Late on Thursday evening, I joined
in the widespread celebrations – at least in those parts of the world that
care about the injustice of holding people in prison without charge or trial
– that attended the repatriation of al-Jazeera journalist Sami al-Haj from
Guantánamo, his home for the last six years, to Sudan.
Although a few news outlets have briefly mentioned some of the other men
released with Sami – two of his compatriots, a Moroccan, and five Afghans –
their stories remain largely unknown. However, as a result of the research
I undertook for my book The
Guantánamo Files: The Stories of the 774 Detainees in America's Illegal
Prison, I'm able to shine some light on their stories, which otherwise
are unlikely to receive much coverage – if at all – outside their home countries.
While none have the extraordinary impact of Sami's
story – which, I note, has the Pentagon so scared that three officials
told ABC News
on Friday that he was "a manipulator and a propagandist," who produced a "constant
drumbeat of allegations" about the treatment of prisoners in Guantánamo
– they do nothing to support the administration's constantly unraveling claim
that the prisoners are "the worst of the worst." This claim, made by Rear Admiral
John D. Stufflebeem on Jan. 28, 2002, has been parroted at the highest levels
of government in the years since, even though 501 prisoners have now been released,
and the administration has stated that it only intends to try between 60 to
80 of the 273 prisoners who remain in Guantánamo.
On the cargo plane containing Sami al-Haj that landed in Khartoum in the
early hours of May 2 were Amir Yacoub al-Amir and Walid Ali, who, like Sami,
were bound like beasts for their journey despite finally being transported
to freedom. Both had also been held for over six years without charge or trial,
but unlike Sami, whose plight was widely publicized by al-Jazeera, by his lawyers
at the legal action charity Reprieve,
and by groups campaigning for the rights of journalists, including the Committee
to Protect Journalists and Reporters Sans
Frontières, both of these men had barely registered on the media's
radar.
Amir Yacoub al-Amir, Great-Grandson of Sudan's Caliph
Thirty-six-year-old Amir Yacoub al-Amir was one
of at least 120 prisoners (around 15 percent of Guantánamo's entire
population) who were captured not in Afghanistan, but in Pakistan, without
ever having been anywhere near the battlefields of Afghanistan. In his tribunal
at Guantánamo (one of the combatant status review tribunals convened
in 2004 and 2005 to assess whether, on capture, the prisoners had been correctly
designated as "enemy combatants" without rights), Amir strenuously denied an
allegation that he was associated with al-Qaeda, saying, "I disagree with al-Qaeda
on everything," and he also denied being associated with the Taliban.
Seized from a car in Peshawar in March 2002, while visiting Pakistan, Amir's
story echoes reports by numerous other innocent men seized in Pakistan, who
said that they were captured and sold for money, a situation that was confirmed
at the highest levels in 2006, when, in his autobiography, President Musharraf
boasted that in return for handing over 369 terror suspects (who were mostly
transferred to Guantánamo), "We have earned bounty payments totaling
millions of dollars." In Guantánamo, Amir explained that he was seized
because the Pakistani government "was capturing any Arab and giving them to
the United States as terrorists."
Like Sami al-Haj, Amir was represented by Reprieve, and in 2007 Reprieve's
Director, Clive Stafford Smith, traveled to Sudan to meet his family, where
he discovered that his great-grandfather, a cousin of the khalifa (caliph),
had, with numerous other relatives, been captured and imprisoned by the British
army after the fall of Gen. Gordon's regime in 1885, in conditions that were
remarkable similar to those prevailing at Guantánamo. In a New
Statesman article, Stafford Smith described how the prisoners were
"dispatched (or, in modern terms, rendered)" to Egypt, where conditions were
so brutal that Amir's great-grandfather died, and noted that, during his visit,
members of the government, and other relatives of the khalifa, "expressed concern
that Amir Yacoub had been illegally rendered, and was now being held, like
his great-grandfather, by the hyperpower of the day, in a brutal and lawless
prison far from home."
Walid Ali, Survivor of an Afghan Massacre
Thirty-three-year-old Walid Ali, whose story
has only ever been reported in The Guantánamo Files, explained
in 2005 to his administrative review board (ARB) – convened to assess whether
the prisoners were still regarded as a threat to the United States or as an
ongoing source of intelligence – that he had traveled to Pakistan to teach
the Koran, but had then been drawn to the conflict in Afghanistan, where he
joined the Taliban, serving as a guard for 25 to 30 days.
Like several other prisoners, Ali told the board that he had been inspired
to help the Taliban fight the Russians, which was not as far-fetched as it
sounds, as Gen. Rashid Dostum, the Northern Alliance's preeminent Uzbek commander,
had served with the Russians throughout the Soviet occupation of the 1980s,
before repeatedly switching his allegiance during the chaos of the 1990s. In
his hearing, Ali appeared genuinely bewildered that Dostum had become an ally
of the United States, and that he was therefore accused of fighting Americans.
