‘Detainees Are Always One’s Achilles Heel’: The Struggle over the Scrutiny of Detention and Interrogation in Aden,1963–1967

I. Introduction

Soldiers and security force personnel often find counter-insurgency campaigns deeply frustrating. The complaint that civilians in various guises force them to fight with one hand tied behind their back is a commonplace. Yet within the armed forces there can simultaneously exist an appreciation that acting with restraint confers moral, legal, and strategic advantages. Since at least 1945 this internal debate about how to fight a rebellious populace has been complicated by the objectives of international organizations. Today many professional armed forces are anxiously grappling with the consequences of international humanitarian law and human rights law colliding, and feeling themselves to be under legal siege. ¹ The impression of constraints does not always reflect the reality.

The British experience in Aden from 1963 to 1967 is a significant case study for examining the interaction between security forces fighting an internal armed conflict and international organizations attempting to monitor them and enforce compliance with international law. The Aden case demonstrates how increased monitoring can lead a state to develop more sophisticated methods for evading detection and keeping abusive practices in place. It also shows how those charged with implementing security policy on the ground can successfully demand the state protect them from punishment for obtaining intelligence by violent means. In examining these issues, this article moves thinking about British counter-insurgency beyond the recent debate about repression. ² Old sentimental notions about Britain’s singularly humane and effective approach to counter-insurgency are no longer accepted as credible. Detailed archival work is appearing on the post-war conflicts, which carefully explains the evolution of military strategy over time, and the dynamics between coercive and conciliatory tactics. ³ The literature must now explain how external constraints upon the armed forces shaped the tenor of military conduct. More attention should be paid to how international organizations, lawyers, the media, lobbying groups, and churches intervened in decision-making about the use of force. This article uses the Aden case to show that outside intervention could be adroitly side-stepped.

In 1961 the value of Aden, part of the empire since 1839, lay in its status as the world’s busiest oil bunkering port and home to the major Middle Eastern military base. ⁴ To consolidate Britain’s grip, Harold Macmillan’s administration imposed a standard decolonization device, a federation. By June 1964 the surrounding Western and Eastern Aden protectorates, and finally Aden Colony, were formed into the Federation of South Arabia, comprising 17 states. ⁵ London agreed to grant the federation independence by 1968, with enduring access to the base. Traditional rulers in the rural states were expected to restrain growing political aspirations in urban Aden. Industrial disputes in the 1950s had turned violent as political representation and improvements in working conditions failed to materialize. ⁶

Under the 1963 Treaty of Friendship and Protection, the federation was required to ‘accept and implement in all respects any advice given by the United Kingdom in any matter connected with the good government of the Federation’. This provision for enforcing mandatory advice guaranteed British primacy. ⁷ Direct rule was imposed by the High Commissioner in Aden in September 1965. ⁸ British officials in South Arabia faced rising Arab nationalism, and feared Egypt’s destabilizing influence on the federation. The overthrow of the Imam in neighbouring Yemen by republicans supported by Gamal Nasser in September 1962 confirmed these fears. Nasser’s hand was detected in the foundation of the People’s Socialist Party in Aden in June 1962 and the National Liberation Front (NLF), based in Yemen, in July 1963. ⁹ From then on British authority came under repeated attack from the NLF (strongest in the countryside) and later also from the rival Front for the Liberation of Occupied South Yemen (FLOSY), based in Aden. ¹⁰

Allegations of torture during the interrogation of suspected insurgents attracted press coverage at the time. ¹¹ Most scholarly accounts mention the investigations by Amnesty International and Roderic Bowen, a former MP sent to Aden by the Foreign Secretary in November 1966. Authors are divided on whether abuses ever happened, what impact they had, how they were investigated, and whether they were stopped. Samantha Newbery describes the first interrogations carried out by military experts in January 1964, noting the investigations by Amnesty and Bowen were followed by inquiries by the army and the High Commission. ¹² Kirsten Sellars and Ian Cobain depict these investigations as whitewashes. ¹³ Spencer Mawby puts ‘crude interrogation techniques’ down to a lack of trained intelligence officers. Mawby disparages the Amnesty investigation and commends the more rigorous (and damning) inquiry by Bowen. ¹⁴ Though accepting torture happened during intelligence gathering, Calder Walton attributes it to ‘some’ officers in the Aden Special Branch, who took ‘matters into their own hands’. ¹⁵ Brian Simpson states two International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) inspections were made in 1966, whereas Fred Halliday claims visits to detainees by the Red Cross were refused in 1965 and 1966. ¹⁶ On Amnesty’s role, Tom Buchanan documents its investigations in Aden and the hostile government reaction to the accusation of torture. ¹⁷ Others take a sceptical line. Jonathan Walker argues false allegations against the interrogators were concocted by NLF propagandists. ¹⁸ David French documents two cases where detainees lied, as propaganda or to excuse their having willingly given information. ¹⁹ Thomas Mockaitis asserts Bowen and a Red Cross investigation ‘found no evidence of physical abuse’. ²⁰

