Embassy bombings widow calls for civilian trial for detainee

An American college professor whose Kenyan husband was killed in the 1998 al Qaida suicide bombing of the U.S. Embassy in Tanzania said Tuesday that a Guantanamo detainee accused in the attack should be tried in a civilian federal court, not by a military commission.

“These commissions have been fraught with challenges … from coerced evidence to secret evidence,” said Susan Hirsch, a professor at George Mason University outside Washington D.C.

She called the Guantanamo war court, established after the 9/11 attacks, “an unprecedented newly created procedure” that has been “roundly condemned worldwide.”

Hirsch, 48, spoke a day after the Pentagon prosecutor filed proposed charges against Ahmad Ghailani in the embassy bombing that killed her husband. Ghailani was accused of helping gather up the parts for truck bomb that blew through the embassy in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, on Aug. 7, 1998.

Ghailani already was indicted in New York 10 years ago for his involvement in the attack, an indictment that possibly could have seen him already tried and sentenced, had he been turned over to civilian prosecutors for trial when he was arrested in Pakistan in July 2004.

Instead, he was held secretly by the CIA until September 2006, then turned over to military authorities, who transferred him to Guantanamo.

Four other men were tried in New York for the East Africa bombings, which struck in Dar es Salaam and Nairobi, Kenya, killing more than 220 people, including 12 Americans, and injuring more than 4,000.

Each of the men, who were captured in East Africa and brought to the United States for trial, was convicted and is serving a sentence of life in prison.

Hirsch, whose husband, Abdurahman Abdalla, was waiting outside the embassy while she was inside, cashing a check, both attended and testified as a victim at the trial, which was held in New York City.

“In my view, when Ghailani was picked up in Pakistan in 2004, he could’ve been brought to federal court. That’s the kind of justice I would support,” said Hirsch, a cultural anthropology professor who was teaching at Dar es Salaam University as a Fulbright lecturer in 1998.

What faces Ghailani now is uncertain. The Bush administration established military commissions following the Sept. 11, 2001 attacks to prosecute al Qaida and other war-on-terror captives scooped up abroad.

But the U.S. Supreme Court ruled the first format unconstitutional. The current formula, authorized by the 2006 Military Commissions Act, has been attacked by legal advocates and others for allowing evidence obtained through coercion, holding closed sessions and being overseen by White House appointees subject to political pressure.

Hirsch, who wrote a book, “In The Moment of Greatest Calamity: Terrorism, Grief and a Victim’s Quest for Justice,” about her loss and the subsequent trial, said she’d been notified in advance that the Pentagon was preparing charges against Ghailani.

But she said that she had not been invited to observe proceedings at Guantanamo, as she had been for the New York trials.

If invited, she said, she would consider attending.

A professor of cultural anthropology at George Mason, Hirsch runs the suburban Washington D.C.’s Undergraduate Program Institute for Conflict Analysis and Resolution.

Hirsch testified in the sentencing phase of the 2001 trial of the four men charged in the bombings — a Lebanese-born naturalized American, a Saudi, a Tanzanian and a Jordanian.

All four got life sentences without possibility of parole.

Monday, the New York U.S. Attorneys office as well as the Department of Justice declined to comment on whether they would seek to prosecute Ghailani in civilian court. The Pentagon’s military commissions legal advisor said Monday there is nothing to prevent both a civilian and a military commission trial.

Omar Khadr: A most peculiar young offender

 He should be dealt with here in Canada, as a juvenile who was involved in terrorism

The civilized world condemns the recruitment of child soldiers. Yet Canada sits quietly by as one of its citizens, Omar Khadr, is prosecuted by the United States for war crimes he allegedly committed at age 15 as a member of al-Qaeda.

It is impossible to square. Al-Qaeda’s recruitment of child soldiers is immoral and abusive; consequently, it is immoral and abusive to prosecute as a war criminal a child recruited by al-Qaeda, and punish him accordingly. We can’t have it both ways.

Lately, it has dawned on Canadians that the United States may well have lied about its evidence against Mr. Khadr. Far from having proof that only he could have thrown the grenade that killed their soldier, the U.S. appears to have hidden the truth: that the teenage Canadian was in the company of an adult al-Qaeda fighter and was himself unarmed, on his knees and facing away from battle when a U.S. soldier shot him twice — in the back.

But the falsehoods are only part of the reasons why Canadians let the 15-year-old disappear six years ago into the legal black hole of Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, in which he had no access to a lawyer for the first 27 months and no way to contest his detention. Canadians accepted that Mr. Khadr be held fully responsible for his actions. As if he were an adult.

