By Mark Benjamin
12/16/07 "Salon"
--- - The CIA held Mohamed Farag Ahmad Bashmilah in several
different cells when he was incarcerated in its network of
secret prisons known as "black sites." But the small cells were
all pretty similar, maybe 7 feet wide and 10 feet long. He was
sometimes naked, and sometimes handcuffed for weeks at a time.
In one cell his ankle was chained to a bolt in the floor. There
was a small toilet. In another cell there was just a bucket.
Video cameras recorded his every move. The lights always stayed
on -- there was no day or night. A speaker blasted him with
continuous white noise, or rap music, 24 hours a day.
The guards wore black masks and black clothes. They would not
utter a word as they extracted Bashmilah from his cell for
interrogation -- one of his few interactions with other human
beings during his entire 19 months of imprisonment. Nobody told
him where he was, or if he would ever be freed.
It was enough to drive anyone crazy. Bashmilah finally tried
to slash his wrists with a small piece of metal, smearing the
words "I am innocent" in blood on the walls of his cell. But the
CIA patched him
up.
So Bashmilah stopped eating. But after his weight dropped to
90 pounds, he was dragged into an interrogation room, where they
rammed a tube down his nose and into his stomach. Liquid was
pumped in. The CIA would not let him die.
On several occasions, when Bashmilah's state of mind
deteriorated dangerously, the CIA also did something else: They
placed him in the care of mental health professionals. Bashmilah
believes these were trained psychologists or psychiatrists.
"What they were trying to do was to give me a sort of uplifting
and to assure me," Bashmilah said in a telephone interview,
through an interpreter, speaking from his home country of Yemen.
"One of the things they told me to do was to allow myself to
cry, and to breathe."
Last June, Salon reported on the
CIA's use of psychologists to aid with the interrogation of
terrorist suspects. But the role of mental health professionals
working at CIA black sites is a previously unknown twist in the
chilling, Kafkaesque story of the agency's secret overseas
prisons.
Little about the conditions of Bashmilah's incarceration has
been made public until now. His detailed descriptions in an
interview with Salon, and in newly filed court documents,
provide the first in-depth, first-person account of captivity
inside a CIA black site. Human rights advocates and lawyers have
painstakingly pieced together his case, using Bashmilah's
descriptions of his cells and his captors, and documents
from the governments of Jordan and Yemen and the United Nations
Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights to verify his
testimony. Flight records detailing the movement of CIA aircraft
also confirm Bashmilah's account, tracing his path from the
Middle East to
Afghanistan and back again while in U.S. custody.
Bashmilah's story also appears to show in clear terms that he
was an innocent man. After 19 months of imprisonment and torment
at the hands of the CIA, the agency released him with no
explanation, just as he had been imprisoned in the first place.
He faced no
terrorism charges. He was given no lawyer. He saw no judge.
He was simply released, his life shattered.
"This really shows the human impact of this program and that
lives are ruined by the CIA rendition program," said Margaret
Satterthwaite, an attorney for Bashmilah and a professor at the
New York University School of Law. "It is about psychological
torture and the experience of being disappeared."
Bashmilah, who at age 39 is now physically a free man, still
suffers the mental consequences of prolonged detention and
abuse. He is undergoing treatment for the damage done to him at
the hands of the U.S. government. On Friday, Bashmilah laid out
his story in a declaration to a U.S. district court as part of a
civil suit brought by the ACLU against Jeppesen Dataplan Inc., a
subsidiary of Boeing accused of facilitating secret CIA
rendition flights.
Bashmilah said in the phone interview that the psychological
anguish inside a CIA black site is exacerbated by the
unfathomable unknowns for the prisoners. While he figured out
that he was being held by Americans, Bashmilah did not know for
sure why, where he was, or whether he would ever see his family
again. He said, "Every time I realize that there may be others
who are still there where I suffered, I feel the same thing for
those innocent people who just fell in a crack."
It may seem bizarre for the agency to provide counseling to a
prisoner while simultaneously cracking him mentally -- as if
revealing a humanitarian aspect to a program otherwise
calibrated to exploit systematic psychological abuse. But it
could also be that mental healthcare professionals were enlisted
to help bring back from the edge prisoners who seemed
precariously damaged, whose frayed minds were no longer as
pliable for interrogation. "My understanding is that the purpose
of having psychiatrists there is that if the prisoner feels
better, then he would be able to talk more to the
interrogators," said Bashmilah.