Abuses during interrogation certainly happened; the disagreement has always been about how severe the physical violence was, how widespread, and whether it was justified by the circumstances. Officials who served in Aden discussed abuses later on. David Ledger, Assistant Adviser (special duties) at the High Commission from 1964 to 1967, recalled ‘some people were roughly handled’. ²¹ An anonymous political officer stated: ‘We had torture in Aden. There was no doubt about it.’ ²² Michael Crouch, an official in Aden from 1958 until 1967, witnessed two soldiers beating a detainee during an interrogation session. ²³ The evidence presented here derives from memoirs, oral histories, records created by the High Commission in Aden, and papers written in the Cabinet Office, Colonial Office, Foreign Office, Ministry of Defence, and Prime Minister’s Office, and at the Army Staff College. These sources, including translated reports by the ICRC delegate to Aden, André Rochat, ²⁴ demonstrate beyond doubt that interrogation involved physical violence. Precision in attributing responsibility is impaired by the evidence base. Access to the essential military papers, created by Middle East Command and Middle East Land Forces, is required to comprehensively assess military participation in detention and interrogation. These records are retained by the Ministry of Defence.

This article focuses on the relationships between the authorities in Aden and outsiders pressing to know what was happening and eager to impose humanitarian reforms. These outsiders included the press, parliamentarians, the United Nations, Amnesty International, and the ICRC. The article concentrates on Amnesty and the ICRC because these were the most persistent and influential groups. Unlike previous studies, the article examines the relationship between detention and interrogation, and their scrutiny. It shows how the authorities gradually acceded to inspections and reforms pertaining to detention facilities, in order to placate critics and retain the ability to conduct interrogations. To explain government policy, the article draws upon the argument developed by Pascal Vennesson and Nikolas Rajkovic concerning the relations between governments and transnational actors over accountability for wartime conduct. Transnational actors, such as human rights groups, have enjoyed less success in reducing state power than is sometimes claimed. Instead, states have discovered how to resist the attempts to publicly name their misdemeanours, shame them for these actions, and force them to comply with transnational norms. States can engage in a strategic interaction, pushing back at the accusations against them and fighting in ‘a struggle for moral and legal authority.’ ²⁵ In Aden the British government decided to contest the allegations made against it, and appreciated that giving way to the ICRC would be a valuable tactic for undermining Amnesty International’s credibility and fending off public investigations into interrogation methods.

Disputes arose within official circles about how to respond to external critics. The literature suggests a clear divergence on party lines. Under Harold Macmillan’s Conservative administration, key ‘Aden Group’ figures such as Julian Amery and Duncan Sandys were determined to protect British interests in South Arabia. ²⁶ When Labour came to power in October 1964 they had opposed the Tories’ formation of the federation and hoped to work cooperatively with nationalist leaders such as Abdullah al Asnag. ²⁷ However, both Colonial Secretary Duncan Sandys and his Labour successor, Anthony Greenwood, supported inspections by the ICRC. Conservative and Labour governments acted to protect interrogation. Two camps formed in relation to external scrutiny – those in favour and those opposed. Some stayed firmly in one camp: examples included the colonial secretaries, the Foreign Office, and the legal adviser in Aden in favour, and the military interrogators, the deputy high commissioner, and High Commissioner Sir Kennedy Trevaskis against. Others were pragmatic. High Commissioner Sir Richard Turnbull and his counsellor Don McCarthy warmed up to the ICRC over time.

The argument is developed in four sections, the first of which maintains the Aden experience must be understood within the wider context of British practice in quelling rebellions after 1945. The interrogation methods applied in Aden had been seen before in the empire. But the security forces in Aden detained without trial far fewer people than in other campaigns, notably Kenya. The security forces relied upon interrogation for intelligence about the insurgency in Aden more than in any other campaign, with the possible exception of the Cyprus emergency. This section briefly sketches the legal and policy frameworks under which detention and interrogation took place, and sets out the process by which individuals came to be detained. The remainder of the article examines the evolving struggle over external investigation into detention and interrogation. The next section argues that the battle lines were drawn as soon as the emergency was declared in December 1963. The High Commissioner and military intelligence concluded interrogation produced valuable results, and needed protecting. Parliamentarians, the press, Amnesty, and the ICRC clamoured for access. Both camps had their moments; a sympathetic inquiry by the Chief Justice for Aden kept outsiders at bay for a time. Eventually the ICRC found a way to intervene. The following section encounters the High Commission on the back foot. In November 1965 the Colonial Secretary forced Aden to accept an ICRC delegation. Here the article argues the ICRC delegate achieved a remarkable degree of access to detention facilities, and established a reputation for reaching balanced and reasoned judgements. Though Amnesty International failed to gain the same access, its controversial public shaming methods persuaded the British government to send out its own investigator. The final section of the argument contends that the resulting inquiry, by Sir Roderic Bowen, confirmed the ICRC’s conclusion that abuses were continuing during interrogations. Bowen pushed through procedural reforms, but abuses were not halted, and impunity awaited those involved.