The irony has never really penetrated Canadians’ consciousness. Canada, the country of the liberal Youth Criminal Justice Act, is the only Western nation to give the United States carte blanche with one of its nationals at Guantanamo. Britain, Australia, Sweden and Germany fought to repatriate their nationals — adults, all of them. And Canada let a juvenile languish.

The reply from our government is but a single, vapid refrain: “Let the process work.” But this is a process that, even apart from its other flaws, aims at punishing Omar Khadr for the accident of his birth in an al-Qaeda family.

A VICTIM OF HIS OWN HOME

When a young person raised in a terrorist family becomes a terrorist at 15, does he join voluntarily? Can he give free and informed consent? To say yes is to let al-Qaeda and Toronto’s Khadr family off the hook for grooming children for terrorism. It puts the onus on the children to resist.

Most Canadian children grow up in circles within circles of benign, positive influences — family, school, neighbourhood, the larger culture. Omar’s circles of influence were pro-terror. His late father, Ahmed Said Khadr, was a senior financier with al-Qaeda who prodded Abdurahman, Omar’s elder brother, to become a suicide bomber. Even his mother and sister boasted on national television of the glories of terrorism.

From age 11, Omar was inculcated in terror, according to the U.S. charge sheets. “From 1996 to 2001, the Khadr family travelled throughout Afghanistan and Pakistan, including yearly trips to Usama bin Laden’s compound in Jalalabad for the Eid celebration at the end of Ramadan. While travelling with his father, Omar Khadr saw or personally met senior al-Qaeda leaders, including Usama bin Laden, Doctor Ayman Al-Zawahiri, Muhammad Atef (aka Abu Hafs al Masri), and Saif al Adel. Khadr also visited various al Qaeda training camps and guest houses.”

Only an extraordinary 15-year-old could have withstood that grooming process. The Khadr son who did resist, Abdurahman, did not do so until he was in his 20s. A younger brother, Abdul Karim, was paralyzed in battle in Pakistan in 2004 at 14. (His father was killed in the same battle.) The oldest brother, Abdullah, faces extradition from Toronto to the United States on terrorism charges from Afghanistan.

Yet many Canadians insist he acted of his free will. “Real child soldiers are forcibly taken from their parents (who are often killed),” one Globe reader wrote in an unpublished letter to the editor. “These children are drugged, brainwashed, and abused so they become killers. Khadr became a soldier/terrorist because his family encouraged it. He was a willing participant. Where was the coercion?”

This is a narrow view of coercion. Could there be a worse form of coercion than that in a father’s wish that his son become a suicide bomber? “Blow yourself up or lose your father’s esteem.” Omar’s family culture promoted dying for the cause. That was what it meant to be a good boy in that family.

CHILD SOLDIERS ELSEWHERE

The world is rife with child soldiers. Peter Singer of the Brookings Institution in Washington, D.C., estimates that as many as 300,000 child soldiers are in combat around the world. Yet none of today’s international war-crimes tribunals prosecute child soldiers or terrorists.

No one under 18 has been charged before the tribunals for Rwanda or the former Yugoslavia. No one has been charged in East Timor, in Cambodia, in Bosnia and Herzegovina. “To date, there is no precedent in history for the prosecution of a child soldier before an international criminal tribunal, and similarly there is no precedent in the Western world for prosecution of a child soldier before any state tribunal,” says Sarah Paoletti, a professor at the University of Pennsylvania School of Law, in a friend-of-the-court brief to the military commission that is to try Mr. Khadr. (Among those whose names are on that brief are former Canadian justice ministers Irwin Cotler and Allan Rock.) The U.S. says there are in fact precedents, but its examples predate the Nuremberg Tribunals. For instance, a British Military Court in northwestern Germany convicted and jailed a 15-year-old Hitler Youth member for his role in killing a British serviceman.

More recently, at the Special Court for Sierra Leone in 2004, the U.S. prosecutor, David Crane, was given the option of putting on trial, in a court without punishment, those age 15 to 17 who committed war crimes. Memorably, Mr. Crane rejected that idea. “The children of Sierra Leone have suffered enough both as victims and perpetrators. I want to prosecute the people who forced thousands of children to commit unspeakable crimes.”

If international practice is clear, the law as written is less so.

The relevant text is the Optional Protocol to the Convention on the Rights of the Child on the Involvement of Children in Armed Conflict. Both Canada and the U.S. are among the 150 signatories. “The Protocol prohibits the United States from using child soldiers, not from prosecuting them,” says the U.S. brief to the military commission.

It’s right. The protocol is silent on its face. Emboldened by that silence, the U.S. stretches the point: “If anything, the Protocol obligates the United States to prosecute Khadr” because not punishing Mr. Khadr would “further incentivize” al-Qaeda in recruiting young people.

If the U.S. is right, where is the outcry that all the world’s child soldiers are going unpunished at all the world’s tribunals except this one?

