Despite the careful crafting of treaties, declarations and resolutions that recognize and accommodate the responsibility of governments to act to ensure the security of their citizens and the obligation of governments to intervene to protect individuals from human rights abuses at the hands of others, governments around the world have consistently used arguments about security as an excuse for violating the full range of universally protected human rights. Throughout more than four decades of investigating human rights violations around the world, and long before the events of September 11, 2001 brought the issue to the forefront of global debate, Amnesty International has highlighted this concern in countries on every continent.


Faced with widespread armed opposition or sporadic violent protests; with sweeping peaceful opposition or limited underground dissent, governments have used “security” as an excuse for mass arrests of ethnic or religious minorities, for the torture of political opponents, and for launching military action that results in huge numbers of civilian deaths. Invariably the abuses have served only to create further resentment, grievance, opposition, violence and insecurity. In the end, neither human rights nor security have been advanced.


Today’s manifestations of putting security ahead of human rights vary widely. With North American and Western European governments this includes: Guantanamo Bay, extraordinary rendition, clandestine detention, torture and ill-treatment. And other governments now follow those examples. Amnesty has documented a pattern of rendition now in and among Somalia, Kenya and Ethiopia, where dozens now languish in incommunicado detention. In Egypt, a civilian court dismisses charges against individuals accused of membership in the Muslim Brotherhood so by presidential decree the government moves to try them in front of military courts instead.


But the repercussions go much further. Governments, everywhere, have become quite adept at using the language of security and counter-terrorism to repackage and disguise what are sometimes longstanding struggles or patterns of repression. The intensified crackdown against the Uighur people in China’s western Xinjiang district. The crude use of security rhetoric by Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe. The ravages of the so-called seguridad democratica, democratic security policies of the Uribe government in Colombia. The use of Malaysia’s Internal Security Act to go after internet bloggers who are critical of the government. In the prevailing global climate, call a new law “public order and security”, bestow a police agency with the title “anti-terrorism squad” and the likelihood of international concern, let alone opprobrium, diminishes considerably.


But whenever we give up on the notion of an unwavering, commitment to fundamental human rights – globally defined, globally applied and globally enjoyed – we cave in to terror, give up on justice and ultimately agree to a world divided, unequal and full of violence. We have to put basic universal human rights principles firmly into the centre of understanding what security truly means. It is from this perspective that I come to the heart of what I am touching on this afternoon: a consideration of Canada’s approach to security, and the degree to which human rights have prevailed, or not, in those initiatives. #p#分页标题#e#


As with any country this is of concern because we want to ensure that laws, policies and practices adopted in the name of security, do not cause or facilitate human rights violations. This is of vital importance in ensuring the protection of the basic rights of individuals, be they Canadian citizens or not, who may be impacted by these laws. It is also of real importance because human rights shortcomings or failings in one area can so easily begin to seep into other areas. An erosion of a commitment to human rights in the counter-terrorism area is certainly going to do no favour to ongoing struggles to bolster human rights protection more widely: be it the rights of Indigenous peoples, refugees, women, or racial minorities – all still serious human rights challenges in Canada.


But while this is about Canada, it is crucially important to remember that this is not just about Canada. There is global resonance to what Canada does well, and what Canada does poorly. Canada must set a model for other nations to follow. Canada is frequently recognized and often lauded on the world stage for its commitment to the protection of fundamental human rights, at home and abroad. We were there at the outset, helping to draft the UDHR. We’ve made important contributions in areas like peacekeeping, international justice, banning landmines, protecting child soldiers, and more. Our international record is not without blemishes. But it is undeniably commendable. It is all the more critical therefore to ensure that Canada’s laws and practices demonstrate clearly that security can and must be pursued in a manner wholly consistent with international human rights obligations.


There are seven areas of Canadian law and practice in the area of security and counter-terrorism that I am going to review through a human rights lens. First, the possibility of what I’m going to call a Canadian rendition program. Second, complicity in international renditions. Third, silence about Guantanamo Bay. Fourth, deporting individuals to torture. Fifth, complicity in torture in Afghanistan. Sixth, unfair immigration security laws. And seventh, a quick word about secrecy.


Let me begin with the concern that lies behind the words I opened with – Abdullah Almalki’s experience of torture in Syria. The issue: has there been a Canadian edition of extraordinary rendition? Four brief stories.