II. Interpreting Detention and Interrogation in Aden

Detention and interrogation must be set within the contexts of broader security policy in Aden, and post-war British counter-insurgency. The interrogation techniques applied in South Arabia drew on practice in Kenya, Malaya, Cyprus, the British Cameroons, Guiana, and Swaziland. ²⁸ The ‘five techniques’ (sleep deprivation, white noise, a bread and water diet, stress positions, and hooding) appeared again in Northern Ireland in 1971. The European Court of Human Rights ruled in 1978 that these techniques did not involve torture, but were illegal as they constituted inhuman and degrading treatment. ²⁹ No court issued a judgement on whether the methods used in Aden were torture, so the precise legal status of British practice is open to dispute.

While the interrogation techniques deployed in Aden were seen in many conflicts after the Second World War, the particular circumstances of each campaign meant there were differences in application. During the Kenya emergency, for example, interrogation was initially used on a mass scale to screen thousands of suspects during the course of cordon and search operations. The violence that accompanied screening could often be indiscriminate and brutal. However, from 1956 the government authorized ‘the introduction of a system of abuse within the detention camps … torture became structural, and part of a system of violence deliberately and purposefully implemented against Mau Mau suspects’. ³⁰ In Aden, interrogation took place in three forms. Firstly, the police questioned suspects in order to secure criminal convictions. Secondly, the army and other security forces stopped and questioned people in the street for immediate tactical intelligence. Very little is known about these two forms of interrogation because the evidence base is limited, but it seems that mass arrest operations as conducted in Kenya were rare. Thirdly, expert interrogators questioned terrorist suspects in depth for protracted periods. This form of interrogation is examined in this article.

Intelligence is always essential in a counter-insurgency campaign because the security forces must be able to identify the enemy. Interrogation rose in significance as alternative intelligence sources diminished. Signals intelligence and telephone tapping produced little valuable information. ³¹ Prisoners were seldom taken in the mountainous countryside, where combat often happened at a distance. ³² Some battalions created undercover formations, though little is known about their import. ³³ Political officers from the administration provided local knowledge, and businessmen and journalists were tapped as sources. Surveillance operations were often launched. ³⁴ But these measures, and reforms instituted by the Joint Intelligence Committee, failed to have any impact on the collapsing security environment. ³⁵ Already weak, the intelligence apparatus became even more reliant upon interrogation from December 1964, when the NLF began assassinating intelligence officers. ³⁶ By June 1965 all the Arab officers in the Aden Special Branch were dead or had resigned in fear. ³⁷ In the final years, then, interrogation became almost the only intelligence source for the British on the violence they were facing. Torture is rationalized in counter-insurgency campaigns by an ‘appeal to the urgent need for intelligence and the severity of the threat posed by the enemy’. ³⁸ Thus the authorities fought hard to retain interrogation as a central military tactic and to protect expert interrogators from outside interference.

Where interrogation’s central role explains why the British government blocked reform, detention’s relatively minor place in counter-insurgency strategy explains why the government was willing to compromise on how detainees were treated. Comparing detention across counter-insurgency campaigns, David French notes that 158 people were detained in Aden. ³⁹ This was one of the lowest proportions of the ‘target’ population, with detention used less only in British Guiana and Nyasaland. However, the figure misrepresents detention in Aden for two reasons. Firstly, it rests on correspondence from January 1965, though detention continued until November 1967. Secondly, the figure is a snapshot of those in detention at a moment in time, rather than an aggregate figure. The numbers varied each month. In January 1964, 46 people were detained. ⁴⁰ By June 1965, 43 detainees were being held in Aden and the federal states. ⁴¹ In 1967 the numbers fluctuated from 109 at the end of January to 196 at the end of July. ⁴² The numbers arrested in a week could range from a single person, to 30 NLF members, to over 450 during a riot in early October 1965. ⁴³ But the overall validity of French’s point stands. Prisoner numbers were in the hundreds rather than the thousands, indicating a relatively minor role for detention in Aden. ⁴⁴ This partly explains why the authorities accepted external intervention in detention and reformed their policies. Responding positively made little difference to security operations, yet brought reputational benefits.

