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This opinion piece ran in the Hartford Courant
on Sunday, July 28, 2002.
AN ARMY OF POLICE AT BUSH'S DISPOSAL
By Christopher H. Pyle
The Bush administration, having reduced the wall of separation
between church and state, now proposes to break down that other
wall that keeps soldiers out of law enforcement.
As part of their war on terrorism, Bush officials are calling
upon Congress to relax or repeal the law that forbids the military
to get involved in civilian law enforcement. Their target is the
Posse Comitatus Act of 1878, which says, in effect, that soldiers
cannot ride in posses or, more precisely, arrest and try civilians.
The law was adopted to end military rule in the South and to prevent
federal troops from suppressing labor unions or chasing criminals
as they used to chase fugitive slaves.
The act expresses the long-held view that law enforcement is
a civilian function, and largely local in nature. Federal troops
should be used, as they have been since the 1790s, mainly to put
down riots that police and state militias cannot handle.
The law also reflects the founders' anger at the militarization
of colonial government. That was a major grievance in our Declaration
of Independence and inspired several constitutional provisions,
including the Second Amendment, which secures the right to bear
arms as part of a state militia, and the Third Amendment, which
prohibits the quartering of troops in private homes in times of
peace.
All this seems like arcane history to the Bush administration,
which would rather use soldiers for homeland security than fund
civilian law enforcement adequately. When money and personnel
are wanted to guard the Mexican border, spy on the civil-rights
movement, chase drug smugglers in the Caribbean or guard airports
against terrorists, our well-funded, well-staffed military is
always a tempting resource to raid.
Quick fixes of this sort help politicians address crises without
seeming to raise taxes. The long-term damage that such raids do
to civil liberties, military readiness and effective law enforcement
are for somebody else to worry about. The important thing is to
appear to be doing something, and doing it fast.
Some administration officials want to involve the Army's Northern
Command in law enforcement, apparently with no legal impediment
to spying on, arresting, incarcerating and maybe even executing
alleged terrorists. By associating these functions with the military,
"war" and "intelligence," they hope to evade
restrictions imposed by the Bill of Rights and the federal rules
of evidence.
The militarization of American government has had a long and
sorry history.
During the Civil War, Secretary of State William Seward boasted
that he could ring a bell on his desk and order the indefinite
detention of anyone in the United States. When military commissions
went further and condemned civilians to death, the Supreme Court
put its foot down, ruling, in Ex parte Milligan, that soldiers
can detain people within a war zone, but cannot interfere with
law enforcement so long as the civilian courts are functioning.
The justices also held that civilians seized by the military have
the right to ask a federal court to examine the legality of their
detention (through a habeas corpus petition) and, if necessary,
order their release.
Last fall, the president attacked this basic principle. He claimed
that he had the power, as our commander in a pseudo-war, to detain
alleged terrorists indefinitely, try them before military tribunals
and execute them - all without following the Constitution or the
federal rules of evidence, or opening their convictions to judicial
review.
This breathtaking assertion of military supremacy is authorized,
his lawyers claimed, by a couple of World War II cases that allowed
military commissions to try enemy soldiers, in time of declared
war, for operating behind our lines in civilian clothes (Ex parte
Quirin) or committing war crimes (In re Yamashita). The war on
terrorism, they say, has erased the distinction between civilians
and soldiers. It has also abolished the distinction between declared
and undeclared wars, and transformed the United States into a
combat zone where the Constitution may be disregarded by soldiers
in pursuit of terrorists.
In short, by labeling a civilian a terrorist (or enemy combatant),
the government can arrest him in Chicago (like Jose Padilla, who
dreamed of making a "dirty bomb"), hustle him off to
a military jail in South Carolina (far from his civilian lawyer),
and keep him there forever without trial. Or it can ship him off
to our naval base in Cuba, convene a kangaroo court and send him
to the gallows.
Wartime leaders always violate civil liberties, because they
want to detain suspects indefinitely and perhaps kill a few.
Abraham Lincoln detained about 13,000 civilians without trial,
most in military prisons, until they swore loyalty oaths to the
Union. Franklin Roosevelt herded 110,000 persons of Japanese ancestry
into military prisons for the duration of World War II. Lincoln's
detentions might be excused so long as Gen. Robert Lee's army
threatened the nation's capital; that was a war zone. But Roosevelt's
"internment" of Japanese Americans was a racial outrage,
for which Congress eventually apologized and paid reparations.
Bush's militarization of law enforcement may seem minor by comparison,
but it could easily escalate in the wake of another terrorist
attack, especially if Congress repeals the Posse Comitatus Act.
If it does, the public is not likely to object. Americans sing
about the "land of the free and the home of the brave,"
but most are too fearful for their own security to stand up for
the rights of alleged terrorists. They will not care much who
makes the arrest, runs the prison or carries out the execution,
so long as members of their crowd are not targeted. Latin words
like habeas corpus and posse comitatus mean nothing to most voters,
who slept through history in high school.
Bush's people know this, and are thus emboldened to overstate
the military's authority and breach what is left of the wall between
civil and military functions.
The question is: Will wiser heads prevail?
Christopher H. Pyle teaches constitutional law
and civil liberties at Mount Holyoke College in South Hadley,
Mass. He is the author of "Military Surveillance of Civilian
Politics, 1967-1970" and co-author of "The President,
Congress, and the Constitution."
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