Surprise Surprise

I who have stood dumb
when your betraying sisters,
cauled in tar,
wept by the railings,

who would connive
in civilized outrage
yet understand the exact
and tribal, intimate revenge.

– from 'Punishment', Seamus Heaney, 1975

Last night the ten o’ clock news announced that the BBC could definitively reveal collaboration between British security forces and members of Gaddafi’s regime. MI6, along with the US’ CIA, appear to have worked intimately with Gaddafi’s former head of foreign affairs Moussa Koussa, in order to apprehend and even torture terror suspects. All these revelations have been met with shock and apprehension.

My only question is, why?

I watched Jeremy Bowen listen to his source. The source told of how it was widely known that the anti-Gaddafi rebel (now leader of the rebels in Tripoli), Abdul Hakim Belhaj had been tortured by Libyan police. Furthermore, after this torture, he had been interrogated by the CIA. Bowen’s face was one of wide-eyed amazement. “Surely not the Americans?” his face suggested.

Likewise as the chummy messages sent between an MI6 agent and Moussa Koussa about Christmas lunch were disclosed, Bowen’s demeanour was one of similarly bemused puzzlement. “How could we have been involved with such people?” And even more astonishing we were led to believe, was the fact that not only were the British and Americans involved, but we were involved right until the decisive turn of the Arab Spring uprisings.

For more info on exactly how this is unraveling click here:

But, the point I’m getting at (and the reason I’ve linked to the above article as opposed to anything else) is the level of surprise that Bowen and others have shown. Even the above article’s title implies its shocking MI6 knew about Belhaj’s torture. I just don’t get it.

Even Bowen begrudgingly pointed it out: Our astonishment should not come from the fact that we were ever involved with Gaddafi or that we knew what he was doing; it should come at our realization of just how soon we switched our allegiance.

Let me explain. As usual, blunt economics goes a long way to explaining a fair amount. Libya is a country rich in resources. The West needs oil, gas etc. and was willing to work with a country in order to gain them. If this meant turning a blind eye to past crimes like the Lockerbie bombing then fine. If it meant ignoring flagrant breaches of human rights then fine as well. Libya is an independent North-African nation, it could ostensibly do what it wants. As long as that included selling us what we needed.

In the case of Lockerbie however, the revelation that vague threats were made lest Abdelbaset al-Megrahi should not be released are genuinely disturbing. Nevertheless, even this level of British (and, one assumes, American) submission is relatively easy to explain.

Libya is a North-African nation that, until recently, was led by a dictator in charge of ruthless police and military forces. Such forces, in the fight against terror, could no doubt have been considered valuable to Western nations.

This was a nation unafraid to use its regime’s ability to torture. Post 9/11 western nations, locked in an endless war on terror but bound to respect human rights by law, could freely hand over intelligence leading to the arrest of suspects, safe in the knowledge that any potential Al-Qaeda suspects would receive ‘appropriate’ treatment. Whatever the impact of Gaddafi’s control was on the Libyan people, it was deemed permissible in the light of its long-term gains.

Understand that the case I’m making however, is not one for a lack of repentance. Without question, our collaboration with Gaddafi’s regime led to its increased strength over the years and certainly helped in prolonging its life. This is a fact one might idealistically say we have sought to redress in the past year through the UN and must continue to redress in the coming years.

What I am saying though, is that we need not be surprised. In books, TV and films for years now the subject of doing deals with the devil has been trodden over, dug up and trampled on for so long that is has now become so hackneyed it’s second nature. Surely now we are almost instinctively familiar with the plot line where in order to get on with our comfortable lives, people high up in the authorities made pacts and agreements with people we might not necessarily like who do things ways we definitely wouldn’t do ourselves. Why then are we surprised when we encounter it in real life?

Added to that, the fact MI6 knew about Belhaj’s torture is at least evidence that our security services know about something. Yes, they let it happen and torture is wrong, but spare me the hyperbolous outrage. OF COURSE WE KNEW. They’re our secret service. They are in charge of information. We should be angry we let it happen, we should be angry the public of Libya had to suffer because of our inaction but for God’s sake what did we really think was happening in a country under a forty-year dictatorship?

This is a century that has seen Guantanamo Bay, Abu Ghraib and will doubtless go on to see much, much more. I suppose all I’m asking is if we are really surprised that this kind of double-standard policy still takes place? The most I could manage was a cynical shrug of unsurprised condemnation.

In the films, it’s always one of two things. The cynical chief of staff or politician who made “the hard decisions no one else could make” and the young, idealistic recruit who sticks to the rules because “the rules are there so we don’t become like them”. The message of the story unfolds: good and bad aren’t necessarily so clearly set apart. But in films we can try and sort them out and hopefully end it with a nice explosion and a kiss. Nowadays that’s called romantic.

All I can say is that I know that’s not how it works. I can desperately hope for a world in which everything is clear cut but I’m simply not naïve enough to believe that’s either the case or ultimately, likely. In short, if I go looking to expose corruption and injustice, I shouldn’t be surprised if and when I find it. Even if it's from our own side.

We should be angry we weren’t angrier before.