This article concentrates upon interrogation and detention in the Aden emergency, but it is worth briefly remarking upon how these specific measures related to counter-insurgency as a whole. Recent research on British counter-insurgency since 1945 has stressed the reliance on a coercive approach. In this sense, Aden was typical. ⁴⁵ Operations in 1964 in the rural Radfan region set the tone, as crops were destroyed, livestock slaughtered, and villages bombed for hosting NLF fighters. ⁴⁶ Casualties among women and children were officially regarded as inevitable and acceptable. ⁴⁷ In Aden, people complained of being beaten, shot, robbed, harassed, and abused. Prisoners tended to be shot ‘attempting to escape’. ⁴⁸ The reoccupation of the Crater district in July 1967 by the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders under Colin Mitchell is particularly notorious. ⁴⁹ Mitchell’s political adviser recalled the Argylls ‘behaved extremely badly; they looted, stole, murdered, almost beyond control’. ⁵⁰ Excesses were not confined to the Argylls. Paratrooper Joe Starling remembered his battalion’s ‘vigorous interrogation methods’, and letting prisoners ‘accidentally’ fall down stairs. ⁵¹ So a harsh approach to detention and interrogation was in keeping with behaviour elsewhere in the military campaign.

Detention and interrogation were regulated by law, military doctrine, and administrative procedure. These frameworks appeared to impose constraints on how detainees were treated, yet gave the authorities ample leeway to detain and interrogate whomever they chose for lengthy periods. The Internal Security (Delegation of Powers) Law 1963 gave state rulers and the High Commissioner extensive powers, subject to the control of the Federal Minister of Internal Security. ⁵² Under the 1963 Public Emergency Decree, and then the 1965 Emergency Regulations, detention was permitted for 7 days without a warrant, and a further 21 days on a holding order. After this, confinement could be extended indefinitely, and without trial, under a detention order. ⁵³ Before arrest, detailed files were prepared by Special Branch, such as that on Hussain al Jabiri. A 23-year-old teacher, Jabiri attracted police attention for rioting in June 1963. This activity, and membership of the People’s Socialist Party (PSP), resulted in a fine and redundancy. An informer later named him as an NLF member, prompting his arrest. Special Branch recommended detention as his ‘membership of the N.L.F. is satisfactorily established’. ⁵⁴ There were prisons in Crater in Aden, and outside the city, such as in Mukalla in Quaiti state. ⁵⁵ From April 1967 the Military Corrective Training Centre at Steamer Point accommodated another 72 prisoners. The Attorney General preferred detention to prosecution, as Arab juries were expected to be biased or subject to intimidation. ⁵⁶ A Review Tribunal, sitting in camera and without representation for the suspect, examined whether to extend detention after six months. ⁵⁷ It was chaired by the Chief Magistrate of Aden, Enoch Light, a former coal miner whom Hugh Hickling, the High Commissioner’s Legal Adviser from May 1964, commended as ‘Strong-willed, forthright, sympathetic to the underdog.’ The other members were the lawyer S.N. Iyer QC and Ahmud Muhammad al Asnag, uncle to Aden Trades Union Congress (ATUC) and PSP leader Abdullah al Asnag. ⁵⁸ The head of Special Branch proved influential in determining detainees’ fate. ⁵⁹ At times people were released subject to ‘restricted residence’; typical conditions included remaining in Aden, living at a certain address, abiding by a curfew, and reporting weekly to a police station. ⁶⁰

Those selected for detailed questioning went to the interrogation centre at Fort Morbut, which held 18 people. Following interrogation, detainees were held in a communal block in Crater gaol. In October 1965 a new detention centre opened in Al Mansura, which became the main destination for prisoners who had gone through the interrogation process. ⁶¹ From February 1965 the military worked within the ‘Joint Directive on Military Interrogation in Internal Security Operations Overseas’. The document was produced by the Joint Intelligence Committee in Whitehall at the request of the Director of Military Intelligence, who wanted codified guidance on when and how military interrogations should happen, following three ad hoc operations (two in Aden and one in British Guiana). It prohibited torture and required compliance with the Geneva Conventions and the laws of the country concerned, though a precise explanation of what constituted torture was lacking. The directive distinguished between primary interrogation, which occurred straight after arrest to corroborate a person’s identity and obtain information of immediate value, and secondary interrogation, which lasted for long periods. The directive called for those involved in interrogation to be ‘people of integrity, incorruptible, and firm but not bullies’. ⁶² Therefore the incidence of abuses during interrogation cannot be attributed to a deliberate policy instruction, though the failure to specify exactly which methods were and were not acceptable permitted a dangerous degree of ambiguity to remain. However, the international legal prohibitions then in force against torture, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Common Article Three of the Geneva Conventions, and the European Convention on Human Rights, similarly failed to spell out what torture meant in practice. ⁶³ The directive’s lack of precision also reflected the doctrinal unpreparedness within the army during the Aden campaign. Officers at the Staff College in Camberley only began to receive instruction in how to cope with urban terrorism in 1968. ⁶⁴

