President George Bush is presiding over the most secretive administration in ‘living memory’, according to American civil rights groups and congressmen.
Critics accuse him of orchestrating an unprecedented clampdown on freedom of information and the press. This has resulted in a dramatic increase in documents and proceedings being classified secret and an overall shutdown of the free flow of information over the government’s political and legal conduct. They are also concerned over what they see as alarming restrictions on the Freedom of Information Act.
Democrat Senator Patrick Leahy, first elected in 1974, said: ‘Since I have been here, I have never known an administration that it has been more difficult to get information from.’
The administration, under the aegis of Vice-President Dick Cheney, has outlined a new philosophy of emphasis on executive privileges and power. Cheney was at the centre of one of the most controversial clashes over secrecy, when he refused to hand over records of the consultations behind the government energy plan, which involved and benefited many of his personal connections in the business and featured the disgraced Enron corporation.
The Vice-President was subject to the first ever writ to be served by Congress on the White House, which he fought on the grounds that executive authority should be protected and Congress had no right to sue. Cheney’s argument was upheld by Judge John Bates, himself a Bush appointment.
Most secretive measures are justified by mentioning 11 September, but US journalists have calculated that even in the year up to 30 September 2001 — most of which was spent under the Bush administration — the number of classified documents totalled 260 978, up 18% on the last year of the Clinton administration.
Restrictions to the Freedom of Information Act were announced after 11 September by Attorney General John Ashcroft but were planned long before the attacks. They were the result of a directive from Ashcroft that federal agencies should be encouraged to reject requests for documents if there was any legal reason for doing so. The directive ran counter to Bill Clinton’s, which told agencies to open up the record books whenever possible.
The fallout from 11 September goes well beyond proposed military tribunals for those accused of terrorism. It festers mainly in the sweep of arrests and detentions of immigrants in the wake of the attacks, the vast majority for ordinary visa violations.
While a handful have been held as ‘material witnesses’ to the attacks, some 750 hearings that have nothing to do with terrorism were held behind closed doors, shut to relatives, friends, public and press alike. Even the names of the accused were secret.
The secret trials followed a verdict by chief immigration judge Michael Creppy covering what he called ‘special interest cases’ involving alleged connections to terrorism. They were challenged by families of the accused and two newspapers in New Jersey, which argued that the closed-door policy should be considered case-by-case.
‘Deportation cases have always been open,’ said Lee Gerlent of the American Civil Liberties Union, which represented the newspapers. ‘The government did not provide any evidence to the contrary.’
A book by Mary Graham of the Brookings Institution think-tank in Washington, Democracy by Disclosure, reveals how after 11 September officials went about dismantling government websites, and tinkered with those advising residents about the dangers of nearby chemical or toxic plants.
The process dovetailed with what the chemical and energy industries, for decades allied to the Bush family and political machine in Texas, had argued for, insisting that disclosure was unnecessary.
One of the most notorious cases of detention under seal is that of Mohammed Atriss, said to have been the provider of fake identification cards obtained by the hijack terrorists of 11 September.
The unofficial cards are ubiquitous in America, and are bought over the counter for the price of a few dollars and a passport-sized photograph. Atriss was arrested in a glare of publicity by a squadron of assault weapon-wielding officers five months ago. His lawyers say Atriss had no more idea who the terrorists were than any of his other thousands of customers to his ID card shop.
Atriss is still in jail and prosecutors refuse to say what the evidence is, or if he represents a security threat. The bond of half a million dollars is that usually posted for someone on a murder charge. – Guardian Unlimited Â