Les carnets de Guantanamo

.. the guard put the mask back on my nose and my mouth. "Sir, I cannot breathe... MP. . . . MP". The same guy showed up once more, but instead of taking the mask of my nose, he took the plug out of my ear and said, "Forget about it!" and immediately put the ear plug back. It was harsh, but it was the only way not to smother. I was panicking. I had just enough air, but the only way to survive was to convince the brain to be satisfied with the tiny bit of air it got.

The bathroom inside our shared cells was also an open barrel, which detainees in punishment cleaned every day for every cell. It was very disgusting and smelled so bad. Being from a third world country, I have seen many unclean bathrooms, but none of them could hold a candle to Bagram's.

The Koran was available to detainees who asked for one. I don't remember asking myself, because the handling by the guards was just disrespectful; they threw it to each other like a water bottle when they passed the holy book through. I didn't want to be a reason for humiliating God's word. Moreover, thank God, I know the Koran by heart.

To be honest, I do not know why many of the things I wrote were censored, and I cannot follow the logic of many of the redactions. Why on earth would the U.S. government censor a poem I wrote for my interrogator as a parody of a well-known literary classic? Why would it censor the fake names that a group of my guards gave themselves when they decided to take on the roles of characters from 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑠? Why would it censor the names of people I was being questioned about during interrogations, when it did everything it could to link me publicly to these same people? All of this supposedly had something to do with "𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺", but I wasn't convinced. I had been delivered to Jordan, then to Bagram, then to Guantánamo because of "𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺". I was abused in Jordan and Bagram and tortured in GTMO because of "𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺". And I would always think, 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑤𝑒 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑏𝑦 "𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑦"?

I was elated. I cleaned the whole compound and took extra care of my garden. One of my guards was telling me not to bother, since I was going home. But remembering the history of Guantánamo, and thinking it might once again be used for refugees, I wanted the camp to look as good as possible for those who might be sent there after me.

But I believed in books, and in the people who read them.

Because detainees weren't allowed to attend tribunal sessions where the so-called secret evidence was presented—how something can be “secret” and “evident” at the same time I still don't understand—it felt as though I was defending myself against an invisible army of attorneys.

The pen was challenging, a highly bendable piece of plastic, more like a flimsy ink filler than a pen. Writing with it was like trying to get a straight answer out of a corrupt politician.

Je regrettais de ne pas avoir été remis aux Américains, chez qui j’aurais au moins pu m’appuyer sur quelque chose, comme la loi. Bien sûr, aux États-Unis, le gouvernement et la politique en général gagnent de plus en plus de terrain ces derniers temps, au détriment de la loi. Le gouvernement est très malin ; il fait appel à la terreur qui plombe le coeur des citoyens pour les convaincre de renoncer à leur liberté et à leur intimité. Malgré cela, il faudra sans doute encore un peu de temps avant que le gouvernement américain ne tienne plus du tout compte de la loi, comme c’est le cas dans le tiers-monde et dans les régimes communistes.

La violence produit naturellement de la violence. La violence est le seul prêt que l'on est certain de se voir rembourser. Cela peut prendre un peu de temps, mais vous récolterez toujours ce que vous avez semé.