A Report on the Easter Monday Arrest and Detention in Johnston County, NC

April 9, 2007

Civil Disobedience Action by NC Stop Torture Now:

Serving Aero Contractors, Inc. with Citizens Arrest Papers for

Their CIA-Sponsored Secret “Torture Taxi” Flights of Extraordinary Rendition

 

Barbara Zelter, NC Council of Churches

 

 

 

Background

 

This is at base about whether America should be a country that pretends not to torture people, while at the same time allowing a system, called “extraordinary rendition,” that exports torture to be done elsewhere, with our CIA directing and sometimes participating [some of the torture is even done at CIA-run sites by CIA personnel, we are told in Stephen Grey’s ‘Ghost Planes’].  We of NC Stop Torture Now want to lift the veil of secrecy and lies perpetrated by our government, in our names, with our tax dollars.  We want to sever the NC link in this secret, ineffective, cruel and immoral, and counter-productive process, in which innocents and others are tortured in the name of national security.

 

I personally come to this effort through my Judeo-Christian faith and the NC Council of Churches.  The mandate of Jesus to “love one another” seems not to allow for torturing one another.  The words of the Hebrew prophet Micah to “do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God,” seem to call us to name when injustice happens.  Most religious denominations and most faiths have official words against the use of torture.  And yet, our so-called “Christian” President and his minions allow it, as have many other American leaders before them.  And, this Aero Contractors situation is now in our own back yard. So we are called to act locally; faith demands noticing and action.

 

NC Stop Torture Now is a collaboration of people and groups in North Carolina who have been active since 2005 with the goal of ending the NC link in the “torture taxi” chain.  Specifically, this group has pushed in many ways to expose Aero Contractors, which operates out of the Smithfield, NC, airport and which has also been based at Global TransPark (state funded) in Kinston, NC.  A range of governmental and media sources have identified Aero as a CIA front organization that flies suspects in the so-called “war on terror” to be tortured in other countries.  Please see www.ncstoptorturenow.org.

 

In early 2007, Germany issued arrest warrants for three Aero pilots who flew an innocent citizen to Afghanistan for incommunicado, extra-legal detention [he doesn’t claim to have been tortured there].  Khaled El-Masri, a German of Lebanese descent, was snatched away while on vacation in Macedonia [he was vacationing alone, and had recently quarreled with his wife, a fact which ate at him while in incommunicado detention].  He was beaten, stripped, sodomized, blindfolded, hooded, and flown to an Afghan jail, and his family did not know where he was for five months.  At the end of that time, El-Masri was expeditiously dumped in Albania.  U.S. Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice weakly apologized as she admitted he was falsely accused.  The American Civil Liberties Union has represented El-Masri in two suits against our government for kidnapping and torture.  Two courts have bowed to U.S. government pressure and have not dealt with the merits of the case, citing state secrets that must be protected.  Our federal government refuses to act on the German arrest warrants, and is protecting their CIA pilots, who operate under aliases. 

 

Three of these Aero pilots live in Johnston County.  Their identities were made clear by Los Angeles Times investigation and verified by investigation of the NC-based Institute of Southern Studies.  So, with today’s action, NC Stop Torture Now has continued the collective exposé of extraordinary rendition and our state’s complicity.  Today’s witness follows our letters to Aero and Global TransPark leaders, to NC legislators, to the Governor, to the state SBI, and to the Attorney General, asking for a NC SBI inquiry into Aero’s documented criminal actions.  At this point, the investigation sits with the Charlotte office of the FBI.  Attorney General Roy Cooper sent our files about Aero to the FBI after 22 NC legislators asked him to have SBI look into Aero’s legal violations.  Mr. Cooper claimed the state did not have jurisdiction, but the FBI did.  We as citizens are watching our government default and punt on our national involvement with torture.  We persist in looking for ways to display and end this atrocity.  

 

The Civil Disobedience Action at Aero Contractors, Inc., Smithfield Airport, April 9, 2007

 

 

My pastor, Rev. Greg Moore of All Saints United Methodist Church in Raleigh, picked me up early this morning so we could converge with others at St. Ann’s Roman Catholic Church in Clayton, NC, about 45 minutes down I-40 east of here.  It was a cold morning the day after Easter, in the midst of an unusual North Carolina freeze.  About 40 of us got out of our cars in the parking lot of the church, gathered ourselves and our props, and set out in a convoy down the road to the Smithfield airport, where the CIA front organization Aero Contractors is lodged in a large blue metal building. 