Realistically, psychiatrists in such a setting could do
little about the prisoners' deeper suffering at the hands of the
CIA. "They really had no authority to address these issues,"
Bashmilah said about his mental anguish. He said the doctors
told him to "hope that one day you will prove your innocence or
that you will one day return to your family." The psychiatrists
also gave him some pills, likely tranquilizers. They analyzed
his dreams. But there wasn't much else they could do. "They also
gave me a Rubik's Cube so I could pass the time, and some jigsaw
puzzles," Bashmilah recalled.
The nightmare started for him back in fall 2003. Bashmilah
had traveled to Jordan from Indonesia, where he was living with
his wife and working in the clothing business. He and his wife
went to Jordan to meet Bashmilah's mother, who had also traveled
there. The family hoped to arrange for heart surgery for
Bashmilah's mother at a hospital in Amman. But before leaving
Indonesia, Bashmilah had lost his passport and had received a
replacement. Upon arrival in Jordan, Jordanian officials
questioned his lack of stamps in the new one, and they grew
suspicious when Bashmilah admitted he had visited Afghanistan in
2000. Bashmilah was taken into custody by Jordanian authorities
on Oct. 21, 2003. He would not reappear again until he stepped
out of a CIA plane in Yemen on May 5, 2005.
Bashmilah's apparent innocence was clearly lost on officials
with Jordan's General Intelligence Department. After his arrest,
the Jordanians brutally beat him, peppering him with questions
about al-Qaida. He was forced to jog around in a yard until he
collapsed. Officers hung him upside down with a leather strap
and his hands tied. They beat the soles of his feet and his
sides. They threatened to electrocute him with wires. The told
him they would rape his wife and mother.
It was too much. Bashmilah signed a confession multiple pages
long, but he was disoriented and afraid even to read it. "I felt
sure it included things I did not say," he wrote in his
declaration to the court delivered Friday. "I was willing to
sign a hundred sheets so long as they would end the
interrogation."
Bashmilah was turned over to the CIA in the early morning
hours of Oct. 26, 2003. Jordanian officials delivered him to a
"tall, heavy-set, balding white man wearing civilian clothes and
dark sunglasses with small round lenses," he wrote in his
declaration. He had no idea who his new captors were, or that he
was about to begin 19 months of hell, in the custody of the U.S.
government. And while he was seldom beaten physically while in
U.S. custody, he describes a regime of imprisonment designed to
inflict extreme psychological anguish.
I asked Bashmilah which was worse: the physical beatings at
the hands of the Jordanians, or the psychological abuse he faced
from the CIA. "I consider that psychological torture I endured
was worse than the physical torture," he responded. He called
his imprisonment by the CIA "almost like being inside a tomb."
"Whenever I saw a fly in my cell, I was filled with joy," he
said. "Although I would wish for it to slip from under the door
so it would not be imprisoned itself."
After a short car ride to a building at the airport,
Bashmilah's clothes were cut off by black-clad, masked guards
wearing surgical gloves. He was beaten. One guard stuck his
finger in Bashmilah's anus. He was dressed in a diaper, blue
shirt and pants. Blindfolded and wearing earmuffs, he was then
chained and hooded and strapped to a gurney in an airplane.
Flight records show Bashmilah was flown to Kabul. (Records
show the plane originally departed from Washington, before first
stopping in Prague and Bucharest.) After landing, he was forced
to lie down in a bumpy jeep for 15 minutes and led into a
building. The blindfold was removed, and Bashmilah was examined
by an American doctor.
He was then placed in a windowless, freezing-cold cell,
roughly 6.5 feet by 10 feet. There was a foam mattress, one
blanket, and a bucket for a toilet that was emptied once a day.
A bare light bulb stayed on constantly. A camera was mounted
above a solid metal door. For the first month, loud rap and
Arabic music was piped into his cell, 24 hours a day, through a
hole opposite the door. His leg shackles were chained to the
wall. The guards would not let him sleep, forcing Bashmilah to
raise his hand every half hour to prove he was still awake.
Cells were lined up next to each other with spaces in
between. Higher above the low ceilings of the cells appeared to
be another ceiling, as if the prison were inside an airplane
hanger.
After three months the routine became unbearable. Bashmilah
unsuccessfully tried to hang himself with his blanket and
slashed his wrists. He slammed his head against the wall in an
effort to lose consciousness. He was held in three separate but
similar cells during his detention in Kabul. At one point, the
cell across from him was being used for interrogations. "While I
myself was not beaten in the torture and interrogation room,
after a while I began to hear the screams of detainees being
tortured there," he wrote.