Omar Khadr was a war crime waiting to happen. Anyone in al-Qaeda or the Taliban is an unlawful enemy combatant under U.S. law. Anything such a combatant does to fight, even in battle, is a war crime.

“In a normal war,” explained John Bellinger, a legal adviser to the U.S. state department, “where both sides have a right to engage in combat with one another, if a soldier kills a soldier on the other side, it’s not murder unless it is done somehow contrary to the laws of war perfidiously, or killing someone when they have already surrendered.

“In this case, though, the members of al-Qaeda and the Taliban, while they may have thought they were defending themselves, they had no legal right under the laws of war to be engaging in combat.” There’s a legitimate expectation that young people know and abide by the criminal law of their countries; the minimum age of criminal responsibility is usually 12 (as it is in Canada). But how could a 15-year-old of Mr. Khadr’s experience and background have been aware of the laws of war, especially laws that hadn’t been invented yet?

And speaking of inventions: “According to the reports of the action we have available, the last surviving enemy in that compound … as his last act at the firefight rose up with a pistol and hand grenade, and engaged the coalition forces, threw the grenade,” Col. Roger King, a U.S. spokesman based in Afghanistan, told the Associated Press in September, 2002. We now know that the U.S. had an eyewitness report that painted a very different picture.

A CASE FOR CANADIAN PROCESSES

And what has Canada done to help Mr. Khadr? It sent intelligence officers to interrogate him without counsel, and passed summaries of the interrogations to the Americans. Some help. (The Supreme Court of Canada is hearing Mr. Khadr’s request next week for access to Canada’s files from those visits.)

“The recruitment and use of child soldiers is one of the most flagrant violations of international norms,” says Mr. Singer. Why? Because children are not to be made a mere instrument of the state or terror group. Because children are manipulable. Because children cannot assess risk as adults can. To prosecute children as if they were fully responsible for war crimes is to legitimize their recruitment.

As other Western countries have repatriated adult suspected terrorists — several, in Britain’s case — it seems strange that Canada would not bring a lone 21-year-old home to face fair processes that would take into account his age and background, and his long incarceration at Guantanamo. Omar Khadr, child soldier, has been dehumanized enough. Bring him home.

Spy chiefs warn of al-Qaeda ‘bombs and computers’ plot

Counter-terrorism experts call it a ‘force multiplier’: an attack combining slaughter and electronic chaos. Now Britain’s security services want total access to commuters’ travel records to help them meet the threat

Millions of commuters could have their private movements around cities secretly monitored under new counter-terrorism powers being sought by the security services.

Records of journeys made by people using smart cards that allow 17 million Britons to travel by underground, bus and train with a single swipe at the ticket barrier are among a welter of private information held by the state to which MI5 and police counter-terrorism officers want access in order to help identify patterns of suspicious behaviour.

The request by the security services, described by shadow Home Secretary David Davis last night as ‘extraordinary’, forms part of a fierce Whitehall debate over how much access the state should have to people’s private lives in its efforts to combat terrorism.

It comes as the Cabinet Office finalises Gordon Brown’s new national security strategy, expected to identify a string of new threats to Britain – ranging from future ‘water wars’ between countries left drought-ridden by climate change to cyber-attacks using computer hacking technology to disrupt vital elements of national infrastructure.

The fear of cyber-warfare has climbed Whitehall’s agenda since last year’s attack on the Baltic nation of Estonia, in which Russian hackers swamped state servers with millions of electronic messages until they collapsed. The Estonian defence and foreign ministries and major banks were paralysed, while even its emergency services call system was temporarily knocked out: the attack was seen as a warning that battles once fought by invading armies or aerial bombardment could soon be replaced by virtual, but equally deadly, wars in cyberspace.

While such new threats may grab headlines, the critical question for the new security agenda is how far Britain is prepared to go in tackling them. What are the limits of what we want our security services to know? And could they do more to identify suspects before they strike?

One solution being debated in Whitehall is an unprecedented unlocking of data held by public bodies, such as the Oyster card records maintained by Transport for London and smart cards soon to be introduced in other cities in the UK, for use in the war against terror. The Office of the Information Commissioner, the watchdog governing data privacy, confirmed last night that it had discussed the issue with government but declined to give details, citing issues of national security.

Currently the security services can demand the Oyster records of specific individuals under investigation to establish where they have been, but cannot trawl the whole database. But supporters of calls for more sharing of data argue that apparently trivial snippets – like the journeys an individual makes around the capital – could become important pieces of the jigsaw when fitted into a pattern of other publicly held information on an individual’s movements, habits, education and other personal details. That could lead, they argue, to the unmasking of otherwise undetected suspects.