 

Our goal was to serve the leadership of Aero with a citizens’ arrest warrant asking Aero to cooperate with the FBI investigation into their CIA extraordinary rendition flights and also with the German indictments of three of their pilots implicated in the rendition of an innocent man to be tortured overseas. 

 

Would they let us in past their gates to serve our citizens arrest papers?  Would we climb their barbed wire fence to get arrested for trespass if they did not let us in?  Would anyone pay attention? 

 

Our hope was that media would notice this concerted citizen action, even as the Aero leadership and the CIA would hide.  One more step in the uncovering of the United States’ torture machinery.  We had packets for the press with documentation of Aero’s complicity in torture.  We had bright orange (the color of the anti-torture movement) citizen indictment papers.  We had a group of several who were willing to be arrested, detained, jailed, and tried for this witness.  We had children and their parents, a local elder on her cane, photographers, life-time advocates for human rights, and two formal legal observers. 

 

Opening. The main gate on the private drive to Aero was open.  And so, we marched down the ¼-mile private drive to the Aero office site with a banner and signs.  In the early morning cold, some were able to drape many yards of oversized yellow tape saying CRIME SCENE  across Aero’s chain-link, barbed-wire-topped fence outside the building compound.  We were massed, ready to serve our papers, clear about our intent.  A few media looked on from back at the road.

 

Stopped.  An immaculately pressed professional from the Johnston County Sheriff’s Department, Captain Bengie Gaddis, walked up to the other side of the main Aero fence.  He politely informed us that we could not hang our Crime Scene tape from their fence.  We could assemble, but not violate their property.  We listened, and kept the Crime Scene tape on their fence.  There was no consequence.

 

Request.  We told Captain Gaddis that we had papers we would like to convey to Aero management.  He refused to convey, then said he would ask Aero management about it, and he went back to the building.  We waited, sat in, planned.  He returned within the half hour.  No, he said, the Aero management would not meet with us or accept our papers.  We could wait, but no one would respond.

 

Interim.  We decided to sit in a while and think through options.  Should we climb the fence?  No—one person might then be caught alone—and we were a group.  What’s next?

 

Opportunity—a nearby gate opens.  To the left of our gathering place by the main gate, a huge lawn-mower machine moved down a nearby drive toward another gate that led to the main property where the landscaper might cut the grass. 

 

Decision.  Several of us who knew we would risk arrest seized this quick minute and ran over and zoomed through the gate, sharp on the tail of the big mower machine.   In a matter of seconds, the big gate closed behind us, capturing some of us in, some of us out.  The outsiders yelled words of our intent at the 20 or so lawmen who suddenly appeared on the pavement, and who apparently had been ready and waiting for us behind the Aero edifice.  A few of the many officers who milled about in the warming sun placed us in plastic handcuffs that tightened like slip ties around garbage bags.  The complement of stocky men included several with leather jackets full of badges indicating their former U.S. military engagements—Kosovo, Bosnia, more.  Most chillingly, one had giant letters across the back of his patched black leather jacket saying POLIZEI.  That is in German, “police,” recalling Nazi order and language.  For those who know the history of this county, Klan-led and terrifying to generations of Blacks, it was a scary reminder of some local persistence of Aryan dominance and culture, here on display.

 

Separation.  Now we were two groups—the arrested and the witnesses.  Among the arrested were two young girls. Twelve-year-old Moira Rider O’Neill and 16-year-old Ellen Biesack had run in behind the mower in the flush of the moment.  I called to incomers:  Don’t come here if you don’t want to be arrested.  The girls smartly ran back behind the fence.  Still, when arrest time came, some law enforcement officers pulled them back into the zone, and arrested these youth because they had earlier been beyond the fence.  The legal implications around trespass in their cases must be explored.  Moira will need to deal with juvenile court.  Ellen, not meaning to be arrested, was valiant all day as she hung with the two of us women in our detaining cell, and as she got a May 10 court date with the rest of us.  Being 16, she was treated all day as a legal adult; still we could see how unfair this unplanned encounter with the law this was for her and her family. 

 

The holding cell.  The eight of us arrested were boarded onto a paddy wagon.  Stepping up high into this kind of bus is tough when you cannot use your hands for balance.  It was tight.  Walls between each van row were metal with small holes for ventilation and communication.  Women up front, men behind.   

