A Critical Week in the Fight Against Torture

This week is going to be critical in the battle against U.S.-sponsored torture. We are continuing our daily vigil in front of the White House, one person standing silently in orange overalls and a black hood, while the other hands out leaflets and talks with the people walking through Lafayette Park.

In the past few weeks, we have become a fixture there with many people stopping to talk and express their concern, and others posing for photographs with us. Meanwhile, even as I write about our efforts, the McCain amendment against cruel and inhuman treatment is on its way to the House Senate Conference Committee, with Mr. Cheney fighting with all his might to have this language removed from the defense spending bill.

While we are in Lafayette Park, please keep all of your calls going to Congress. If you can, call every day this week and ask your friends to do the same.

Our experiences during the last few days have been heartening. As I stood there yesterday, in the overalls and hood, a large group of young people from the Dominican Republic came by to ask questions. They were in D.C. for a course on human rights at the Organization of American States and they were very happy with what we were doing.

After they left, a crowd of foreign journalists arrived. They had just been with Laura Bush to see the christmas tree and other holiday decorations at the White House. This year, the show is called “Pageant for Peace,” and the irony was not at all lost on them. Several journalists from Turkey and other areas interviewed and filmed us, leaving with a wink and a whispered “God Willing.”

After they left, a man rushed up to my side and shrieked, “I hope you get sent back to Iraq and I hope they put you in those overalls.” As I fumbled to take off the hood and look him in the eye, I asked him if he remembered what happened to my husband Everardo in Guatemala. He did not reply, but once I got the hood off, I could see that he was shaking from head to foot, not with rage but with unbearable pain. He was clearly on the verge of tears.

We stared at each other for a brief moment then he turned on his heel and ran from the square. What had caused such obvious trauma? Was he just back from Iraq himself? From his age and bearing, I suspect so. This left me with still another question: What on earth are we doing to our own sons and daughters?