by Ken Sehested
Unfortunately, it’s too easy to write off Tim Nolan’s decision to commit civil disobedience at the U.S. Supreme Court, calling for the closure of the Guantánamo prison for the suspects in the U.S. “war on terror,” as political looney-tune. But no less a public figure than former Secretary of State Colin Powell has stated:
"Guantánamo has become a major, major problem . . . in the way the world perceives America and if it were up to me I would close Guantánamo not tomorrow but this afternoon. . . . Essentially, we have shaken the belief the world had in America's justice system by keeping a place like Guantánamo open and creating things like the military commission. We don't need it and it is causing us far more damage than any good we get for it," Powell told NBC's Meet the Press in June 2007. [Reuters News]
Powell is neither a pacifist nor alone in his convictions. Recently, four previous U.S. Secretaries of State (three Republicans, two Democrats) joined Powell in calling for the prison’s closing [Atlanta Journal Constitution, 3.27.08], as are each of the major-party candidates (Clinton, McCain, and Obama). Even current Secretary of Defense Robert Gates tried early in his tenure to close the facility. [23 March 2007 CBS News report]
Nolan, a member of Circle of Mercy Congregation, a nurse practioner, spouse to Amy and father of three young children in Asheville, N.C., didn’t undertake the action lightly. He’s done this before, including last year’s “Witness Against Torture” action, that one on the 5th anniversary of the opening of Gitmo.
Over coffee this morning, he outlined the substantial case against the prison based on U.S. and international law. “The legal charade of this Administration’s justification is astounding. The invention of terms like ‘unlawful combatants,’ the suspension of habeas corpus, which is the foundation of our jurisprudence. And the systematic use of ‘enhanced interrogation techniques,’ formerly known simply as torture.”
But Nolan, whose medical work is focused on low-income people living with HIV/AIDS, does not base his conviction merely on legal or political grounds.
“Actually, this action is an outgrowth of prayer.” As it was for the majority of the 200 who paraded from the National Mall in Washington, D.C., to the steps of the Court—each in the distinctive orange jump-suit of Guantánamo prisoners and wearing the black hoods made famous from a similar prison, Abu Ghraib, in Baghdad. Most in the action are rooted in, or inspired by, the faith-based Catholic Worker Movement.
“I think of prayer as the portal to seeing the world in a new way, through God’s eyes,” Nolan commented. “Prayer isn’t an escape hatch from the agonies of history, but a means of confronting history in redemptive ways.”
The day—Friday, 11 January—began with a rally on the National Mall, co-sponsored Amnesty International and more than 100 other human rights organization. Shortly after noon some 400 persons embarked with legal permits and a police escort on the 45-minute silent walk, two abreast and in pouring rain, to the Supreme Court. After arriving the 200 in theatrical orange garb kneelt on the sidewalk in front of the Court. During discussions the previous day, 36 had volunteered to risk arrest by mounting the Court stairs toward the entrance.
As this unfolded, another 45 volunteers, who earlier passed through security at the Court (in plain dress) and assembled inside to read a statement and unfurl a banner. With no attempt to resist arrest, those on the steps were arrested and charged with violating an ordinance prohibiting demonstrations on court grounds. Those inside were charged under a provision that makes it a crime to give “a harangue or oration” in the Court.
“During the drive to D.C., during the strategy sessions the night before, all during the morning on the Mall, but most especially as we walked to the Court, I have to admit I was anxious, nervous, wondering if I was crazy,” Nolan said. “But all that melted away as we began climbing the steps. And as we were handcuffed, facing those massive courthouse pillars, I felt free and calm, with a sense that—in the face of this massive injustice [the existence of the Guantánamo prison and numerous other secret prisons of torture]—I was exactly where I wanted to be and needed to be.”
All were handcuffed and taken to a trailer at the side of the building for processing by Court police. Instead of offering their own names, each instead gave the name of a Guantánamo prisoner. Four hours later they were escorted into the Court basement and processed again, and pictured, then seated along a hallway. At midnight, in groups of four, they were transported by D.C. police to disperse precincts; and then moved again, at 3 a.m., to the Central prison.
By 9 a.m. the entire group was reassembled, hands still cuffed and now legs shackled, at the Superior Court holding cell in preparation for their arraignment. Again in groups of four they appeared before a judge, who provided two options. To accept or reject a “stint” (“to cease or desist”) order, pledging to not be arrested again for at least six months. Some chose to agree to this restriction. Others, like Nolan, who was finally released under bond at 5 p.m., refused and now face a maximum penalty of 60 days in jail, a fine, or both. A court date, probably in March, has yet to be established.
“The most significant thing that happened in this 29-hour incarceration was the fact that, in my appearance before the judge, I initially gave the name of ‘Fazaldad’ and have it officially recorded in a court document,” Nolan said.
