Torture’s long shadow by Flo Schofield

Every year, the United Nations International Day in Support of Victims of Torture arrives with speeches, statements and carefully commitments to human rights; yet behind the declarations lies an uncomfortable reality: torture has not disappeared. It has merely evolved, been rebranded, outsourced, hidden and in some cases openly justified by governments that claim to stand for freedom, security and the rule of law.

The most famous symbol of this contradiction remains Guantanamo Bay. More than two decades after becoming synonymous with indefinite detention and abusive interrogation practices, it still stands as a monument to the idea that some people can be placed outside the protections that democratic societies claim to cherish. The arguments used to defend such places are always familiar. Extraordinary threats require extraordinary measures. National security comes first. Dangerous individuals do not deserve ordinary rights. These justifications are repeated so often that they begin to sound normal.

They should never sound normal. Waterboarding, stress positions, sleep deprivation, psychological humiliation, and countless other methods have been dressed up with bureaucratic language designed to avoid the word “torture.” Governments learned long ago that public outrage can be softened if brutality is hidden behind legal memos and technical definitions. A prisoner choking on water does not care whether the act has been renamed an “enhanced interrogation technique.” Pain remains pain. Fear remains fear. Human dignity remains violated.

Nor is this problem limited to one country. Around the world, allegations of torture and abuse continue to emerge from prisons, military facilities, intelligence operations, and police stations. Israel faces persistent accusations regarding the treatment of detainees. Pakistan has long struggled with allegations of abuse in custody. Russia has repeatedly been criticized for reports of torture and mistreatment within its detention system. The details vary, but the underlying logic is often the same: authorities insist that exceptional circumstances require exceptional actions.

History repeatedly demonstrates where that logic leads. Torture is not simply a crime against an individual. It is an attack on truth itself. Under extreme suffering, people will often say whatever they believe their captors want to hear. False confessions become evidence. Fabricated stories become intelligence. Entire policies can be built upon information extracted through terror rather than facts. Torture corrupts institutions as much as it damages victims.

Perhaps the greatest danger is how quickly societies become accustomed to it. What begins as a temporary emergency measure gradually becomes an accepted feature of governance. Secret prisons become routine. Legal loopholes become permanent. Public concern fades. Citizens are encouraged to believe that torture happens only to others, somewhere far away, in the shadows.

But the shadows never stay contained. A state that grants itself the power to torture ultimately weakens the moral foundation on which its authority rests. The question is not whether the victim is popular, innocent, guilty, foreign, or feared. The question is whether human rights are universal or merely convenient slogans repeated on commemorative days.

The United Nations International Day in Support of Victims of Torture should not be treated as an annual ritual of concern. It should be a reminder of a simple principle that remains surprisingly controversial in practice: torture is wrong, regardless of who commits it, who suffers it, or what excuse is offered in its defense.