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None of Us Were Like This Before recounts the dark journey of a tank battalion as its focus switched from conventional military duties to guerilla warfare and prisoner detention. Author Joshua E. S. Phillips tells a story of ordinary soldiers, ill trained for the responsibilities foisted upon them, who descended into a cycle of degradation that led to the abuse of detainees. The book illustrates that the damaging legacy of torture is borne not only by the detainees, but also by American soldiers and the country ...
None of Us Were Like This Before recounts the dark journey of a tank battalion as its focus switched from conventional military duties to guerilla warfare and prisoner detention. Author Joshua E. S. Phillips tells a story of ordinary soldiers, ill trained for the responsibilities foisted upon them, who descended into a cycle of degradation that led to the abuse of detainees. The book illustrates that the damaging legacy of torture is borne not only by the detainees, but also by American soldiers and the country to which they have returned.
“This is an important book showing the damage abuse does to the torturers as well as to their victims ... Phillips’s message is that we most need the rules banning torture when we most want to break them.”—Oliver Bullough, Independent
“A serious, comprehensive effort to examine how torture and abuse, once embarked upon, damage the torturer and abuser as well as the tortured and abused.”—Lawrence Wilkerson, former Chief of Staff to Secretary of State Colin Powell
“A deeply personal story of a generation of American soldiers plunged into conflict after September 11. Joshua Phillips tells these brave Americans’ stories with compassion and vivid detail.”—Senator John F. Kerry
“Joshua Phillips brings much needed close reporting to the question of American torture. He reveals much about the interaction of ‘lower down’ and ‘higher up’ behavior, always including permission or encouragement from above. The book also suggests the psychological toll on those who torture, and is an important contribution to American reckoning with a dark moment in our history.”—Robert Jay Lifton, Witness to an Extreme Century: A Memoir
“Joshua Phillips’s incredible work in documenting the experience of soldiers who detained and interrogated detainees reflects the huge dilemma and consequences of their actions. His book is about accountability where senior leaders in the military and in the highest level of government failed to account for their actions, failed to protect soldiers who expected clear instructions, and failed the nation in preventing torture and abuse of the enemy. This led to Abu Ghraib—an epic tragedy in American history.”—Major General Antonio Taguba, author of the Taguba Report
“A shocking read about a hidden chapter of the US involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan.”—Deborah Amos, NPR
“Basing his work on extensive interviews, [Phillips] details how ordinary American troops participated in the torture of enemy soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan.”—San Francisco Chronicle
“A masterwork of narrative nonfiction.”—Chris Lombardi, Guernica
“Phillips shows that the recourse to blaming a ‘few bad apples’ should be recognised as a disgraceful, face-saving fiction.”—David Simpson, London Review of Books
“A tour de force of investigative journalism.”—Eamonn McCann, Belfast Telegraph
“This shattering book is a journey into the heart of American darkness. What Joshua Phillips makes shockingly clear is that the misbehavior of some of our best soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan came about because of a failure of military leadership and because political leaders lacked the courage to admit the word ‘torture.’”—Richard Rodriguez, author of Brown: The Last Discovery of America
“Those who authorized torture and defend it don’t want to talk about this. They took honorable, patriotic young soldiers and convinced them to sacrifice the very principles that they had signed up to defend. That paradox is what Phillips investigates and brings to light. And he does it with the utmost respect for the soldiers.”—Huffington Post
“Phillips’ book remains the first and best heartbreaking tale not only of the abuses taking place within our military prisons, but also the negative, long term and in many cases fatal psychological affects it is having on both interrogating soldiers and interrogated enemy prisoners of war ... [An] outstanding book [and] a necessary read for all.”—Kristina Brown and Paul Sullivan, Veterans for Common Sense
“None of Us Were Like This Before is a model of conscientious reporting on a volatile subject—the torture of Iraqi prisoners by American soldiers. His ethical and compassionate approach is an act of citizenship.”—Barry Lopez, author of Arctic Dreams and Crossing Open Ground
“There are many things in this book that are fascinating and generally unknown. One is that these soldiers were afraid to report what they had seen and done ... but without reporting it they couldn’t receive any medical help for their trauma.”—Darius Rejali, author of Torture and Democracy
“The causes and consequences of systematic abuse and torture are all explored by Joshua Phillips through a careful but searing narrative.”—Dominic Alexander, Counterfire
“A fascinating yet distressing account of how the use of torture and abusive techniques on prisoners in Iraq and Afghanistan affected the lives of American soldiers who found themselves caught up in it. Far from neglecting the suffering of the victims, Phillips, through meticulous research, also brings home the full horror of the war crimes inflicted upon the citizens of the occupied nations.”—Craig Hawes, Gulf News
“Joshua Phillips’ book shows that America’s leaders were wrong.”—National
“None of Us Were Like This Before ... is an important [book].”—Foreign Policy
What a story it is.”