Fazaldad (“no first name known,” according to Guantánamo records) is among the approximately 275 prisons still being held, some for over six years, in legal limbo and without recourse to legal action of any kind. Each of the “Witness” activists appearing before the judge that afternoon did the same thing, just for this purpose, before finally stating their real names.
“Just yesterday,” Nolan said as we wrapped up our conversation, “I heard an interview with one of the first lunch-counter sit-in participants” (in Greensboro, N.C., whose anniversary was just commemorated). He talked about the fear he felt, as a black man approaching the taboo of a segregated lunch counter, as he first entered Woolsworth with the intention of breaking the law. But then he said something like, “When I did finally sit down, I knew it was right. And I knew I’d stay there come what may. It might mean a long stay in a hostile prison. Or it might even mean I’d be shipped home in a pine box. But I knew this was right. I knew I was where I wanted to be, where I needed to be.”
“I immediately recognized that feeling,” Nolan said, smiling.
Earlier I told Nolan about the experience of others from our Circle of Mercy, on a visit to our “sister” church in Cuba, how his story was told at a special “service of prayers for peace” the very night of his arrest. As you might imagine, the narrative had quite an impact on the gathered Cuban Christians, against whom our country maintains an illegal embargo.
Such bonds, across borders and boundaries of every kind, are at the heart of our calling. And, sometimes, civil disobedience is a form of holy obedience.
©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. This article was originally published in Baptist Peacemaker, July-August 2008. For more information: Witness Against Torture witnesstorture.org

§ For creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God and will be set free from its bondage to decay. (Rom. 8:19, 21)
¶ Invocation. “ Love is / The funeral pyre / Where I have laid my living body. / All the false notions of myself / That once caused fear, pain, / Have turned to ash / As I neared God.” —Hãfez, 14th century Persian poet whose work is regarded as a pinnacle of Persian literature
The next day the abbot issued an even more unusual assignment to the novice. This time, he instructed the novice, go to the cemetery and utter the most profound praises to those buried in these same graves. The novice dutifully complied. But at the end of the day he reported back that not a single one among the dead had replied either to curses or praises.
¶ Lamentation confounded. Can you understand why those on the margin take little comfort when those in the mainstream pray for “peace”? “I’m praying for peace.” —North Charleston, South Carolina, Police Chief Eddie Driggers in a news conference following the shooting of Walter Scott, an unarmed black man by Michael Slager, a police officer. Slager fired his weapon eight times as Scott was running away. The scene was caught on cell phone
Before the Mayflower by Lerone Bennett, Jr.
¶ The recently agreed framework for continuing negotiations with Iran over its nuclear production program is among the most hopeful turn of events on the international scene in a very long time. This agreement is the latest step in the “Geneva Agreement” (or “Joint Plan of Action”) begun November 2013. These talks resume in June, when it is hoped that specific commitments will be made by Iran on scaling back its capacities and sanctions by the US (and others) will be loosened or abandoned.
¶ The agreement sent Iranian citizens into the streets to celebrate and Republican leaders (and some significant Democrats) into lock-and-load mode.
¶ What most US citizens don’t know about the history of US relations with Iran.
¶ “Leadership” = warmongering? “The world is starving for American leadership. But America has an anti-war president,” House Speaker John Boehner (R-OH) said during a Capitol Hill press conference last Thursday.
¶ Words of assurance. “Ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you.” —Hãfez
¶ Altar call. "We are not to simply bandage the wounds of victims beneath the wheels of injustice, we are to drive a spike into the wheel itself." —German pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonoeffer. Today is the 70th anniversary of his execution in a Nazi prison.
¶ Invocation. “Nothing can trouble, nothing can frighten. / Those who seek God shall never go wanting. / God alone fills us.” —Listen to the Taizé chant “
“We urge governors, prosecutors, judges and anyone entrusted with power to do all that they can to end a practice that diminishes our humanity and contributes to a culture of violence and retribution without restoration,” the group said in a statement released the week Christians around the world commemorate the suffering and execution of Jesus leading up to Easter.
¶ Traveling with an interfaith delegation to Iraq in 2000, to assess the impacts of US-led sanctions, I didn’t realize until it was too late that my passport had an Israeli visa stamp. At the time, Iraq didn’t allow any person with such into their country. By means of a chemical bath, I managed to erase the ink of my Israeli entry stamp but not the exit. An attempted disguise didn’t fool the Iraqi border guard, and I very nearly had to hitchhike the 500 miles back to Amman, Jordan. Luckily our driver, who had made this trip dozens of time, was quick on his feet—a small bribe secured my entry.