Critics, however, fear a shift towards US-style ‘data mining’, a controversial technique using powerful computers to sift and scan millions of pieces of data, seeking patterns of behaviour which match the known profiles of terrorist suspects. They argue that it is unfair for millions of innocent people to have their privacy invaded on the off-chance of finding a handful of bad apples.

‘It’s looking for a needle in a haystack, and we all make up the haystack,’ said former Labour minister Michael Meacher, who has a close interest in data sharing. ‘Whether all our details have to be reviewed because there is one needle among us – I don’t think the case is made.’

Jago Russell, policy officer at the campaign group Liberty, said technological advances had made ‘mass computerised fishing expeditions’ easier to undertake, but they offered no easy answers. ‘The problem is what do you do once you identify somebody who has a profile that suggests suspicions,’ he said. ‘Once the security services have identified somebody who fits a pattern, it creates an inevitable pressure to impose restrictions.’

Individuals wrongly identified as suspicious might lose high-security jobs, or have their immigration status brought into doubt, he said. Ministers are also understood to share concerns over civil liberties, following public opposition to ID cards, and the debate is so sensitive that it may not even form part of Brown’s published strategy.

But if there is no consensus yet on the defence, there is an emerging agreement on the mode of attack. The security strategy will argue that in the coming decades Britain faces threats of a new and different order. And its critics argue the government is far from ready.

The cyber-assault on Estonia confirmed that the West now faces a relatively cheap, low-risk means of warfare that can be conducted from anywhere in the world, with the power to plunge developed nations temporarily into the stone age, disabling everything from payroll systems that ensure millions of employees get paid to the sewage treatment processes that make our water safe to drink or the air traffic control systems keeping planes stacked safely above Heathrow.

And it is one of the few weapons which is most effective against more sophisticated western societies, precisely because of their reliance on computers. ‘As we become more advanced, we become more vulnerable,’ says Alex Neill, head of the Asia Security programme at the defence think-tank RUSI, who is an expert on cyber-attack.

The nightmare scenario now emerging is its use by terrorists as a so-called ‘force multiplier’ – combining a cyber-attack to paralyse the emergency services with a simultaneous atrocity such as the London Tube bombings.

Victims would literally have nowhere to turn for help, raising the death toll and sowing immeasurable panic. ‘Instead of using three or four aircraft as in 9/11, you could do one major event and then screw up the communications network behind the emergency services, or attack the Underground control network so you have one bomb but you lock up the whole network,’ says Davis. ‘You take the ramifications of the attack further. The other thing to bear in mind is that we are ultimately vulnerable because London is a financial centre.’

In other words, cyber-warfare does not have to kill to bring a state to its knees: hackers could, for example, wipe electronic records detailing our bank accounts, turning millionaires into apparent paupers overnight.

So how easy would it be? Estonia suffered a relatively crude form of attack known as ‘denial of service’, while paralysing a secure British server would be likely to require more sophisticated ’spy’ software which embeds itself quietly in a computer network and scans for secret passwords or useful information – activating itself later to wreak havoc.

Neill said that would require specialist knowledge to target the weakest link in any system: its human user. ‘You will get an email, say, that looks like it’s from a trusted colleague, but in fact that email has been cloned. There will be an attachment that looks relevant to your work: it’s an interesting document, but embedded in it invisibly is “malware” rogue software which implants itself in the operating systems. From that point, the computer is compromised and can be used as a platform to exploit other networks.’

Only governments and highly sophisticated criminal organisations have such a capability now, he argues, but there are strong signs that al-Qaeda is acquiring it: ‘It is a hallmark of al-Qaeda anyway that they do simultaneous bombings to try to herd victims into another area of attack.’

The West, of course, may not simply be the victim of cyber-wars: the United States is widely believed to be developing an attack capability, with suspicions that Baghdad’s infrastructure was electronically disrupted during the 2003 invasion.

So given its ability to cause as much damage as a traditional bomb, should cyber-attack be treated as an act of war? And what rights under international law does a country have to respond, with military force if necessary? Next month Nato will tackle such questions in a strategy detailing how it would handle a cyber-attack on an alliance member. Suleyman Anil, Nato’s leading expert on cyber-attack, hinted at its contents when he told an e-security conference in London last week that cyber-attacks should be taken as seriously as a missile strike – and warned that a determined attack on western infrastructure would be ‘practically impossible to stop’.

Tensions are likely to increase in a globalised economy, where no country can afford to shut its borders to foreign labour – an issue graphically highlighted for Gordon Brown weeks into his premiership by the alleged terrorist attack on Glasgow airport, when it emerged that the suspects included overseas doctors who entered Britain to work in the NHS.

A review led by Homeland Security Minister Admiral Sir Alan West into issues raised by the Glasgow attack has been grappling with one key question: could more be done to identify rogue elements who are apparently well integrated with their local communities?

