Dateline: 11/26/01
Since the bloody terrorist attacks of
September 11, I've written a series of columns pointing out the
dangers inherent in the government's new "war against terrorism."
From military tribunals to national ID cards to expanded police
power, it's grim stuff to write, and probably no more pleasant to
read.
It'd be nice if a column on civil liberties could be just a tad
more upbeat.
All of this unhappy news leads to a logical question: Is America
becoming a police state?
First off, while the term "police state" is tossed around with an
intuitive understanding of what it means, it's rarely defined in a
specific way. For what it's worth, my Random House College
Dictionary defines a police state as "a nation in which the police,
esp. a secret police, suppresses any act that conflicts with
government policy."
Well ... that definition obscures more than it illuminates,
suggesting that perhaps it's time that I traded in the ratty old
Random House for something with a bit more precision. After all,
every government uses its police, secret or otherwise, to
enforce its laws, since breaking those laws is against government
policy. That puts every nation at risk of being defined as a police
state.
So much for the Random House College Dictionary.
Let's instead suggest that a "police state" is one in which the
police are given relatively free rein, with few restraints on their
power. That may mean that they have blanket authority to be
exercised over the hoi polloi, or it may mean that the laws are so
all-encompassing that everybody is at risk of breaking some statute
or other and so running afoul of the law enforcement authorities.
In this sense, then, the United States are, indeed approaching
police state status, if they're not already there. Since September
11, the thrust of the government's response has been to loosen
restraints on law enforcement authorities. While the police have not
been given carte blanche, they've certainly been handed
greatly expanded authority to conduct wiretaps, detain suspects and
demand private records based on a lower threshold of evidence than
before.
Of the obnoxiously named USA PATRIOT Act, an important piece of
legislation that most members of Congress hadn't even read before
they cast their vote, the Portland Herald (Maine) said:
The act broadly expands domestic law enforcement
surveillance powers, allowing the government to request
information from companies during criminal investigations much
more easily and for much less cause than in the past.
Said "information" includes any data that the companies may have
compiled on you in the course of doing business.
Even in the absence of legislation, the Bush administration has
been exercising rather broad power on its own say-so. In particular,
many civil libertarians, immigration advocates and even members of
Congress would like to know what's being done with the great many detainees
who were taken into custody in the wake of the terrorist attacks,
and have been held without charges.
The Hill, which covers congressional doings, recently
reported:
The chairman and ranking Republican on the Senate
Judiciary Committee are increasingly frustrated by the failure of
Attorney General John Ashcroft to respond to any inquiries
concerning his broad new powers in dealing with accused
terrorists. ...
Lawmakers want information about the more than 1,000 people
detained in the criminal investigation, changes allowing law
enforcement to listen in on lawyer-client communications in some
cases, what law enforcement might have done to prevent the
attacks, and how to ensure civil liberties under sweeping
anti-terrorism legislation signed into law.
Of course, these are the same legislators who voted for the USA
PATRIOT Act without reading the damned thing, so don't expect
too much.
Without doubt, since September 11, restrictions on the police
have been greatly loosened, and law enforcement authorities are
exercising vastly more autonomy than before, Wherever you draw the
line that defines a police state, America is closer to that point
than it was just a few short months ago.
Of course, the United States have been here before, in a worse
way. Whatever you may think of my warnings about expanded government
power during our rather vague "war on terrorism," at least I can
issue such warnings. My ramblings might've landed me in prison
during the Civil War or World War I, and would likely have gotten me
mysteriously fired and rendered unemployable during World War II
(when the authorities had grown more sophisticated about such
things).
The United States have certainly been through more authoritarian
times. We can be thankful that the reaction to September 11 has been
relatively mild. The reason that I and others like me can speak our
seditious minds now is that the restrictive powers assumed by
governments during past emergencies were repealed after the
emergency was over.
Mostly repealed, that is. Some extra powers were left over after
each incident. And the actions of the past have always been used to
justify the excesses of the present. President Bush's executive
decision, without congressional input, to try accused terrorists
before military
tribunals has been justified by references to the military trial
of German saboteurs during World War II. That the trial of the
saboteurs was legally and ethically shaky at the time is irrelevant
now; it provides a handy hook on which to hang new suspensions of
the usual rights to due process.
The risk in all of these "emergency" police powers and
extraordinary exercises of authority isn't that the Constitution
will be completely suspended or that troops will close the door of
Congress and turn the U.S. into a banana republic. The real risk is
that existing legal barriers between the population and the
government will be further eroded. The emergency powers of today
build on the precedents set during the last emergency and will be
used to justify actions taken during the next.
The police state that politicians are building isn't some
cartoony reproduction of Nazi Germany; it's an America of the future
that looks much like the United States of today, but works as if the
whole country has been turned into an airport security checkpoint.
It'll be like Mexico, with everybody averting their eyes as the cops
stroll by, but with better plumbing. It's a country that has a
familiar flag, regular elections and outraged civil liberties
columnists, but where it's easier than ever to get yourself arrested
for things that our parents wouldn't have considered crimes -- or
just for annoying the wrong people.
Yes, America is becoming a police state. But unless you pay
attention, you might not notice until it's too late.
