It
was in England, my country of birth, back in the seventeenth century, that the
principle of habeas corpus was first
codified. This writ demands that any individual under arrest be taken to a
court of law. Historically, it has served as a bulwark against unlawful or
arbitrary state detention. The insistence that a detainee must be informed of
the charges held against him, brought to a legitimate court within a reasonable
timeframe, and granted the immediate right to advocacy, embellishes further
what is arguably the most virtuous legal principle ever to spring forth from
the human mind. Neither freedom nor humanity can exist without it.
In
1929, the Third Geneva Convention, relative to Treatment of Prisoners of War,
was ratified worldwide. This, too, embodies the noblest of man-made values. A
civilized basis for war might seem oxymoronic, bizarre even, but the ruling
that even the most hellish forms of organized physical violence must be conducted
with restraint is another proud milestone in human social evolution.
Almost
twenty years ago to the day, I visited Kanchanaburi, a rural outpost of Western
Thailand. It is famous – or rather, infamous – for being the site where, in
1942, Allied prisoners of war were forced, by savage Japanese (and Korean)
captors, to build a railway bridge across the River Kwai (Figure 70.1). While
there, I walked across that same bridge, alone, and contemplated its history
which I had taken the time to learn (Figure 70.2). Tens of thousands of
prisoners had died from disease, torture and other acts of indescribable
inhumanity (Figure 70.3). Survivors returned home emotionally ruined.
Figure
70.1: Opened in 1977, the JEATH Museum, at Kanchanaburi, commemorates the human
tragedy of the Death Railway.
Copyright
© 1994 Paul Spradbery
Figure
70.2: The Bridge on the River Kwai
Copyright
© 1994 Paul Spradbery
Figure
70.3: Allied war graves at Chong Kai Cemetery are lovingly tended on a daily
basis by local people, young and old.
Copyright
© 1994 Paul Spradbery
Harrowing
tales of the ‘Death Railway’ were immortalized in the Oscar-winning 1957 film Bridge on the River Kwai, based on a
novel by Pierre Boulle (1912-1994). I watched it (on videotape) after my trip.
Near the beginning, a Japanese commandant demands that all prisoners work to construct
the bridge. A brave British officer, Lt Col Nicholson, played by Alec Guinness
(1914-2000), responds by reading to him from a small book of Articles of the
Geneva Convention (Figure 70.4), which state that officers are exempt from
physical labour. The commandant seizes the book, slaps Nicholson’s face with it
and threatens to have him shot. Regardless, the officer puts moral principle
before personal safety and stands firm. He is then incarcerated in an iron box,
without food or water. This is the only scene in the only film ever to have moved
me to tears. The officer’s righteousness and quiet dignity are overwhelming. I
have never watched it since.
Figure
70.4: Lt Col Nicholson (right) quotes from the Geneva Convention
Copyright
expired
A
couple of days ago, I went to see a similar film, Railway Man, at the cinema (Figures 70.5 and 70.6). Starring Colin
Firth (Figure 70.7) and Nicole Kidman, it dramatizes the autobiography of Eric
Lomax (1919-2012), a (real) British officer brutalized by the Japanese at
Kanchanaburi when he was just 22 years old. I shall not spoil the ending, save
to say that it offers redemption and hope, as films generally do. Implicit is
the assumption that, whereas the Japanese might have resorted to malevolence
to achieve their ends, the Allied countries, armed with their simple books of
ethical words, were above it.
Figure
70.5: Tickets for ‘The Railway Man’
Copyright
© 2014 Odeon Cinemas
Figure
70.6: The official movie poster
Copyright
© 2013 Railway Man Pty Ltd, Railway Man Ltd, Screen Queensland Pty Ltd, Screen
NSW and Screen Australia
Figure
70.7: Colin Firth, as Eric Lomax, walks along the Kwai Bridge
Copyright
© 2013 Railway Man Pty Ltd, Railway Man Ltd, Screen Queensland Pty Ltd, Screen
NSW and Screen Australia
Fast
forward to the 21st century, in particular post-9/11. After the 2001 ‘terrorist’ bombings of New York City and Washington, President George Bush Jnr. told the
world that it was about to witness the USA at its best.
History
will judge Bush’s words and subsequent actions – and so will I. Following the Allied
invasion of Iraq in March 2003, whereby American and British leaders lied to
their peoples in order to prosecute an illegal war, it transpired that American military
personnel had committed despicable violations against prisoners of war at Abu
Ghraib, near Baghdad. These included sexual abuse, torture, both physical and psychological,
and murder. Lt Col Nicholson’s small book of words perished at the same time.
Worse
still was the establishment of a US detention camp at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. Here,
prisoners taken in Iraq (and Afghanistan, Africa and Southeast Asia) were subjected
to calculated forms of torture and degradation (Figure 70.8). As the camp was
not, technically, on US soil, due legal process, including 200 writs of habeas corpus, were deviously circumvented.
As for the Geneva Convention, the detainees were informed that they did not
qualify for any of its protection. It
was only in 2008 that the US Supreme Court ruled, under strenuous protest from
the Bush administration, that detainees should, belatedly, be granted basic access
to the judicial system.
Figure
70.8: History re-enacted, by the United States, at Guantanamo Bay
Copyright
© 2002 US Department of Defense
The
words of habeas corpus and the Geneva
Conventions once elevated the Allied nations to the highest moral ground. I
doubt they will be permitted to reoccupy it any time soon; and nor should they, having relinquished
any right to do so.
Copyright
© 2014 Paul Spradbery