Which is where, some within the intelligence community insist, access to personal data already held by public bodies – from the Oyster register to public sector employment records – could come in. The debate is not over yet.

Former chief prosecutor at Guantánamo Bay becomes a chief critic

Until four months ago, Colonel Morris Davis was the chief prosecutor at Guantánamo Bay and the most colorful champion of the Bush administration’s military commission system. He once said sympathy for detainees was nauseating and compared putting them on trial to dragging “Dracula out into the sunlight.”

Then in October he had a dispute with his boss, a general. Ever since, he has been one of those critics who will not go away: a former top insider, with broad shoulders and a well-pressed uniform, willing to turn on the system he helped run.

Still in the military, he has irritated the administration, asserting in articles and interviews that Pentagon officials interfered with prosecutors, exerted political pressure and approved the use of evidence obtained by torture.

Now, Davis has taken his most provocative step, completing his transformation from Guantánamo’s chief prosecutor to its new chief critic. He has agreed to testify at Guantánamo on behalf of one of the detainees, Salim Ahmed Hamdan, a driver for Osama bin Laden.

Davis, a career military lawyer nearing retirement at 49, said that he would never argue that Hamdan was innocent but that he was ready to try to put the commission system itself on trial by questioning its fairness.

 He said that there was “a potential for rigged outcomes” and that he had “significant doubts about whether it will deliver full, fair and open hearings.”

“I’m in a unique position where I can raise the flag and aggravate the Pentagon and try to get this fixed,” he said, acknowledging that he was enjoying some aspects of his new role.

He was replaced as chief Guantánamo prosecutor after he stepped down but is still a senior legal official for the air force.

Among detainees’ advocates, there has been something of a gasp since it was announced last week that Davis would be taking the witness stand in April.

Hamdan’s chief military lawyer, Lieutenant Commander Brian Mizer, said he would offer Davis to argue that charges against Hamdan should be dismissed because of improper influence by Pentagon officials over the commission process. Prosecutors may object, and it is unclear how military judges may rule.

But whatever happens, some detainee advocates say, officials are likely to have difficulty erasing the image of a uniformed former Guantánamo champion challenging them so directly – particularly, some of them said, one who was known for scorched-earth attacks on adversaries, be they terror suspects or lawyers.

“He was the attack dog for the military commission system,” said Zachary Katznelson, a lawyer for Guantánamo detainees.

Last year as chief prosecutor, Davis publicly suggested that a Marine defense lawyer for a detainee might be guilty of a crime for using “contemptuous words” about the president when the marine questioned the fairness of the Guantánamo system.

At the time, critics ridiculed “Moe” as an administration apologist. But in recent weeks, some of them have described him in nearly heroic terms.

Jennifer Daskal of Human Rights Watch called him the most significant insider to tell what he knows about Guantánamo.

“He has put his career on the line,” she said.

Pentagon officials have steamed about the extraordinary role Davis has staked out. Some people with Pentagon ties say the unusual story started as a power struggle between Davis and a Pentagon official who has broad powers over the Guantánamo legal system, Brigadier General Thomas Hartmann, who has declined to comment.

Brigadier General Thomas Hemingway, a retired military official who once supervised Davis at the Office of Military Commissions, said this week that he was surprised Davis was attacking the system he once championed.

“That’s not whistle-blowing you hear,” Hemingway said. “It’s a whine.”

In his contentious days at Guantánamo, lawyers who battled him said, Davis was known for a you’re-with-us-or-you’re-against-us style of news-conference warfare, delivered in an amiable North Carolina twang.

He is an experienced military lawyer, with years of work both in the prosecution and the defense. He is the son of a disabled veteran of World War II, and he is married with one daughter.

In interviews this week he was in his combative mode, challenging Pentagon officials to take lie-detector tests and asserting that commanders had praised him in the past.

He portrayed himself as battling political appointees. But he said he still believed that a military commission system could work.

“It’s gotten so tarnished that if we’re going to convince the world that this isn’t some rigged process we have to bend over backward,” he said.

He said the solutions were simple – giving control to military officials. But he suggested darkly that there were “people at key points in the process, that I just don’t know what their allegiance is.”

Gitmo defense lawyers: defending a man driven insane.

Today in the Washington Post, Joseph Margulies and George Brent Mickum — defense attorneys for Guantanamo detainee Abu Zubaydah — describe the prisoner’s mental insanity after being held by the United States for years:

Regardless of whether he was “insane” to begin with, he has gone through quite an ordeal since his arrest in Pakistan in March 2002. Shuttled through CIA “black sites” around the world, he was subjected to a sustained course of interrogation designed to instill what a CIA training manual euphemistically calls “debility, dependence and dread.” Zubaydah’s world became freezing rooms alternating with sweltering cells. Screaming noise replaced by endless silence. Blinding light followed by dark, underground chambers. Hours confined in contorted positions. And, as we recently learned, Zubaydah was subjected to waterboarding. We do not know what remains of his mind, and we will probably never know what he experienced.

