separated from their homes and families. Aside from all the political rhetoric and fear of these men, the fear of their religion and culture, we as Americans are inflicting horror onto a group of people in search of some sort of revenge for an event that occurred over a decade ago.
But what are we gaining from detaining these men indefinitely? We are creating and perpetuating the notion that it is okay to be afraid of Islam — a dangerous situation that leads to state-sponsored and justified violence.
Many of these men are wrongly accused of terrorism and an independent review board has found they are safe to be released. If we continue to hold these innocent men captive, we are making a statement as a nation that international law is useless, torture is necessary and justice is less important than our irrational fears.
It’s time to stop being afraid and live up to the models our country was founded on: “liberty and justice for all,” including prisoners of war or people of different faith traditions.
Let them go home.

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