On September 26, 2002 Canadian citizen Maher Arar was pulled aside by an immigration officer while transiting through JFK Airport in New York City. Over the coming 12 months he was imprisoned in the United States, then briefly in Jordan and finally in Syria, the land of his birth: lost in a nightmare of lawlessness, torture and abuse. Never told of the specific allegations against him, he endured extensive interrogations in the United States and Syria, none of which were carried out in the presence of legal counsel. Never given a chance to confront his accusers, or refute the allegations, he was severely tortured in Syria and held in abysmal prison conditions without access to natural or artificial light for months on end. To bring the agonizing torture and mistreatment to an end, he confessed to anything that his Syrian captors demanded of him. #p#分页标题#e#


On November 12, 2001 Canadian Ahmad El Maati was arrested upon arrival at the airport in Damascus, Syria, country of his mother’s citizenship and to where he was traveling to join his new wife. He was held in incommunicado detention, his arrest never acknowledged by Syrian authorities, his whereabouts never disclosed to his family. He was subjected to brutal torture and extensive interrogation in Syria until January 25, 2002 at which point in time he was secretly transferred to Egypt, land of his father’s citizenship. He remained in detention in Egypt, where the torture continued, in fact intensified. His Egyptian jailors refused to release him, despite a number of court orders requiring his release, until he was finally freed on January 11, 2004.


On May 3, 2002 Canadian Abdullah Almalki was arrested upon arrival at the airport in Damascus, Syria. Having heard that his grandmother was ill, he was returning to Syria for the first time since his family had emigrated to Canada 15 years earlier. He remained in prison until March 10, 2004. He was tortured extensively. He was interrogated relentlessly. He was never allowed legal representation or consular assistance.


On December 11, 2003 Muayyed Nureddin, a Canadian citizen of Iraqi descent, was arrested when he sought to cross the border between Iraq and Syria, en route back to Canada after a visit with his family in northern Iraq. He was imprisoned until January 13, 2004, given no consular or legal assistance, and like the others before him was interrogated and subjected to torture.


Throughout their time in detention and then increasingly following their return to Canada, all of these men have been haunted by the very disturbing likelihood that Canadian officials – directly or indirectly, actively or passively, officially or unofficially – had a hand in what had happened to them.


The human rights concerns that arise in all of these cases are serious and wide-ranging, including the rights to be protected from torture, not to be arbitrarily arrested and detained, to have a fair trial, to be free from discrimination and not be treated unequally due to religion, ethnicity or national origin, to be held in humane prison conditions, to have consular access, and to have privacy. And having suffered serious human rights violations these men have understandably looked for justice, for there to be a remedy for what they have been through. But justice has not been easy to find. The prospect of turning to the courts of Jordan, Syria or Egypt for accountability and redress is illusory. The Canadian government takes the position that they cannot use the Canadian courts to sue those foreign governments because Canada’s State Immunity Act shields other governments from civil suits (even for harm as egregious and universally criminal as torture). And it certainly hasn’t been straightforward pursuing accountability for the role played by Canadian or US officials either. #p#分页标题#e#


There has been some progress. For Maher Arar it has been substantial. A 2 ? year public inquiry into the role of Canadian officials in his case wrapped up at the end of 2006. It was a lengthy and often excruciating process for Mr. Arar. But it resulted in a powerful report. Condemnation of a wide range of Canadian police, security and diplomatic practices and actions. Vindication and exoneration for Mr. Arar. An official government apology and compensation. But, as is so unfortunately often the case with good reports from public inquiries, more than a year later the bulk of the recommendations remain unimplemented.


And there is Mr. Arar’s ongoing struggle for answers and accountability south of the border, in the United States. An apology and $10 million compensation in Canada, but the US government at present refuses to even remove Mr. Arar from its no-fly list. US government lawyers have successfully argued that he should not be allowed to bring a civil suit in US courts against government officials because of the state secrets involved in the case. The appeal of that decision was heard back in early November and a decision is pending.


And last fall, at a joint hearing of two Sub-Committees, of the House of Representatives’ Foreign Affairs and Judiciary Committees, Congressman after Congressman apologized to Mr. Arar, who was testifying by video link from Canada. That was followed by an admission from Secretary of State Rice, appearing a few days later before the House Foreign Affairs Committee that Mr. Arar’s case had not been properly handled, at least as far as the sort of contact and communication there should have been with the Canadian government. She conceded that the handling of the case had been “far from perfect”. Congressional apologies. Administration acknowledgement of shortcomings. Does this mark the beginning of an opening – for Mr. Arar; or more widely with respect to the U.S. practice of extraordinary rendition? Only time and politics will tell.


But all of that is just Mr. Arar, one of the four men. The report from the public inquiry into the Arar affair gave us a glimpse of what went so terribly wrong in one case. But what if it isn’t just about one case. What if what went wrong wasn’t an aberration but rather, part of a pattern, common practice or policy? That is why it is so crucial to understand the 3 other cases.