The Mauritanian (Guantánamo Diary)

Nonfiction | Autobiography / Memoir | Adult | Published in 2015

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Summary

Background

Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Introduction

Part 1, Chapter 1

Part 2, Chapter 2

Part 2, Chapter 3

Part 2, Chapter 4

Part 3, Chapter 5

Part 3, Chapter 6

Part 3, Chapter 7

Key Figures

Themes

Index of Terms

Important Quotes

Essay Topics

Themes

Depersonalization and Dehumanization

A primary theme in The Mauritanian is the depersonalization and dehumanization of prisoners at the Guantanamo Bay detention camp (as occurs in most prisons to varying degrees). “Depersonalization” refers to the erasure of detainees’ individual traits. “Dehumanization” is a broader term that signals the treatment of detainees as less than human and ranges from human rights abuses to war crimes. Every chapter in the book features examples of both. In some cases, depersonalization and dehumanization overlap.

During the author’s detention at Guantanamo, depersonalization took several forms. Some were obvious, such as wearing the orange prison jumpsuit, being called by a number (760 in the author’s case), and living in a highly structured detention-camp community. The detainees were essentially “disappeared.” Their names, nationalities, and location at Guantanamo were unknown to the outside world until Associated Press v. US Department of Defense, in which the Associated Press sought this data starting in 2004 through the Freedom of Information Act, or FOIA (Associated Press v. US Department of Defense, 410 F. Supp. 2d 147 [S.D.N.Y. 2006]). The detainees—who were deliberately placed into legal limbo and held indefinitely without being charged—were denied the ability to engage in hobbies, practice their faith, or contact their families like the convicted felons in a regular prison. However, erasure of individual identities went even further. The detainees were depersonalized when they were hooded or blindfolded and earmuffed for transportation, torture, or both. In such a state, one could no longer identify them by their physical features because they were deliberately concealed. Likewise, the symbolic censorship redactions of The Mauritanian emphasize the identity erasure of the detainees.

Depersonalization overlapped with dehumanization. Hooding and earmuffing detainees were part of the “Enhanced Interrogation Techniques” in the context of the US War on Terror. These techniques involved several types of torture, including depriving detainees of sleep by making them drink excessive amounts of water, beatings, sexual assault and humiliation, noise and unbearably loud music, cold rooms, stress positions and heavy chains, simulated kidnappings, and threats against family members (among other things). According to human rights advocate, Larry Siems (the author’s editor), “Secret prisons were opened because you can’t torture people in public” (“Writing Guantánamo Diary | Highlights.” De Bali. 1 Sep. 2022). The US government explained Guantanamo’s secrecy as a military necessity. In addition, detainees were racially and religiously profiled—and consequently, being an Arab Muslim equaled being a terrorist in many cases, without evidence. In Slahi’s case, the interrogators obtained “evidence”—based on a coerced confession after a series of torture methods—that was later proven false. The detainees were also denied basic cultural needs, such as practicing their religion through daily prayer or having a copy of the Koran. Overall, depersonalization and dehumanization were used to “break” detainees into cooperating with the US government and to identify possible culprits of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. However, it was then that the validity of confessions obtained under torture was seriously questioned—and most detainees were never charged. Slahi concluded that if the democratic US, which portrays itself as the leader of the free world, operates a covert program to torture people kidnapped from their countries without solid evidence, then the US has no right to lecture other countries—and this behavior gives authoritarian states carte blanche to act even worse.

Racism, Islamophobia, and the US War on Terror

Racism and Islamophobia in the framework of the US War on Terror are one of the author’s key themes. “Islamophobia” describes prejudicial attitudes toward Muslims. The War on Terror—and the media propaganda around it—linked Islam with terrorism (See: Background, which examines the geopolitical dimension of the War on Terror in detail). The author identifies the Guantanamo staff’s expressions of racism and Islamophobia, from slurs about the ethnocultural makeup of Guantanamo detainees to insulting or forbidding detainees’ religious practices during their imprisonment. The author doesn’t typically use such terms himself; instead, he quotes the camp staff in the process of describing his experiences, allowing readers to draw their own conclusions.

Slahi was cognizant that the US and Canadian governments linked Islam with terrorism in the framework of the US War on Terror from the onset. During an early interrogation, the author stated, “I think his [Ahmed Ressam’s] whole story was a fake, to unlock the terrorism budget and hurt Muslims” (80). Upon arriving at Guantanamo, he realized that of an estimated 780 detainees, most were Arab Muslim men from different countries. All were suspected of aiding or directly participating in terrorism against Americans or their allies. However, given that only 11 were charged, let alone convicted, most were held on insufficient evidence for years, if not decades. Thus, it wasn’t difficult to conclude that racial and religious profiling was part of the criteria. For example, an interrogator told Slahi, “You’re Arab, you’re young, you went to Jihad, you speak foreign languages, you’ve been to many countries, you’re a graduate in a technical discipline” (192).

