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The brutal death of Baha Mousa The brutal death of Baha Mousa
(5 months later)
Baha Mousa was just a name at first. It appeared on a list of victims, people killed in Basra by British troops in 2003. There was little to distinguish him from the others. Except that he was the only one on the list who had been killed while being held for interrogation in a British base. That was enough to spark my interest. Here was a man, working in a hotel as a receptionist, arrested by British soldiers looking for insurgents, taken into custody for questioning and 36 hours later ending up dead.Baha Mousa was just a name at first. It appeared on a list of victims, people killed in Basra by British troops in 2003. There was little to distinguish him from the others. Except that he was the only one on the list who had been killed while being held for interrogation in a British base. That was enough to spark my interest. Here was a man, working in a hotel as a receptionist, arrested by British soldiers looking for insurgents, taken into custody for questioning and 36 hours later ending up dead.
There were all sorts of reasons why that may have happened. But legally it was "interesting" because, being held in the middle of an army camp, he was within British jurisdiction when he died. With that came the arguable contention that British law applied, law that included obligations under the Human Rights Act to investigate properly a death involving a state authority – in this case, the army.There were all sorts of reasons why that may have happened. But legally it was "interesting" because, being held in the middle of an army camp, he was within British jurisdiction when he died. With that came the arguable contention that British law applied, law that included obligations under the Human Rights Act to investigate properly a death involving a state authority – in this case, the army.
But then I saw the postmortem report and photographs of Baha Mousa. I can still feel the shock. They were visceral confirmation that this wasn't just an "interesting" legal case. A face distorted, almost unrecognisable, bloodied and swollen. A torso livid with huge swathes of bruising. Wrists with rings of cut flesh. A strangulation line across the throat. These were pictures of someone mauled over a protracted period of time.But then I saw the postmortem report and photographs of Baha Mousa. I can still feel the shock. They were visceral confirmation that this wasn't just an "interesting" legal case. A face distorted, almost unrecognisable, bloodied and swollen. A torso livid with huge swathes of bruising. Wrists with rings of cut flesh. A strangulation line across the throat. These were pictures of someone mauled over a protracted period of time.
Seeing those photographs made me intensely angry. I could understand how troops might lose control in a battle zone. But these injuries were inflicted on a civilian in the heart of a British military base, and, as I discovered later, only a few yards from accommodation quarters for officers and men. How could that have happened?Seeing those photographs made me intensely angry. I could understand how troops might lose control in a battle zone. But these injuries were inflicted on a civilian in the heart of a British military base, and, as I discovered later, only a few yards from accommodation quarters for officers and men. How could that have happened?
It was a question that drove me to spend years delving into a mountain of information. As Mousa's killing achieved notoriety (through the determination of Daoud Mousa, Baha's father, not to let his son's death go unnoticed, and Phil Shiner, the lawyer who brought the remarkable claim for judicial review in the high court), so the legal hearings came thick and fast, each producing more detail.It was a question that drove me to spend years delving into a mountain of information. As Mousa's killing achieved notoriety (through the determination of Daoud Mousa, Baha's father, not to let his son's death go unnoticed, and Phil Shiner, the lawyer who brought the remarkable claim for judicial review in the high court), so the legal hearings came thick and fast, each producing more detail.
First, there was a farcical court martial. Seven soldiers were prosecuted for the death, the ill-treatment of nine other prisoners held with Mousa, or neglect of duty. But those soldiers who came to give evidence suddenly could no longer remember what had happened; the judge advocate lamented the collective amnesia that had set in and had little choice but to dismiss most of the charges. Six defendants were acquitted. The seventh, Corporal Donald Payne, was convicted only because he pleaded guilty to inhuman treatment; he was sentenced to 12 months in prison. No one was held responsible for Mousa's killing or even for allowing the system of torture (for that was what it was: hooding, handcuffing, enforced stress positions, sleep deprivation, beatings) to become an institutionalised practice.First, there was a farcical court martial. Seven soldiers were prosecuted for the death, the ill-treatment of nine other prisoners held with Mousa, or neglect of duty. But those soldiers who came to give evidence suddenly could no longer remember what had happened; the judge advocate lamented the collective amnesia that had set in and had little choice but to dismiss most of the charges. Six defendants were acquitted. The seventh, Corporal Donald Payne, was convicted only because he pleaded guilty to inhuman treatment; he was sentenced to 12 months in prison. No one was held responsible for Mousa's killing or even for allowing the system of torture (for that was what it was: hooding, handcuffing, enforced stress positions, sleep deprivation, beatings) to become an institutionalised practice.
