Lawyers Fear for Marri's Sanity
U.S. Defends Conditions of Detainee's Solitary Confinement

By Josh White
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Ali Saleh Kahlah al-Marri is obsessed with the noise variations in an industrial fan, the buzzing of fluorescent lights overhead and the preparation of his dinners. He has stuffed his air vents with food to prevent what he believes are noxious fumes from streaming into his cell, and he worries at times that his lawyers are part of a government conspiracy against him.

The only person currently held as an "enemy combatant" on U.S. soil, Marri has been accused of being a sleeper agent for al-Qaeda, but he is not charged with any crime. After 6 1/2 years of confinement -- the past five in a U.S. Navy brig in Charleston, S.C. -- Marri's lawyers argue that his isolation has degraded his mental state and that years of being held incommunicado have left him unable to help in his own defense.

Marri's captivity in an often-forgotten part of the U.S. military detention system, outside the established legal process at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, raises the legal question of whether the United States can hold him without trial under those conditions until the end of the "war on terror," as the government has argued in court.

In court papers and interviews, Marri's lawyers vividly describe their client's struggle to improve his conditions and his fight against the insanity that psychologists say can follow long-term solitary confinement.

Though Marri's living situation has improved substantially, with the addition of a personal library and a computer, his family and lawyers wonder whether his psyche can hold up long enough for him to collaborate in legal measures meant to secure his release.

"Mr. Almarri has been confined in virtual isolation at the Brig for more than 1,700 days, suffering egregious abuses during much of that time," Marri's lawyers wrote in court papers filed recently in the U.S. District Court for the District of South Carolina. "His prolonged isolation and other unlawful conditions of confinement are irreparably harming his health and safety, endangering what remains of his psychological resilience, and jeopardizing his ability to participate meaningfully in his . . . defense."

The Pentagon says Marri has been moved into a unique form of detention with more privileges and concessions than almost anyone held in U.S. high-security prisons. Justice Department lawyers have argued in court papers that Marri's detention is "safe and humane" and provides "him with a number of accommodations and privileges rarely seen in military detention of enemy combatants."

Though held alone and without contact with other detainees -- all of whom are U.S. service members convicted of crimes -- Marri has a 1,000-square-foot dayroom with cable television and recently was given access to a computer. He also can read books from an approximately 400-volume library, including religious texts; has his own exercise equipment; and can read articles from USA Today and a local newspaper, except for news about the counterterrorism effort, along with magazines such as Men's Fitness and PC World.

"We have made a deliberate effort to be sensitive to the fact that he does not interact with other detainees," said Alan Liotta, principal director of the Pentagon's office of detainee affairs. "We knew that this was different, so we have tried to make sure that he has had opportunities along the way that may not be available to others detained as enemy combatants by the Department of Defense."

It is clear that the government thinks Marri is a dangerous man with ties to Osama bin Laden's terrorist network. He was arrested after the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks and accused of posing as a graduate student in Illinois while acting as a "sleeper agent" and preparing for follow-up attacks. He had returned to the United States on Sept. 10, 2001.

Initially charged with federal crimes, Marri was moved into military custody in 2003 after President Bush determined him to be an enemy combatant and an immediate threat to U.S. security. Of particular interest to U.S. authorities were Marri's alleged contacts with Mustafa Ahmed al-Hawsawi, who is accused of being a paymaster and travel facilitator for al-Qaeda and is scheduled for arraignment before a military commission at Guantanamo Bay this week.

Marri also had allegedly stored on his computer speeches by bin Laden and information on chemicals that could be used as weapons.

Marri's brother Jarallah is a detainee at Guantanamo Bay, though lawyers said he has been cleared for release pending discussions with the government of Qatar, where both Marris hold citizenship.

"If the United States believes Mr. al-Marri did something wrong, the real question is why the government hasn't tried him and proven it in a court of law," said Jonathan Hafetz, a lawyer who represents Marri. "The government's conduct speaks volumes about the weakness of its case and its position generally."

His lawyers also said Marri has never confessed to wrongdoing -- unlike Zacarias Moussaoui, another prominent terrorism detainee in the United States, whose admissions of guilt contributed to his 2006 conviction in civilian court for trying to harm Americans. He is now serving a life term in Colorado's ultra-spartan Supermax prison.

So far, the legal motions filed by Marri's attorneys appear to have played a role in improving his treatment. After being held incommunicado for more than a year in South Carolina, he was allowed legal representation and his interrogations ceased. Then, after he filed a lawsuit in 2005, he was permitted to move around his isolated cellblock, was given a mattress every day and was allowed to pray the way he wished.

In the meantime, Marri has been kept at a great distance from those in the outside world, meeting only with his lawyers, the International Committee of the Red Cross and brig staff. His fight for improvements in his conditions recently led to a single phone call with family members in Saudi Arabia, part of a Defense Department policy that now allows detainees at Guantanamo Bay to call home. Marri learned shortly before the call that his elderly father had died during his seven years in prison.

Twenty family members squeezed into a room in Riyadh, excitedly and sometimes tearfully passing around a telephone receiver last month, said his brother Mohammed al-Marri. On the other end of the line was a man who had become like a ghost, a faraway voice some said they had to strain to remember.

"It was a very emotional time," said Mohammed al-Marri, who spoke with his brother for the first time since 2001. "I was very glad to hear his voice after all these years, but on the other hand, it's just an unbelievable situation."

He said it has been hard to explain to his brother's children -- ages 7 to 15 -- where their father is and why he has not returned, in large part because he has not been charged with a crime. Ali al-Marri's wife and children left the United States for Saudi Arabia in 2002, after he was arrested.

"If the guy is guilty, prove he is guilty and we will accept that," Mohammed al-Marri said by telephone. "If he is not guilty, then why hold him all these years? . . . At least he should get justice."

Ali al-Marri's attorneys said their client was elated after the call and stopped harping on some of the minor inconveniences of prison life, instead focusing on his reconnection with his family. Andrew Savage, who also represents Marri, spoke with brig staff after the phone call and learned that Marri has been in "great spirits" since.

That result does not surprise experts familiar with long-term incarceration and isolation, who generally say that family contact gives inmates hope and vital interaction with people they know. Stuart Grassian, a psychiatrist who submitted his opinion to the U.S. District Court on Marri's behalf on March 6, said that being able to hear his family's voices inevitably gave Marri "a renewed sense of connection and purpose" and allowed him to focus his attention on "something very attractive and positive."

Still, Marri's lawyers say he suffers from disorientation, discomfort and sometimes pain. "There is clear evidence that his psychological resilience has eroded to a worrisome degree," wrote Grassian, who has not met Marri and relied on the accounts of Marri's lawyers. "He is becoming increasingly withdrawn, at times paranoid, as well as increasingly irritable and impulsive, and increasingly obsessional."

Savage wrote in court papers in March that Marri "has said that he wants to return to Qatar or Saudi Arabia, even if it meant being beaten or tortured, because at least the uncertainty and indefiniteness of his current situation would end. He says he tries to live day to day but cannot block the terrifying thought from his mind that he may spend years, even decades, alone."