1 Searching for Answers 1
2 The Story Begins in Afghanistan 18
3 "We weren't in the CIA---we were soldiers" 50
4 Shock the Conscience 68
5 Rumors, Myths, and Ticking Bomb Stories 87
6 Crimes of Omission 110
7 Silent Suffering 130
8 Confronting Torture's Legacy 161
9 Homecoming 179
Sergeant Adam Gray rarely spoke of those "events that bothered him." He shared these experiences with loved ones during one tearful evening, telling of one incident that involved an accidental shooting that claimed two Iraqi lives. But there were other events that distressed him and other soldiers from his unit as well. After military sweeps, they detained Iraqis in a makeshift jail in Iraq and occasionally roughed them up. Sometimes the roughing up took an extreme turn. Friends and family noticed that Adam seemed "troubled" by those events and witnessed his struggle against anger, substance abuse, and depression after his tour in Iraq. Military documents show that he even professed to have attempted suicide at his Army barracks room in Alaska. The documents also reveal that "Gray said that [his] problems were due to the way he felt about what happened during his deployment." But there is no indication that the military genuinely tried to understand the source of those problems from his tour in Iraq, namely what happened during his deployment.
Three weeks after that attempted suicide, Sergeant Adam Gray was found dead in the same room. The circumstances leading up to his death led Adam's friends and family to question whether it was accurately summarized as "accidental." Some also puzzled over how ordinary soldiers like Adam Gray-a tanker, not an interrogator-became involved in detainee abuse and torture.
Understanding how and why US forces have engaged in detainee abuse and torture is a difficult and uncomfortable inquiry. It forces us to examine who we are as a nation and what has compelled us to choose such a path. This issue does not involve only the soldiers who abused and tortured detainees, but also the government, military, and intelligence officials whose policies enabled it and sometimes ordered it, the doctors and psychologists who oversaw it, and the agencies that failed to investigate the abuses, among others. Among those "others" is us, the American public. Even though Americans have consistently opposed torture in recent years, as evidenced by polling data, the myths surrounding torture (e.g., its effectiveness for questioning terrorist suspects) have influenced its acceptance and use.
This book contains several expository narratives to illustrate the causes and costs of US torture and detainee abuse during the war on terror. The central story is about members of an Army unit that turned to torture, and the toll it took on them all. That is the story of Sergeant Adam Gray and some of his fellow soldiers from Battalion 1-68. One story cannot wholly explain the disparate factors that led US forces to engage in detainee abuse and torture, nor can it fully address the total costs of that experience. But it does help illuminate many critical issues that have been overlooked in the discourse about US torture-some of which involve enormous human tragedies.
Overall, the CIA has held far fewer detainees than the military; by most estimates, there have been roughly a hundred detainees held in CIA "black sites," compared with the tens of thousands of detainees that the US military has held in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Guantanamo Bay. This book does not cover Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) operations such as "extraordinary renditions" or the black sites, in which US personnel (aided by allies) have abducted and sent terrorist suspects to secret foreign prisons. While investigative reporting in this area is critically important, those CIA programs are an enormous subject that deserves the attention of another book. Moreover, the CIA's programs and the agency's involvement in torture during the war on terror have been different than, and separate from, the experience of US military forces (the former being more directly managed by Bush administration officials, as evidenced by recently released legal memos and documents). However, military and intelligence forces have shared some similar associations with torture, and operations by CIA and military personnel sometimes overlapped on the battlefield.
As for torture carried out by US soldiers, President Bush and his supporters have narrowly referenced the Abu Ghraib detainee "abuse" scandal (never called torture), claiming it was an isolated incident and attributing it to the actions of "a few bad apples." By their account, these perpetrators were swiftly investigated and punished, and the problem of detainee abuse was thus eliminated. But this position was dishonest. Even if we were to accept this account, it doesn't explain what enabled those "few bad apples" to engage in torture.
The other problem with this analysis is that it myopically focuses our attention on one high-profile case: Abu Ghraib. To be sure, the torture and abuse at Abu Ghraib was notorious and deserved much scrutiny. Yet it represented just one example. Reports by journalists and human rights organizations have shown that US detainee abuse and torture spread far beyond that single prison during the war on terror. This is consistent with the military's data. In 2006, the Department of Defense investigated 800 allegations of detainee abuse, 600 of which were criminal investigations. As for accountability, in the case of Abu Ghraib, eleven soldiers were convicted (nine of whom were sentenced to prison), while five officers received administrative punishment.
