Press Conference and Ritual of Justice
May 27, 2008

Welcome and thank you all very much for being here. My name is Frida Berrigan and I am going to moderate the press conference. We are here to bring the names, stories and identities of the men at Guantanamo before the U.S. Superior Court, as we have brought the names, stories and identities before the U.S. Federal District Court and the U.S. Supreme Court. And we will continue to bring these names, stories and identities of the more than 20 men who remain imprisoned at Guantanamo before U.S. courts of Justice until we carve a straight and clear path for the men at Guantanamo to walk themselves. A path through war politics, through vengeful rhetoric and moribund ethics and almost insatiable violence.

Today we’ll hear from Matt Daloisio, one of the defendants, who will describe some of what will happen in court today. And then we’ll hear from Theresa Harris of the World Organization for Human Rights USA. Then we will hear from Demissie Abebe, the Executive Director of Torture Abolition and Survivors Support Coalition International—an organization founded and made up of survivors of torture from all over the world.

Finally, Susan Crane, one of the defendants wills speak, explaining why she and twelve of her co-defendants have made the principled decision to remain silent throughout the court proceedings to stand in solidarity with those at Guantanamo who have been scorned by Lady Justice.

Susan’s Statement:
In about an hour, 35 of us will be on trial for attempting to bring to public scrutiny the issues of:
• indefinite detention
• torture
• violations of Geneva conventions
• denial of habeas corpus
• insults to Islam.
We brought our grief to the Supreme Court on January 11 and we each had the name of a prisoner who we held in our hearts and whose name we gave as we were arrested.

The prisoner whose name I carried is Sami al-Hajj. Sami is a Sudanese man who was on assignment from Al Jazeera. He was arrested (captured) on the Pakistani border. I find it easy to identify with him--a parent, a worker, a journalist, trying to live life according to his faith.

Sami al-Hajj has an eight year old son, Mohammed, whose he hadn't seen for 6 years because he was held at Guantanamo.

What does one do imprisoned in such extreme conditions--under torture and being told you will never be released? Like many before him, and many with him, Sami began a hunger strike. It went on and on, for more than a year. All the while, he was daily strapped to a restraint chair and a feeding tube was forced though his nose--a tube that was covered with the bodily fluids from other prisoners who were being force fed, too.

After being held of over 6 years, after being on a hunger strike for over 18 months, Sami was released: his health was compromised; his immediate concern was for the prisoners he had left behind.

During the trial, some of us have decided to be silent: a gesture of solidarity with the Guantanamo prisoners who are not allowed to defend themselves in court or in hearings.

Sami was not allowed to see the evidence against him, and this lawyer, Clive Stafford Smith, was not allowed to attend his hearings.

We intend to wear orange jumpsuits, and sit silently in the court room. The trial itself, and sitting in silence will be a challenge, knowing that in the court, truth matters little. It will be hard to sit silently because we know that despite the rhetoric, we are seen as guilty because we were arrested, regardless of what we did or didn't do, just as the men of Guantanamo are sees as guilty regardless of what they did or didn't do.

Sami al-Hajj was released, but there will always be wounds from his detention and torture at Guantanamo. Years have been stolen from him and his family.

We yearn for all walls around our hearts, around our jails and our nation to come down. We yearn for the closure of Guantanamo and all prisons. Thank you.

Explanation of the ritual of justice: We have placed representations of habeas corpus, the Constitution and the Geneva Conventions. These documents form the foundation of our system of justice and the bedrock of our democracy. They are being severely fractured by Guantanamo, by torture, by rendition and the network of secret prisons.

Each defendant is wearing an orange jumpsuit and a black hood emblematic of the Guantanamo experience. By wearing the jumpsuit and carrying the name—the same name they bore to the Supreme Court and through more than 24 hours of confinement and processing through DCs jails and precincts—each defendant makes a commitment to project the humanity of this individual man and to work for justice on his behalf. So, they will come forward and place the Guantanamo prisoners’ names alongside the documents that should ensure that they have a day in court.

I call forward Father Bill Pickard of Scranton PA, who carries the name Faruq Ali Ahmed. Father Pickard says: "I went to the Supreme Court to bring the name and the humanity of Faruq Ali Ahmed - who claims he was in Afghanistan to teach the Koran to children and has no affiliation with the Taliban or Al Qaeda - before the law. He cannot do it himself, so I am called by my faith, my respect for the rule of law and my conscience to do it for him."

I call forward - Christine Gaunt of Grinnell, Iowa who carries the name Abdul Razzaq, who says:
“I went to the Supreme Court to bring the name and humanity of Abdul Razzaq- who died in Guantanamo in December 2007- before the law. I take his name to honor his right to justice before a proper court - a right he was denied at Guantanamo.”

And after these two, each defendant will come forward and place their prisoners’ name with the others.