Having
served in my time as an officer in both the Sri Lankan Army and
the Australian Army, I have always had sympathy for, and an
empathy with, the men and women who serve in the armed forces of
their countries.
So it was with relief that I read the news on
Thursday of the Iranian government releasing the 15 British
service personnel (seven Royal Marines and eight sailors,
including one female, from the British Navy frigate HMS
Cornwall) who were captured on March 23rd . These men and woman
were arrested by the Iranian coast guard after their boats
allegedly entered Iranian waters; they remained in captivity for
the past 12 days, while the British government sought the
support of its allies (from the Americans to the European Union)
to obtain their release. Meanwhile photographs and television
footage of the captured personnel were shown repeatedly by the
international media. These included TV Clips of the sailors
appearing comfortable in captivity, eating and smoking — and
also admitting their guilt, using large wall-maps to demonstrate
that they were in fact trespassing within Iran’s maritime
boundaries. The British Defence Secretary Des Browne meanwhile
condemned all this, claiming it was "completely unacceptable to
parade our people in this way".
Watching all this on TV, what struck me was what
a difference there was between the Iranians’ treatment of their
captured prisoners — and the treatment meted out to prisoners of
war by other so-called civilised nations. History has recorded
innumerable cases of the inhuman treatment that was inflicted
during the last century to captured enemy personnel — from the
Katyn Forest massacre by the Soviets of over 21,000 Polish
prisoners in 1940 to the more recent massacre by the LTTE of our
own Sri Lankan soldiers who surrendered at Mullaitivu on July
19th 1996.
While British newspapers last week persuaded
behavioural psychologists to examine television footage of the
captured personnel and conclude that the only woman in the
group, Leading Seaman Faye Turney, appeared ‘unhappy and
distressed’, L/S Turney herself wrote to her family that she was
being treated respectfully and comfortably. Even if she was
writing what she was told to write, there appeared no evidence
to the contrary if one judged from what one could see.
What a contrast, I thought, to the treatment
meted out to Iraqi prisoners by the Americans who went to Iraq,
in the words of George Bush, to "restore democracy" to that
ancient country. Unlike what the Americans did at Abu Ghraib and
other prisons in Iraq, there was no sign of the Iranians putting
hoods over the heads and masking tape over the mouths of their
prisoners. There was no evidence of electric shocks being
applied nor signs of beatings nor degrading photographs of naked
prisoners hung upside down or placed in humiliating positions.
Maybe the Iranians, whose civilization goes back
a few thousand years, don’t understand western values yet. Maybe
George Bush will find an excuse to invade that country so he can
send in his troops — including the 372nd Military Police Company
— to get rid of President Ahmadinejad and restore Florida-style
democracy to Iran. His soldiers could then deal with captured
prisoners and repeat some of the ‘sadistic, blatant and wanton
criminal abuses’ (I quote from the US Army’s own 2004 report by
Major General Antonio Taguba) that were perpetrated on Iraqi
prisoners in American custody.
For myself, if I ever had to choose between
becoming a prisoner of war of either the Iranians or the
Americans, I know to which soldiers I would surrender.
And it certainly would not be to those from the
Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.