Amnesty for the Defense

The atrocity stories flow into the spartan London headquarters of Amnesty International from all over the world: political prisoners beaten, shocked, drugged or maimed for the crime of criticizing their government. Says American Lawyer James Becket, who is preparing a worldwide survey of the subject for A.I.: "Rulers of the past often openly institutionalized torture to better defend their power and privilege. Their counterparts today solemnly deny it publicly while they are busily refining the technology of torture and the theory of order without law."

In a sobering, 40-page report issued in London last week, Amnesty International zeroed in on such practices in South Viet Nam, where, it estimates, more than 100,000 people have been jailed as political prisoners. Describing varieties of torture in agonizing detail, A.I. said: "There can be no doubt that [torture] is widely used in the areas controlled by the [Saigon government] not only as an instrument of intimidation but as an end in itself." The report is another step in A.I.'s newly launched campaign to "raise a public outcry throughout the world until torture becomes as unthinkable as slavery."

For A.I., the anti-torture campaign represents a broadening of its original mandate. A sort of Red Cross of political warfare, the organization has hitherto limited itself to seeking freedom for political prisoners round the world. Since its founding in 1961, it has taken up the cases of some 13,000 such captives; as a result of its efforts, more than 7,500 have been released.

Among those who have been helped by A.I. are Ghana's former Finance Minister Joseph H. Mensah. who was imprisoned after a recent coup; an Indonesian novelist held without trial for eight years; and Rhodesian Journalist Peter Niesewand, who was first sentenced to prison and then deported for violating his country's rigid Official Secrets Act (TIME, May 14). A.I. makes an almost sanctimonious effort to remain politically neutral; individual cases are carefully investigated to prevent the organization from being used for essentially nonpolitical crimes.

Started on a shoestring by London Lawyer Peter Benenson, A.I. has recently grown in both size and influence. In 1971 its annual budget was $130,000; this year it is $425,000. About 70% of its money comes from contributions by members, the rest from foundations and private sources. Along with a full-time staff of 50, it now has more than 30,000 members in 61 countries. A.I. is accorded consultative status at the United Nations, the Council of Europe, the Organization of American States and the Organization of African Unity.

One of its favorite tactics is a massive international mail campaign on behalf of its "adopted" prisoners. The letters are written by A.I. members that have specific responsibility for individual prisoners. Says Amnesty Chairman

Sean MacBride, a onetime Foreign Minister of the Irish Republic: "The avalanche of mail bags is still the biggest single annoyance to most governments.

Mail piles up. It's a nuisance. Sooner or later the matter is at Cabinet level and everyone is wondering whether the prisoner is worth all this trouble. The answer is frequently no."

Spreading Repression. National vanity is another target. "Politicians want to be loved," says Amnesty Spokesman Mark Grantham. "When we're alleging all over the world that they're acting in a rather crude way, it embarrasses them. It hurts for their ambassador at the U.N., who is there to make an impressive speech against world hunger, to be asked about a sordid case of torture."

The organization's move into the area of political torture was hastened by the fact that such repression seems to be spreading. The Soviet Union's habit of putting dissenters into mental institutions, for example, is now being copied in Argentina. Behavior-altering techniques--like torturing a prisoner while he is being shown slides of his family--are showing up in Brazil. (The prisoner comes to associate his wife and children with pain--and the effects seem to endure.) In Greece, a favorite technique is the falanga, in which the soles of the feet are beaten to a pulp with sticks. South Viet Nam is accused of using a well-known form of torture in which soapy water is pumped into a victim's stomach and then forced out through the nostrils.

Amnesty International contends that some governments not only practice torture but indirectly admit it to intimidate other dissenters. Margaret Papandreou (wife of the former Greek Cabinet minister) charges that Greece's military government "wants people to know that it is torturing prisoners"--although it imprisons those who dare discuss the matter openly.

To get its anti-torture campaign rolling, Amnesty is seeking a million signatures to a petition drawn from Article Five of the U.N.'s Universal Declaration of Human Rights: "No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment." The petition urges the U.N. to "immediately outlaw the torture of prisoners throughout the world."

Until the U.N. attains more political clout, that call may be ignored. But as far as Amnesty International is concerned, a start will have been made.

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