Ali was one of at least 50 Guantánamo prisoners to survive a massacre
at the Qala-i-Janghi fort (and improvised prison) in northern Afghanistan in
November 2001. They, along with the "American Taliban" John Walker Lindh, were
the only survivors out of up to 400 foreign Taliban fighters – mainly from
the Gulf countries, North Africa, Pakistan, and Uzbekistan – who had left the
city of Kunduz, the Taliban's last outpost in the north of Afghanistan, after
a surrender was negotiated between senior Taliban leaders and the Northern
Alliance.
Tricked into believing that they would be allowed to return home after giving
up their weapons, some of the men responded to the betrayal – and fears that
they were to be executed – by starting an uprising (in which a CIA agent, Johnny
"Mike" Spann, was killed), which was savagely put down by U.S. bombers, representatives
of the U.S. and British Special Forces, and Alliance soldiers. The survivors
– many of whom had their hands tied behind their backs when the fighting started,
and were subsequently wounded – hid in a basement while the battle raged, and
it's probable, therefore, that most did not actually have anything to do with
the uprising. After seven days, in which they were shot at, bombed, and finally
flooded out, the survivors were transferred to Dostum's prison at Sheberghan,
then taken to Guantánamo via the U.S. prison at Kandahar airport.
In a written statement to his ARB, Ali told one of the most complete stories
of being caught in the crossfire and suffering in the basement:
"They handcuffed us so tightly that the circulation was cut off, and I
became unconscious. What happened after is … all I know is they were firing
bullets at us while we were handcuffed and American airplanes came and started
firing at us and killed a lot of us. I was handcuffed and wounded in my back
with a bullet and it went to my belly where it is now. And I feel the pain
of it. … While I was on the ground an American airplane fired a bomb and shrapnel
hit my head and it is still there in my head. And then I went unconscious and
I did not feel anything until I woke up in a room underground. … Of course,
they used all [kinds of] different weapons in order to kill us. They even used
water and electricity. And they threw a bomb on us. And a lot of times they
opened water on us to the point [that] we had water up to our necks. Of course,
the wounded ones couldn't stand up and they were killed in the water."
Said al-Boujaadia, Cleared for 18 Months
Some time after the plane carrying Sami al-Haj
and his compatriots touched down in Khartoum, it dropped off another prisoner
in Morocco. Thirty-nine-year-old Said al-Boujaadia, also represented by Reprieve,
had surfaced briefly in the media last December, but his story was largely
unknown until last month, when I wrote an article
that focused on his particular route to Guantánamo.
In 2001, Boujaadia traveled to Afghanistan with his Afghan wife, whom he had
met and married on a previous visit, and their three children. Like many others,
his life fell apart after the 9/11 attacks and the U.S.-led invasion that began
in October. Although he managed to secure the safe escape of his family, he,
like almost a third of the Guantánamo prisoners – a mixture of missionaries,
charity workers, migrants, and Taliban foot soldiers – was captured as he attempted
to help another family cross the Pakistani border to safety.
Although he was cleared for release in late 2006, when his review board decided
that he did not pose a threat to the United States, his planned departure,
in March 2007, never took place, because he was requested as a witness at the
trial by military commission of another prisoner, Salim Hamdan, a Yemeni who
had been a driver for Osama bin Laden. Hamdan's defense counsel offered alternatives
that would have allowed Boujaadia to be released – including videotaping a
statement from him, or allowing him to testify from Morocco – but these options
were turned down by the military authorities, who continued to hold him without
even offering him an explanation.
On Dec. 6, 2007, over a year after he was cleared for release, Boujaadia finally
testified on Hamdan's behalf. His testimony was apparently required because
he was seized on the same day as Hamdan, but although he recalled seeing Hamdan
lying face down on the floor in the makeshift Afghan prison he was taken to
after his capture, he had no other information to offer. Even so, it took the
authorities another five months to release him.
Imprisoned on his return, Boujaadia is happy to submit to any investigations
that the Moroccan government thinks appropriate, as Clive Stafford Smith reported
during a visit to Morocco in March. As Stafford Smith added on Friday, however,
"We respectfully request that the government of Morocco complete any investigation
of Mr. al-Boujaadia quickly, so he may be swiftly reunited with his wife, his
children, and his elderly mother."
[In a second article to follow, Andy looks at the stories of the Afghans
released with Sami al-Haj, Amir Yacoub al-Amir, Walid Ali, and Said al-Boujaadia.]