Then there was a high court review, which found that the investigation into Mousa's death was pathetically inadequate. And after much delay, finally there was a full public inquiry; essentially a careful re-examination that produced months of transcript and hundreds of witness statements.Then there was a high court review, which found that the investigation into Mousa's death was pathetically inadequate. And after much delay, finally there was a full public inquiry; essentially a careful re-examination that produced months of transcript and hundreds of witness statements.
Picking through all this documentation revealed a story of casual brutality and official indifference. And yet despite, or perhaps because of, the many legal hearings it was difficult to understand who Baha Mousa was, how he had been killed, who had been involved, how the investigation and court martial had failed, and most of all, why and how it could happen right under the noses of dozens of men and women, officers and other ranks, medic and padre included, without one of them intervening or protesting seriously until it was far too late.Picking through all this documentation revealed a story of casual brutality and official indifference. And yet despite, or perhaps because of, the many legal hearings it was difficult to understand who Baha Mousa was, how he had been killed, who had been involved, how the investigation and court martial had failed, and most of all, why and how it could happen right under the noses of dozens of men and women, officers and other ranks, medic and padre included, without one of them intervening or protesting seriously until it was far too late.
My book A Very British Killing, which has just been shortlisted for the Orwell Prize, is an attempt to make sense of all this. It became a forensic detective story of sorts. The details of the military police investigation and the legal hearings that followed needed to be laid out with precision. I hope that was achieved. But the shame is that ultimately it's a detective story without resolution. Despite all the available evidence, a damning report at the end of the Baha Mousa inquiry in 2011, and army generals queuing up to lament this "stain on the British army", still no one has been brought to justice.My book A Very British Killing, which has just been shortlisted for the Orwell Prize, is an attempt to make sense of all this. It became a forensic detective story of sorts. The details of the military police investigation and the legal hearings that followed needed to be laid out with precision. I hope that was achieved. But the shame is that ultimately it's a detective story without resolution. Despite all the available evidence, a damning report at the end of the Baha Mousa inquiry in 2011, and army generals queuing up to lament this "stain on the British army", still no one has been brought to justice.
Perhaps an even greater tragedy is that Baha Mousa wasn't an isolated victim. Since my book was published, more than 1,000 allegations of torture, unlawful killing, sexual assault and ritual humiliation have emerged. Shiner, the lawyer so instrumental in bringing the case of Baha Mousa to light, has led the claim that Britain has a duty to find out why and how these violations were allowed to happen.Perhaps an even greater tragedy is that Baha Mousa wasn't an isolated victim. Since my book was published, more than 1,000 allegations of torture, unlawful killing, sexual assault and ritual humiliation have emerged. Shiner, the lawyer so instrumental in bringing the case of Baha Mousa to light, has led the claim that Britain has a duty to find out why and how these violations were allowed to happen.
The Ministry of Defence set up an Iraq Historic Allegations Team to investigate. Millions of pounds in compensation have already been paid to more than 100 victims of abuse. But the MoD continues to say we should "wait and see" what its own investigators uncover before embarking on an expensive public inquiry. This is so even though it is obvious that Baha Mousa's treatment wasn't a one-off. It would be naive to suppose only a few "rotten apples" were responsible. Just as the Stephen Lawrence killing in 1993 exposed a culture of institutional racism in the police and caused it to question deeply embedded practices, the Baha Mousa case should have provoked a more profound soul-searching for the army. But this hasn't happened yet, though the pressure may mount if the court decides in the next few weeks whether there should be a deeper official inquiry.The Ministry of Defence set up an Iraq Historic Allegations Team to investigate. Millions of pounds in compensation have already been paid to more than 100 victims of abuse. But the MoD continues to say we should "wait and see" what its own investigators uncover before embarking on an expensive public inquiry. This is so even though it is obvious that Baha Mousa's treatment wasn't a one-off. It would be naive to suppose only a few "rotten apples" were responsible. Just as the Stephen Lawrence killing in 1993 exposed a culture of institutional racism in the police and caused it to question deeply embedded practices, the Baha Mousa case should have provoked a more profound soul-searching for the army. But this hasn't happened yet, though the pressure may mount if the court decides in the next few weeks whether there should be a deeper official inquiry.
I wonder what George Orwell would have thought about all this. He wrote once that: "It seems to me nonsense, in a period like our own, to think that one can avoid writing of such subjects." His main target then was the evil of totalitarianism. But I would like to think his underlying aim was to challenge indifference to the suffering of others. That for me was the real devil which emerged amid the detail of my book.I wonder what George Orwell would have thought about all this. He wrote once that: "It seems to me nonsense, in a period like our own, to think that one can avoid writing of such subjects." His main target then was the evil of totalitarianism. But I would like to think his underlying aim was to challenge indifference to the suffering of others. That for me was the real devil which emerged amid the detail of my book.
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