The question "How did US forces turn to torture?" may even be too broad. To properly answer the question, one has to break it down further. That means asking: Why did US forces and officials think torture would be effective? Why did they think it would be permissible and necessary? How did they turn to certain techniques? Where did their ideas about the effectiveness of torture come from, and why were they so pervasive? And what other factors led US forces to engage in abuse and torture?
Recent films and books about US torture have referenced some social and psychological explanations to make sense of cruel behavior. Yale University psychologist Stanley Milgram provided one paradigm in what was later termed "the Milgram experiment." In 1961, Milgram set up a "learning" scenario wherein an "experimenter" instructed participants to deliver a series of electric shocks of increasing voltage to a concealed but audible victim, even as the victim's screams grew in volume. Unbeknownst to the participants, there weren't any actual electric shocks and the screaming victims were merely pretending. Nonetheless, Milgram's experiment revealed how normal participants can be lured by an authority figure into carrying out sadistic acts.
Ten years later, in 1971, Stanford University professor Dr. Philip Zimbardo conducted another kind of social-psychological experiment. Zimbardo hired ordinary students to play the roles of guards and prisoners in a mock prison scenario. As in Milgram's experiment, Zimbardo set out to see if simple situations could move normal actors to do things they would not otherwise do. Within a week the guards brutally abused their captives, and Zimbardo had to abruptly call off the experiment. Zimbardo's "Stanford prison experiment" is often referenced to show how situations can move normal people to become depraved and abusive.
Both experiments are revealing, but neither can fully explain how and why US forces abused and tortured their prisoners. Milgram and Zimbardo set up specific conditions-volunteers, participants, instructors, equipment, and oversight-in order to generate behavior they could analyze for one case of violence within each of their lab experiments. The narrow scope of the Milgram and Zimbardo experiments makes it difficult to extrapolate from them to real-world examples of violence. In other words, one cannot take the carefully constructed lab conditions as a given, and so it is crucial to understand the particular circumstances-such as pressures, orders, resources, and oversight-that led to US prisoner abuse during the war on terror.
Perhaps the rage over the September 11 attacks could have fueled abuses. Gary Berntsen, a CIA agent who fought al Qaeda troops in Afghanistan in late 2001, voiced a feeling that seemed to be shared by many Americans after the attacks on the Pentagon and World Trade Center. "One word kept pounding in my head," Berntsen said. "Revenge." Festering anger over September 11 could have contributed to a desire for violent retribution, leading to torture and abuse. But most soldiers who handled detainees served with honor and distinction, and never tortured. Moreover, troops who did engage in torture have cited many reasons and explanations beyond lingering anger over the September 11 attacks. For instance, some soldiers have said that their rage and frustration about combating Iraqi insurgent groups contributed to prisoner abuse. Others provide far more mundane reasons, including boredom.
Many critics (and apologists) of US torture have pointed to inexperienced interrogators and violent conditions to explain how abuse took root. But this doesn't explain why other inexperienced interrogators who worked in violent areas in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Guantanamo didn't abuse or torture detainees. There are also cases in which experienced interrogators have worked in far less dangerous environments and have turned to torture (e.g., Guantanamo).
A common explanation for the spread of detainee abuse during the US war on terror runs as follows: White House and Pentagon officials drafted memos sanctioning coercive techniques for interrogation in Guantanamo; many of these methods were used, turned abusive, and sometimes led to torture. Officials from Guantanamo, most notably Major General Geoffrey D. Miller, were transferred to Iraq and "Gitmoized" the military facilities there, namely Abu Ghraib. This combination of events allowed the horrors of Abu Ghraib to take hold and spill out elsewhere in Iraq.
But this fails to explain how and why troops turned to torture in Afghanistan and elsewhere prior to this string of events.
As this book will make clear, some US forces tortured and abused detainees even before government officials drafted and disseminated memos permitting coercive interrogation and certain "harsh" techniques. (There were, however, early cases of US abuse and torture after the Bush administration lessened certain provisions of the Geneva Conventions by refusing to classify detainees as prisoners of war.) This poses a predicament for those whose theories of US torture stem from the so-called "torture memos," along with the personnel who drafted and dispatched them. Solely ascribing the rise of torture to the Bush administration memos that sanctioned harsh techniques is inadequate.
In the course of my reporting, I tried to find a straightforward interpretation for the development of US torture during the war on terror. But I failed to find a one-size-fits-all explanation for the myriad cases in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Guantanamo. As one human rights lawyer told me, "There isn't a grand theory of US torture that encapsulates and explains all the different abuses that have taken place in the war on terror." The more I learned about cases of detainee abuse, the more I have found myself agreeing with that sentiment.
