10 years later: The CIA ‘Torture Report’ and America’s accountability deficit
Today marks the 10th anniversary of the release of the heavily redacted 500-page executive summary of the U.S. Senate Intelligence Committee’s landmark report, following its investigation into the CIA’s post-9/11 detention and interrogation program.
Also known as the “Torture Report,” it is more than 6,000 pages long. Adam Driver starred in a film about it. But virtually no one has ever read it. It remains classified and shielded from public scrutiny and accountability.
It is one of the most significant acknowledgments the U.S. uses torture. Yet its lessons remain glaringly ignored.
The release of the summary in 2014 was a seismic moment, offering a harrowing glimpse into the systemic cruelty of a program justified under the guise of counterterrorism. It confirmed the extensive use of torture techniques — including waterboarding, mock executions and rectal feeding — on detainees.
It also highlighted the program's failures. Contrary to the CIA's claims, so-called “enhanced interrogation” techniques did not result in any actionable intelligence. Despite this, none of the individuals who engaged in, authorized, or covered up torture were prosecuted. No amends were made to victims.
The summary’s anniversary arrives at a significant moment. Tomorrow is the 40th anniversary of the United Nations Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment, which the U.S. ratified in 1994. The convention reaffirms the absolute prohibition of torture, under all circumstances, including during war. It also enshrines the rights of survivors to redress and rehabilitation.
At the time, President Barack Obama, who ended the use of enhanced interrogation techniques, said, "One of the strengths that makes America exceptional is our willingness to openly confront our past, face our imperfections, make changes and do better."
Yet, with respect to post-9/11 torture, the U.S. has persistently dodged its obligations. Survivors of U.S. torture, including those released without charge after years of detention, have faced barriers to the redress to which they are entitled.
Former detainees report lasting trauma from their treatment but often remain trapped in legal limbo, without access to adequate medical care. Some continue to languish in indefinite detention at Guantanamo Bay. For survivors, justice is an ever-receding horizon.
So far, the only semblance of justice for survivors has been through their own efforts.
Last month, in a historic verdict in Al Shimari, et al. v. CACI, a federal jury found a government contractor, CACI Premier Technology, Inc. liable for its role in the torture of three Iraqi men at Abu Ghraib prison, awarding $42 million in damages. This verdict came after more than 16 years of litigation and more than 20 dismissal attempts by the contractor. It was the first case of its kind to go to court.
However, in cases brought by survivors against the government, the government has invoked the state secrets privilege to protect national security information or else sought immunity. Additionally, the U.S. has failed to hold the architects of the torture program accountable. Former President George W. Bush, Vice President Dick Cheney and other officials have not faced legal consequences.
This accountability vacuum has global implications.
Torture thrives in the absence of accountability. By refusing to reckon with its actions, the U.S. undermines its credibility when condemning human rights abuses abroad and damages relationships with allies. China called the report proof of America’s "sheer hypocrisy." Iran labeled the U.S. a "symbol of tyranny." Russia cited it as evidence of "systemic human rights violations."
It also emboldens other nations to use similar justifications for torture and other abuses under the pretext of national security. Between 2006 and 2010, then-U.N. Special Rapporteur on Torture Manfred Nowak reported challenges in addressing countries' human rights records due to U.S. policies. He recounted a "clear statement" from Jordan’s parliamentary speaker that if the U.S. officially condoned torture, other nations felt justified in doing the same. His successors noted similar challenges.
Following the release, former special rapporteur on torture, Juan Mendez, and former U.N. special rapporteur on counterterrorism and human rights, Ben Emmerson called for prosecutions of U.S. officials.
There is a profound moral and strategic cost to this lack of accountability. In failing to confront the truth of its post-9/11 actions, the United States perpetuates a culture of impunity.
The most significant action taken following the summary was the bipartisan enactment of the 2015 McCain-Feinstein Amendment, which banned torture and any form of cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment during interrogations by U.S. agencies, and made the U.S. Army Field Manual on Interrogations the single standard for all U.S. government interrogations. But there hasn’t been any meaningful change beyond that.
The U.S. must take concrete steps to address its failure to reckon with the torture program. First, it must declassify the full Senate Report, giving survivors, their families, and the public the transparency they deserve. Second, it should provide redress and rehabilitation to survivors, as required under the Convention Against Torture. Third, it must commit to criminal accountability for those responsible for authorizing and implementing torture.
The moral high ground cannot be claimed without confronting the truth. A decade after the Torture Report’s revelations, the clock is still ticking. Will the United States rise to the challenge? Or will this anniversary pass as another missed opportunity to confront the past and protect the future?
The answer will shape not only America's legacy but any remaining commitment it has left to the rule of law and human rights.
Yumna Rizvi is a senior policy analyst at The Center for Victims of Torture.