They added that “if we cannot learn the facts and share them with others, the truth is only what the administration reports it to be.” 

U.S. apologizes for misinformation on rendition flights

Earlier today, UK Foreign Secretary David Miliband said to the country’s Parliament that he was “very sorry” for previous denials from British officials about U.S. “rendition flights” refueling on British bases. Today, the United States apologized for providing false information to Britain:

“We came up with fresh information that in short order we shared with the British government,” said State Department spokesman Sean McCormack. “We regret that there was an error in providing initially that inaccurate information to a good friend and ally,” he told reporters. […]

CIA director Michael Hayden said in a statement there had been flawed records kept of the two flights in 2002.

“Our government had told the British that there had been no rendition flights involving their soil or airspace since 9/11. That information, supplied in good faith, turned out to be wrong,” said Hayden.

Hayden added that neither of the individuals on board the U.S. flights were part of the CIA’s “high-value terrorist interrogation program.”

Tape Inquiry: Ex-Spymaster in the Middle

WASHINGTON — It would become known inside the Central Intelligence Agency as “the Italian job,” a snide movie reference to the bungling performance of an agency team that snatched a radical Muslim cleric from the streets of Milan in 2003 and flew him to Egypt — a case that led to criminal charges in Italy against 26 Americans.

Porter J. Goss, the C.I.A. director in 2005 when embarrassing news reports about the operation broke, asked the agency’s independent inspector general to start a review of amateurish tradecraft in the case, like operatives staying in five-star hotels and using traceable credit cards and cellphones.

But Jose A. Rodriguez Jr., now the central figure in a controversy over destroyed C.I.A. interrogation tapes, fought back. A blunt-spoken Puerto Rico native and former head of the agency’s Latin America division, he had been selected by Mr. Goss months earlier to head the agency’s troubled clandestine branch. Mr. Rodriguez told his boss that no inspector general review would be necessary — his service would investigate itself.

It was a protective instinct that ran deep inside the C.I.A.’s fabled Directorate of Operations, the agency’s most powerful branch. The same instinct would resurface months later, when Mr. Rodriguez dispatched a cable to the agency’s Bangkok station ordering the destruction of videotapes that showed C.I.A. officers carrying out harsh interrogations of operatives of Al Qaeda.

“He would always say, ‘I’m not going to let my people get nailed for something they were ordered to do,’ ” said Robert Richer, Mr. Rodriguez’s deputy in the clandestine branch until late 2005, who recalls many conversations with his boss about the tapes.
No Record of Punishment

With the tapes’ destruction now the subject of overlapping Congressional and criminal inquiries, investigators are trying to determine whether Mr. Rodriguez, 59, acted on his own or with at least tacit approval from superiors at the C.I.A. or the White House. Officials now say a recent review by the C.I.A. of Mr. Rodriguez’s personnel file found no record of any reprimand or punishment for his action.

The destruction of the tapes is hardly the first time that the C.I.A.’s mission to take risks and to counter threats abroad has come into conflict with American notions of justice, legality and human rights. From assassination plots in the 1960s to the Iran-contra scandal of the 1980s, American spymasters have found themselves in legal jeopardy for acts they said were lawful and necessary.

The tapes episode and Mr. Rodriguez’s role reflect the intensity of the particular tensions that have played out since the Sept. 11 attacks, a period in which the C.I.A. has been asked to play a new role in capturing, questioning and imprisoning terror suspects, and is now facing questions about whether its conduct crossed the line into illegality.

The events surrounding the tapes unfolded during one of the most tumultuous periods in the C.I.A.’s 60-year history, when the insular and proud clandestine service clashed with the strong-willed team that Mr. Goss, a former Florida congressman, brought with him to the agency. Mr. Rodriguez was “the man in the middle,” Mr. Richer said.

Mr. Rodriguez and Mr. Goss declined to be interviewed for this article.
Mr. Goss was not the first C.I.A. director to discover that operatives who were trained to destabilize foreign governments could sometimes put those same skills to work inside the agency.

In a striking metaphor for Mr. Goss’s powerlessness, as officers of the Directorate of Operations, or D.O., ignored his instructions and shunned his staff, he later told a colleague that “when he pulled a lever to make something happen in the D.O., it wasn’t just that nothing happened,” the colleague recalled. “It was that the lever came off in his hands.”