While he was not beaten, Bashmilah was frequently
interrogated. "During the entire period of my detention there, I
was held in solitary confinement and saw no one other than my
guards, interrogators and other prison personnel," he wrote in
his declaration. One interrogator accused him of being involved
in sending letters to a contact in England, though Bashmilah
says he doesn't know anybody in that country. At other times he
was shown pictures of people he also says he did not know.
"This is a form of torture," he told me. "Especially when the
person subjected to this has not done anything."
In his declaration, Bashmilah made it clear that most of the
prison officials spoke English with American accents. "The
interrogators also frequently referred to reports coming from
Washington," he wrote.
After six months he was transferred, with no warning or
explanation. On or around April 24, 2004, Bashmilah was pulled
from his cell and placed in an interrogation room, where he was
stripped naked. An American doctor with a disfigured hand
examined him, jotting down distinctive marks on a paper diagram
of the human body. Black-masked guards again put him in a
diaper, cotton pants and shirt. He was blindfolded, shackled,
hooded, forced to wear headphones, and stacked, lying down, in a
jeep with other detainees. Then he remembers being forced up
steps into a waiting airplane for a flight that lasted several
hours, followed by several hours on the floor of a helicopter.
Upon landing, he was forced into a vehicle for a short ride.
Then, Bashmilah took several steps into another secret prison --
location unknown.
He was forced into a room and stripped naked again. Photos
were taken of all sides of his body. He was surrounded by about
15 people. "All of them except for the person taking photographs
were dressed in the kind of black masks that robbers wear to
hide their faces," Bashmilah wrote in the declaration.
He was again examined by a doctor, who took notations on the
diagram of the human body. (It was the same form from
Afghanistan. Bashmilah saw his vaccination scar marked on the
diagram.) The doctor looked in his eyes, ears, nose and throat.
He was then thrown into a cold cell, left naked.
It was another tiny cell, new or refurbished with a stainless
steel sink and toilet. Until clothes arrived several days later,
Bashmilah huddled in a blanket. In this cell there were two
video cameras, one mounted above the door and the other in a
wall. Also above the door was a speaker. White noise, like
static, was pumped in constantly, day and night. He spent the
first month in handcuffs. In this cell his ankle was attached to
a 110-link chain attached to a bolt on the floor.
The door had a small opening in the bottom through which food
would appear: boiled rice, sliced meat and bread, triangles of
cheese, boiled potato, slices of tomato and olives, served on a
plastic plate.
Guards wore black pants with pockets, long-sleeved black
shirts, rubber gloves or black gloves, and masks that covered
the head and neck. The masks had tinted yellow plastic over the
eyes. "I never heard the guards speak to each other and they
never spoke to me," Bashmilah wrote in his declaration.
He was interrogated more. Bashmilah recalls an interrogator
showing him a lecture by an Islamic scholar playing on a laptop.
The interrogator wanted to know if Bashmilah knew who the man
was, but he did not. It was in this facility that Bashmilah
slashed his wrists, then went on his hunger strike, only to be
force-fed through a tube forced down his nose.
The CIA seems to have figured out that Bashmilah was not an
al-Qaida operative sometime around September 2004, when he was
moved to another, similar cell. But there was no more white
noise. And while his ankles were shackled, he wasn't bolted to
the floor with a chain. He was allowed to shower once a week. He
was no longer interrogated and was mostly left alone.
Bashmilah was given a list of books he could read. About a
month before he was released, he was given access to an exercise
hall for 15 minutes a week. And he saw mental healthcare
professionals. "The psychiatrists asked me to talk about why I
was so despairing, interpreted my dreams, asked me how I was
sleeping and whether I had an appetite, and offered medications
such as tranquilizers."
On May 5, 2005, Bashmilah was cuffed, hooded and put on a
plane to Yemen. Yemeni government documents say the flight
lasted six or seven hours and confirm that he was transferred
from the control of the U.S. government. He soon learned that
his father had died in the fall of 2004, not knowing where his
son had disappeared to, or even if he was alive.
At the end of my interview with Bashmilah, I asked him if
there was anything in particular he wanted people to know. "I
would like for the American people to know that Islam is not an
enemy to other nations," he said. "The American people should
have a voice for holding accountable people who have hurt
innocent people," he added. "And when there is a transgression
against the American people, it should not be addressed by
another transgression."