Additionally, the Guantanamo staff used the carrot-and-stick method to reward or punish detainees. However, they were only rewarded for the “[t]ruth as it’s officially defined” (316). In many cases, elaborate torture methods elicited such “truth”—that is, false confessions. One reward for cooperation was being granted limited permission to practice one’s religion. Slahi notes that Camp Delta was designed with arrows that pointed to Mecca—so that detainees would know in which direction to pray—and played a call to prayer five times a day. However, detainees were generally forbidden from possessing religious literature. After Slahi’s polygraph tests—when the torture eased—someone slipped him a copy of the Koran via his laundry. In contrast, the punishment, as part of the torture, involved insults to Islam. The staff knew that the detainees were deeply religious and would be far more affected by this behavior than a secular individual would. For instance, the interrogators smashed the Koran into the concrete floor. Overall, in the author’s view, the ban on standard religious practices that were an intrinsic part of the detainees’ identities was highly abusive:

The U.S. has always repeated that the war is not against the Islamic religion—which is very prudent because it is strategically impossible to fight against a religion as big as Islam—and back there the U.S. was showing the rest of the world how religious freedom ought to be maintained. But in the secret camps, the war against the Islamic religion was more than obvious. Not only was there no sign to Mecca, but the ritual prayers were also forbidden. Reciting the Koran was forbidden. Possessing the Koran was forbidden. Fasting was forbidden. Practically any Islamic-related ritual was strictly forbidden. I am not talking here about hearsay; I am talking about something I experienced myself. I don’t believe that the average American is paying taxes to wage war against Islam, but I do believe that there are people in the government who have a big problem with the Islamic religion (261-62).

Thus, not only did the Guantanamo staff suspect detainees of crimes, in part, because of their Arab Muslim identities, but they also weaponized these identities against detainees as part of the “Enhanced Interrogation Techniques.”

The Absurdities of Life as a Detainee

The absurd nature of captivity at the Guantanamo Bay detention camp is a recurring theme in The Mauritanian. Absurdities take on different expressions, such as repetition and arbitrariness, and make functioning at Guantanamo even more difficult for detainees. Even the official name, “detention camp” (rather than something like “secret prison”) is an absurd euphemism—and somewhat of an oxymoron given that “camp” often connotes structured fun, learning, and practicing skills (which were themselves “detained”).

Slahi notes the arbitrary nature of justice in US jurisdiction. He and more than 700 other detainees were kidnapped from different countries and placed in a secret US prison without access to legal due process. Slahi points out that the US is a democracy but relies on third-party countries to torture or evade its own laws in secret. Detainees weren’t arrested but were held indefinitely. Not knowing how long detention would last is one reason Slahi was hyper-conscious about the passing of time—from observing his interrogators’ watches to using the Koran to count the time period of 60 days over and over again. The absurdity of his detention is evident in this excerpt:

‘You must admit to what you have done,’ Samantha said, gesturing to a big binder in front of her.

‘What have I done?’

‘You know what you’ve done’ (209).

Another key feature of the absurdity of captivity at Guantanamo was repetition. Detainees were asked the same questions daily and had the same answers, which the author calls “an endless Catch-22” (211). At one point, they had what each new interrogator had to say memorized. Of course, convicted felons are subject to a daily schedule in a regular prison. Even the 9-to-5 routine of an office worker may feel dreary. Many authors have addressed the loss of meaning through such repetition. Arguably, one of the most absurd examples is Franz Kafka’s 1915 Metamorphosis, in which the protagonist turns into giant vermin, which symbolizes his life as a salesman who is the sole breadwinner, is drowning in debt, and has little control over his life. In Slahi’s case, however, he wasn’t convicted of a crime, nor did he choose a soul-crushing 9-to-5 office job, which makes his ordeal that of a “victim of circumstance,” adding to its absurdity. Slahi likens the absurd repetition to which he and the other detainees were subjected to the 1993 film Groundhog Day, in which the protagonist relives the same day countless times. The only way to deal with the absurdity of a detainee’s life was humor:

And so on, in an endless recitation that all the interrogators recited when they met with their detainees. Most detainees couldn’t help laughing when they had to hear this Groundhog Day nonsense; in fact, it was the only entertainment we got in the interrogation booth. When his interrogator told him, ‘I know you are innocent,’ one of my fellow detainees laughed hard and responded, ‘I’d rather be a criminal and sitting home with my kids’ (306).

Still another absurd feature of Slahi’s detention was the repeated reference to freedom. At the very beginning of the author’s capture, an interrogator told him, “Wahrheit macht frei,” or “Truth will set you free” (14). The author recalls the related dark lines, “Arbeit macht frei,” or “Work will set you free,” from the World War II Auschwitz concentration camp. Similarly, Guantanamo featured a sign that read, “Honor bound to defend freedom” (312). Slahi asked the obvious question, “How could you possibly be defending freedom, if you’re taking it away?” (312).

The redactions in the first edition of this book, Guantánamo Diary, likewise exemplify the detention camp’s absurdities. When the original book was published in 2015, it was heavily redacted. However, the redactions involved not only items that were potentially of national security concern but also those that seemed absurd. These included removal of “she/her” pronouns in cases in which female soldiers sexually assaulted detainees and of the word “tears.” The latter was evidently censored to prevent the book from eliciting emotion in readers. The author chose to reference these redactions in the uncensored version of the book, The Mauritanian, as a reminder of the heavy censorship and to underscore their absurd nature.