There are several explanatory narratives for US prisoner abuse. Yet they share many common threads-some are woven together, some hang as loose strands. Collectively, these threads offer an account of US torture and abuse, and it is possible to discern in them patterns that have been replicated throughout the war on terror.
American soldiers, interrogators, generals, psychologists, senior Bush administration officials, and lawmakers shared many of the very same compulsions and beliefs that led US forces to assume that torture was effective, permissible, and necessary. There has likewise been a pattern in the costs incurred through the abuse of prisoners in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Guantanamo. The toxic dividends of torture are shared by victims and victimizers, and have shaped the legacy of US torture during the war on terror.
Excerpted from NONE OF US WERE LIKE THIS BEFORE by Joshua E. S. Phillips Copyright © 2010 by Joshua E. S. Phillips . Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Posted October 19, 2010
None of Us Were Like This Before is a remarkable book. I expected it to be tough to take, and indeed it was in parts, but the book is engaging and sensitive. The author, Joshua Phillips, succeeds in being nuanced and fair but also deeply moving in examining the causes and consequences of prisoner abuse and torture by U.S. forces in Afghanistan and Iraq. Achieving this delicate balance is no small feat given the divisiveness of the issue of torture.
Torture and abuse raise a number of questions that will hopefully be addressed as the nation reflects on the lengthy and costly military engagements o f the past decade. To what extent did torture and abuse occur? How and why did they occur? Did they yield useful intelligence as apologists maintain? What were the tactical consequences of torture and abuse for U.S. forces in terms of the "battle for the hearts and minds" of Afghanis and Iraqis? What were the human consequences for the victims? What were the human consequences for troops involved in abuse and torture? What adjustments are being made to avoid counterproductive (or any) abuse and torture in the future?
It will take a small canon of literature to address all these questions but None of Us Were Like This Before is an important read for anyone serious about reflecting on what happened and not just sweeping the issue of torture by U.S. forces under the rug. The book touches on a number of questions but addresses two with depth: how and why abuse and torture occurred and the human consequences for troops involved. Phillips' approach to these questions is commendable. In looking at the causes of torture, he avoids the simplicity of pinning blame on "a few bad apples" in the military or Bush Administration or positing another formulaic, "one size fits all" explanation of why torture and abuse occurred. From extensive interviews it becomes clear that there is no easy answer. Incidents were numerous and the causes varied, including factors such as lack of training; the stress of facing a deadly insurgency; desire for revenge following 9-11; the prevailing belief that torture is effective (even in the face of evidence suggesting otherwise); senior commanders encouraging it, turning a blind eye or just failing to assert control of the situation; the influence of TV and movies; lack of accountability and boredom. Phillips is also careful to point out that while many of our troops were exposed to several of these factors, the vast majority served with distinction and honor and did not engage in prisoner abuse or torture.
The human consequences for our troops are conveyed movingly in the stories of Sergeant Adam Gray and medic Jonathan Millantz, their friends and families. The struggles of Gray and Millantz after their return from duty painfully illustrate the damage that can be done when we ask or permit our soldiers to do things in conflict with their own mores and those of society. Phillips' reporting excels in the telling of their stories. He clearly devoted a great deal of time and care to this and treats Gray, Millantz and their families with sensitivity and without judgment. His reporting compels us to grieve for them and in so doing, moves us beyond pointing fingers to a more enlightened sense of collective responsibility.
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Posted June 21, 2010
I wasn't sure I wanted to read a book about detainee abuse and interrogators. Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo happened years ago and Iraq is winding down. Nearly a decade after 9/11, I thought it would have all been covered already in the press. I was wrong and this book provides a lot of insight by talking with soldiers who have been involved in detainee abuse and some of the victims of that abuse. Family members of both are also interviewed.
This book doesn't shy away from the brutality of American torture and the author's accounts from victims of torture is searing. It's impossible to not to be angry at the injustices suffered. But this book is not a "hit piece" on the military or soldiers and the author has a surprising amount of empathy for the sufferings of both the victim and victimizer. It alternately made me very sad and very mad for all the persons affected by it.
Understanding the situation that some of our soldiers found themselves in and what some of them did to detainees and what they went through after really forced me to give sympathy to persons I had previously thought of only as "bad apples" guilty of monstrous crimes. The truth is much more complicated.
Other parts of the book give overviews on the subject matter, the history or detainee abuse, the decision-making of the higher ups and so on. Much of the book is written in the first person which helps give a lighter touch to a very heavy subject matter.
I learned a lot from this book and highly recommend it. You'll think about it not only around the issue of torture but generally on any story about soldiers returning home with post-traumatic stress disorder.
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