Mr. Rodriguez joined the C.I.A. in 1976, at a time when the agency was still reeling from Congressional investigations into assassination plots, coup attempts and domestic wiretapping.
With his thick accent and undergraduate and law degrees from the University of Florida, he stood out in the clandestine service, which even in the 1970s was a preserve of the Anglo-Saxon, Ivy League establishment.

But over the next two decades in a series of overseas postings, Mr. Rodriguez ascended the ranks of the directorate’s Latin America division, serving from Peru to Belize and heading the C.I.A. stations in Panama, the Dominican Republic and Mexico.

He ran the kind of espionage missions and covert operations that defined the agency, overshadowing its other task of analyzing intelligence from all sources. Clandestine officers fashioned themselves as the “fighter jocks” of the C.I.A., the swashbuckling spies who risked their lives for their country.

Dominating the Culture

The Directorate of Operations “is a really small part of C.I.A., in terms of budget and people,” said Mark M. Lowenthal, a former assistant agency director. “But in terms of culture, the D.O. dominates the place.” In mid-2005, the directorate was renamed the National Clandestine Service.

A popular boss, Mr. Rodriguez occasionally flashed the maverick spirit prized by clandestine officers. One former colleague recalls that while in Mexico he named his horse Business, instructing subordinates to tell the ambassador or the C.I.A. brass that he was “out on Business.”

By the mid-1990s, Mr. Rodriguez was head of the Latin America division. But his career was nearly cut short when the C.I.A. inspector general reprimanded him in 1997 for a “remarkable lack of judgment” after he intervened to stop jailhouse beatings by guards of a childhood friend arrested on drug charges in the Dominican Republic.

A C.I.A. officer stationed in the Dominican Republic complained to the inspector general that the intervention was improper, according to a former agency official. Mr. Rodriguez was removed as chief of the Latin America division, and later returned to run the station in Mexico.

Shortly after the Sept. 11 attacks, he was tapped to become chief operating officer of the agency’s Counterterrorism Center, based at the C.I.A. headquarters, which was ballooning to nearly 1,500 officers from 300. There was grumbling that Mr. Rodriguez, with no experience in the Muslim world, was given the job. But seven months later, he was promoted to head the center, placing him in charge of the hunt for Qaeda operatives and the interrogation of terrorist suspects in a chain of secret C.I.A. prisons.

By the time Mr. Goss was sworn in as director of central intelligence in late September 2004, the agency’s clandestine service was already embittered by finger-pointing over the Iraq war.
The arrival of the new leader and his outspoken aides, dubbed the “Gosslings” by some within the agency, made matters worse.

Many agency veterans suspected that Mr. Goss and his team were on a White House mission to clean house at the C.I.A. The two top officers of the clandestine service, Stephen R. Kappes and Michael J. Sulick, soon quit.

When Mr. Goss looked for replacements, two agency officers turned him down, fearing that accepting the job would be seen as a betrayal of the clandestine branch. In the end, Mr. Goss offered the job to Mr. Rodriguez.

According to Mary Margaret Graham, a career clandestine officer who recently retired as head of intelligence collection for the director of national intelligence, Mr. Rodriguez had similar concerns about “betraying” fellow undercover officers. He assured her that he had accepted the position “on his terms.”

“I think in hindsight they expected a much more pliable person than they got,” she said.
Mr. Rodriguez traveled to overseas stations more than many predecessors, to build morale and get a firsthand account of operations. One result was that the clandestine branch’s daily operations were often left to his chief of staff, who had worked with Mr. Rodriguez in the Counterterrorism Center. Because she is still under cover, The New York Times is not publishing her name.

Several former C.I.A. officials recall repeated clashes between Mr. Rodriguez’s chief of staff and aides to Mr. Goss on matters from the trivial to the serious.

One serious concern, in the view of Mr. Goss’s staff, was the resistance of Mr. Rodriguez and his chief of staff to outside reviews of such missteps by the clandestine service as the Italian operation. In the matter of the tapes, there was also concern that Mr. Rodriguez and others who were involved in creating them were now pushing to destroy them. “It was just that they weren’t very impartial judges,” said a former C.I.A. official.

Mr. Rodriguez, who was nearing retirement, saw the tapes as a sort of time bomb that, if leaked, threatened irreparable damage to the United States’ image in the Muslim world, his friends say, and posed physical and legal risks to C.I.A. officers on them.

People close to Mr. Goss, who knew from his Congressional years how explosive accusations of cover-up could be, insist he told Mr. Rodriguez the tapes should be preserved.

But if Mr. Goss believed Mr. Rodriguez had disobeyed him, why did he not punish the clandestine service chief? One former C.I.A. official said White House officials had complained about the news media firestorm that accompanied the departure of Mr. Kappes and Mr. Sulick a year earlier, and Mr. Goss felt he could not risk another blowup.