¶ It was Jewish political theorist Hannah Arendt who coined the phrase “the banality of evil” in her book, Eichmann in Jerusalem,” describing the composure, during his trial, of the Nazi SS (Schutzstaffel) leader Adolph Eichmann who managed the logistics of Hitler’s “Final Solution,” the genocidal plan to eliminate the Jewish people. What was most striking about Eichmann, says Arendt, was that he expressed neither guilt nor hatred; that he was neither beastly nor sadistic and was judged fully sane by a psychiatrist; that he endlessly insisted that he was only following orders; that what he did was fully legal; that he was only doing his job—all of which is true, which makes it all the more frightening.
Illustration (left) from the 14th century Kaufmann Haggadah.
¶ Yom HaShoah (aka “Holocaust Remembrance Day,” more formally “Holocaust Martyrs’ and Heroes’ Remembrance Day”) is observed one week after the end of Passover, this year beginning at sundown on Wednesday 15 April, the date linked to the anniversary of the 1943 Warsaw Ghetto uprising. Increasingly, the word Shoah (“calamity”) is preferred because holocaust has historical roots in the Hebrew word olah, meaning “completely burnt offering to God,” with the implication that Jews and other “undesirables” murdered by the Nazis during World War II were a sacrifice to God.
¶ Profession of faith. “I have looked our destruction, our miserable end, straight in the eye and accepted it into my life, and my love of life has not been diminished. I am not bitter or rebellious, or in any way discouraged. . . . My life has been extended by death, by accepting destruction as part of life and no longer wasting my energies on fear of death or refusal to acknowledge its inevitability. It sounds paradoxical: by excluding death from our life we cannot live a full life, and by admitting death into our life we enlarge and enrich it.” —Etty Hillesum, An Interrupted Life (A Dutch Jew, Hillesum died at age 29 in Auschwitz, the Nazi concentration camp, in 1943. Her story been referred to as the adult counterpart to that of Anne Frank.
¶ Good Friday? There are a host of explanations as to how “good” came to be attached to Holy Weeks’ “Friday.” (Germans use the word Karfreitag, “Sorrowful Friday,” which seems more straightforward.) Maybe the ironic modifier “good” simply lends itself to creative exploration. Maybe Good Friday represents the commitment we carry in the midst of the collision between sorrow and joy, despair and hope, imperial aspiration and the one Lordship that undermines all lording, Pax Romana and Pax Christi.
¶ Invocation. It’s not the Muslim, not the Jew, but it’s me, O Lord, standing in the need of prayer. —old spiritual, new verse
¶ The message from Eduardo came with the asunto [subject] line “First time ever!!!!” followed by several photos, taken at the Cuban Institute of Friendship with the People office in Ciego de Avila, where the St. Paul, Minnesota-based Global Volunteers delegation presented an American flag as a gesture of hope for reconciliation. Rev. Eduardo Gonzalez (at left, center, back row), pastor of Iglesia Bautista Enmanuel, served as the local host.
¶ Foot washing. Some years ago, in a visit to our partner congregation in Cuba, our hosts asked us to plan and lead their Wednesday worship service. We chose to focus on the Gospel of John’s “Lord’s Supper” account, where there is no ritual bread and wine observance, only Jesus washing the disciples’ feet. We asked Iglesia Getsemani leaders if we might do a foot washing ritual and found out they had been previously been discussing this. (Pictured at right are two of our members washing the feet of Rev. Angela Hernandez, Iglesia Getsemani’s pastor.)
“Christ Washing the Feet of the Apostles” by Meister des Hausbuches, 1475, Gemäldegalerie art museum, Berlin, Germany
¶ Regret is not repentance. Rather, “regret” is often a self-centered sentiment designed to draw attention away from the situation of harm and blind to the requirements of repair.
¶ There’s no getting over a certain foreboding in Holy Week liturgies (the “Triduum” of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday), including a dimly-lit Tenebrae (literally, “shadows”) service which typically ends in total darkness and silent recessional. We need a reminder that Jesus didn’t die of a heart attack; that he sweat blood trying to figure out an alternative to what by now seemed inevitable; that his closest friends deserted him. He was executed, in the most publicly shameful manner available, as the Roman Empire’s terror-inspiring warning against all insurgent aims.
¶ Don’t be surprised when you walk down the aisle of your local CVS to find that the company has decided to do its part in supporting our troops. For $3.99, you can buy a package of camouflage-colored Easter eggs, with matching green and white armed plastic soldiers—the “toy prizes” are just like the jellybeans of Easters past and, according to CVS, “Perfect for Easter egg hunts.” —Nancy Aykanian, “CVS Makes War on Easter,” Common Dreams
¶ Hershey’s wants a piece of Easter action, too, with a milk chocolate cross. (I didn’t see a fair trade dark chocolate option.)
¶ "To preach to the powerful without denouncing oppression is to promise Easter without Calvary, forgiveness without conversion, and healing without cleansing the wound." —"From What We Have Seen and Heard: A Pastoral Letter on Evangelization From the Black Bishops of the United States," 1984