 

Johnston County Jail.  After questioning for paperwork that would go to the magistrate for writing warrants, we were frisked, patted down, and divested of all contents of our pockets, jewelry, everything but clothes and eyeglasses.  Women were ushered into one holding pen, men in the other.  This basement area was old and the cell, with its thick plaster walls and heavy metal door, had  echoing acoustics that quickly made one’s head feel strange.  Lisa and Ellen and I sat alongside one another on the one wooden bench in the room, attached to the side wall.  This bench had large black charred areas, where a former detainee had set the room on fire.  The narrow glass window in the door was cracked from being pounded by detainees as well.  In this small room, there was a short half-wall at the end of the bench. On the other side of it was a metal toilet with no seat, and a metal sink with a button to flush, then two buttons for releasing the tiny trickle of water.  No soap, no paper towels, no privacy.  We had no information about next steps, and no contact with the men in our group.  Mid-day, men delivered Styrofoam boxes with lunch—mystery meat and gravy, instant mashed potatoes, good homemade collards, bad roll and cookies, sweet tea also in Styrofoam.  A plastic spoon with it, no fork or knife.

 

Magistrates.  One by one, we were asked out of our holding cells to go down the hall to go to the magistrate’s office, to hear what our charge was, what the cost was for us to get out of jail ($500 each in cash, or get a bail bondman to post that for you at a cash cost of 15%), and when we must appear in court to deal with our offense of Second Degree Misdemeanor Trespass (May 10 at 8:30).  Nonpayment of bail means sitting in jail there until May 10, unless you pay bail in-between, the magistrate said.  This was a surprise, as I had heard we might spend the night in jail and then get out the next day on our own recognizance.  So, I went into a spin of figuring if I wanted/needed to spend a month in jail, for witness to the cause—deliberation that I shared with several others in the group before finally accepting the release later on.  The magistrate gave each of us the two papers naming our charges, the bail cost, and court date, etc.  (Note, it later was revealed that Patrick O’Neill had an additional charge of “contributing to the delinquency of a minor” for bringing his children to this action.  He reframed the charge, with pride, as “contributing to the salvation of a minor.”)

 

Release of Ellen.  Somewhere early afternoon, longtime peace activists, the Biesacks, sprung out their 16-year-old daughter Ellen by providing bond.  All of us had made clear to the jail staff that getting Ellen out was a priority.

 

Men meet with the Johnston County District Attorney.   In our room, we heard a quick word from Patrick as he passed in the hallway after the men had gone upstairs to meet with the D.A.  This woman had last year made friends with the Aero 14 who were arrested for civil disobedience on this topic, and supports our cause.  She arranged for us to have a hearing this afternoon, regarding whether we wanted to have a public defender assigned. 

 

In District Court.  We were led in our heavy ankle shackles to sit in the jury box of one of the District Court rooms.  When it came our turn, the judge instructed us that the only purpose now was to ask us individually if we needed state-provided counsel.  Each of us but Patrick declined.  Patrick asked for the attorney who defended them pro bono last year, and who could help us again this time.  His request in court enabled the attorney to be paid by the state this time.   While responding, Steve Woolford asked the judge when we might ask to be released on our own recognizance.  The judge said we would deal with that.  Patrick also asked for that, as Stop torture Now defendents had proved to be trustworthy to return to court in the past—in fact, he, said, we had positive motivation to come to make our point.  (It was after this hearing when we would finally be allowed one phone call, to arrange for bond, and so it was important to know if we would have to arrange that.  The Captain in charge of the jail told us women earlier that we had to get money soon or we would be moved into the jail cells, as they had people who they needed to put in our holding room.)   The judge then asked the DA whether she had any recommendations on releasing us on our own recognizance; she had none—in effect, agreeing with the dropping of bail.  The judge proceeded to grant a blanket reprieve, with the warning that we were not to demonstrate again before the May 10 court date.  Patrick clarified that he must have meant, “with intent of breaking the law.”  The judge agreed with this clarification.

 

Late-Afternoon Release.  After more time in the holding rooms awaiting paper processing, the release began.  In the lineup outside our rooms, having ankle shackles removed and awaiting for our plastic baggies of “property,” the seven of us remaining after Ellen’s release had the opportunity to talk together about next steps.  I asked the Captain a lot of questions about rules and conditions in the jail, as I was still contemplating staying for the month.  I was surprised to hear that inmates in this jail cannot have any books or papers brought from home—only books sent directly from the publisher.  This is about eliminating transfer of contraband, she said.  This information tipped my decision, as being here would not afford opportunity to read my own books and write, and direct missed work from the cell.  Finally let go after our release documents arrived, we were let out the basement door and came up to the street, where some loyal NC STN friends awaited to provide rides.

 

Court representation and followup.  Patrick will arrange a time we can all consult with his court-appointed attorney to plan for May 10.  And Christina Cowger will organize our discussions of followup with Aero—mailing the arrest warrants we could not hand over, etc.  We ended one day’s witness.