‘Loyal and Dedicated’

Robert S. Bennett, Mr. Rodriguez’s lawyer, said his client was never instructed to preserve the tapes and recalls no discussion of conflict of interest on his part.
“Guys like Jose are loyal and dedicated and take risks to keep the country safe from terrorism,” Mr. Bennett said. “Now, his own government is investigating him, and I think it’s shameful.”

Not long after the tapes were destroyed, Mr. Goss held a management retreat for top agency officials meant in part to soothe tensions among the agency’s dueling branches. There the deputy director for intelligence — the head of analysis — complained openly about the arrogance of the clandestine branch and said undercover officers thought they could get away with anything.

That was too much for Mr. Rodriguez. He stood up in the room, according to one participant in the meeting, and shouted in coarse language that the analysis chief should “wake up and smell the coffee,” because undercover officers were at the “pointy end of the spear.”
The clandestine branch, Mr. Rodriguez was making it clear, would do what it wanted.

Pentagon to challenge interview of 9/11 suspect

Pentagon prosecutors are challenging a military court’s decision to let Osama bin Laden’s driver send written questions to alleged senior al Qaeda members held incommunicado at Guantánamo.

Defense lawyers for Salim Hamdan, 36, want to ask reputed 9/11 mastermind Khalid Sheik Mohammed, known in CIA circles as ”KSM,” and six other ”high-value detainees” what they know about Hamdan’s role in al Qaeda’s organization.

Based on their answers, they will decide whether to call as defense witnesses any of the seven men, who are fellow detainees now but were held and interrogated for years by the CIA.

Last week, Navy Capt. Keith Allred, Hamdan’s military commission judge, ruled that defense lawyers could submit questions to an independent security officer to give to Mohammed and the others held in a restricted prison camp on the base called Camp 7.

The judge ordered that the questions and answers be strictly limited to the time before Hamdan’s capture in November 2001 in Afghanistan. Censors will black out any responses that don’t cover that time period.

Navy Lt. Catheryne Pully, a military commissions spokeswoman, said on Monday that the prosecution would seek ”reconsideration” of the judge’s decision, which the prosecutors believed raised “a lot of complicated issues.”

Intelligence officials have described as national security secrets the CIA sites where Mohammed and 14 other detainees were held before their September 2006 transfer to Guantánamo Bay, Cuba. Now they are held in Camp 7, segregated from other detainees at an undisclosed site on the remote U.S. Navy base. The prison camps’ spokesman, Navy Cmdr. Rick Haupt, has not been able to say whether the location of the camp itself is a national security secret.

Allred gave the prosecution until Tuesday to find an independent security officer — who does not work for the prosecution — to handle the defense lawyers’ questions and detainees’ answers, if they choose to reply.

Hamdan attorney Andrea Prasow, a civilian on the Defense Department team, said the Pentagon prosecutors agreed to identify the security officer but notified the team on Saturday that they would ask for reconsideration of the question.

Hamdan’s lawyers wanted to meet the men in person to assess their credibility as potential witnesses at Hamdan’s summertime trial.

The lead defense lawyer, Navy Lt. Cmdr. Brad Mizer, said the attorneys also sought face-to-face meetings with the detainees because, after years in CIA custody, the captives might suspect written questions as an interrogation trick.

Allred’s remedy to the defense lawyers mirrors a 2003 formula proposed by a federal judge at the civilian trial of Zacarias Moussaoui, who eventually pleaded guilty to providing material support for al Qaeda and is now serving a life sentence.

In that case, the Justice Department refused to let the defense send questions to Mohammed, the reputed 9/11 mastermind. At the time, he was under CIA interrogation, and the government argued his testimony would harm the war effort.

In this instance, the men Hamdan’s lawyers seek to question are now among 15 former CIA detainees in military custody at Guantánamo.

• Mohammed, who according to Pentagon transcripts confessed to plotting the 9/11 attacks along with a long string of other al Qaeda suicide bombings, as well as beheading Wall Street Journal correspondent Daniel Pearl in Pakistan.

• Ramzi bin al Shib, a Yemeni and Mohammed’s alleged go-between with some of the 9/11 attackers.

• Walid bin Attash, another Yemeni who supposedly trained some of the hijackers.

• Mustafa al Hawsawi, who supposedly helped get funds to the Sept. 11 suicide squads.

Those four men were identified as candidates for execution at Guantánamo as part of a complex, six-detainee prosecution the Pentagon unveiled last week. Their charge sheets await approval from a Bush administration appointee. None of them yet have lawyers.

In addition, Hamdan’s lawyers asked to interview Abu Faraj al Libi, Abdul Rahim al Nashiri and Abdul Hadi al Iraqi because of their knowledge of other al Qaeda operations in Afghanistan not tied to the Sept. 11 strikes.