Two claims are made in the literature about the scrutiny of detention and interrogation in Aden. Firstly, Thomas Mockaitis believes criticism in Britain over security policy (including interrogation) prevented the British army from defeating the insurgency. ⁶⁵ This perspective echoes the indignation felt by military commanders and officials who thought the politicians at home betrayed them. Lieutenant Colonel Colin Mitchell damned the ‘Squeamish politicians, concerned with their reputations’, and stated complaints from Amnesty ‘meant that the British were helpless’. ⁶⁶ Secondly, Sophia Dingli and Caroline Kennedy argue the Aden campaign was pivotal in the history of British counter-insurgency, because ‘a distinct strengthening of the discourse of human rights throughout the 1960s … forced a change in counter-insurgency practice’. For Dingli and Kennedy, British officials began to worry about accountability for human rights in Aden, whereas in Cyprus only a few years before the authorities were open about brutality. ⁶⁷

These views are both flawed. As this article shall demonstrate in detail, the authorities in London and Aden protected interrogation from outside pressure and allowed torture to continue. They adopted a common stance for democracies that want to keep painful coercion in the interrogator’s repertoire, skilfully evading detection by restricting access to the victims and discrediting their accusers. ⁶⁸ The point about the distinction between Cyprus and Aden is important because such an interpretation leads to teleological conclusions about an ever more humane approach to counter-insurgency. This assumption about changes in British counter-insurgency since the Second World War reflects a bigger debate within security studies over the declining destructiveness of war, especially since 1989. ⁶⁹ Such an assumption cannot be empirically verified on the currently available evidence. Recently released colonial archives from Hanslope Park have permitted systematic investigation into violence in the Malaya, Kenya, and Cyprus conflicts. ⁷⁰ But the absence of almost all military records for Aden from the public realm means drawing conclusions about levels of violence there is unwise.

What can be said with some certainty is that official concern for human rights accountability, and a desire to cover abuses up, did not suddenly appear in Aden. Brutality in Cyprus caused criticism at the United Nations and for breaching the 1953 European Convention on Human Rights, which prohibits torture and inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment. ⁷¹ The Cyprus Bar Council formed human rights committees from October 1956 to monitor and report abuses committed by the security forces, though they came under the influence of the EOKA insurgents. ⁷² Torture allegations constituted part of EOKA’s deliberate propaganda campaign to discredit the security forces, though not all the accusations were fabrications. ⁷³ A Special Investigations Group was established in June 1958 to counter the allegations, and attempted to influence the media by framing events in a positive light or ridiculing detractors. ⁷⁴ In Aden the pressure to comply with human rights standards came from a new source: Amnesty International. But the Cyprus precedent shows human rights norms were beginning to have an impact on policymakers before the 1960s. In both cases the authorities displayed a determination to resist these pressures.

The Aden conflict echoed other British counter-insurgency conflicts, with controversy surrounding detention, interrogation, and the use of force against civilians in general. These commonalities must not obscure the unique dimensions at play in South Arabia, where interrogations were conducted on a more selective basis by military intelligence professionals, and within a legal and administrative framework, though these regulations did little to limit the state’s power or to reassure critics. While it is plausible to claim that human rights norms were now beginning to play a prominent part in public debates about countering insurgency, the evidence from Aden shows the authorities were able to ignore these demands when they deemed national security interests to be overwhelmingly in favour of permitting violent interrogation.

III. Keeping the Meddlers at Bay, December 1963 – November 1965

The High Commission sternly resisted having external inspections of detention and interrogation foisted upon it for the first two years of the emergency. Within only a few weeks of the emergency being declared, the High Commissioner and those conducting the interrogations were convinced they were an essential tool to be protected. Interference came from the press, Parliament, Amnesty International, and the Red Cross movement. A dispute emerged between the Colonial Office in London, which favoured judicial enquiries and ICRC inspections, and the High Commission, which believed they would damage interrogation operations. On occasion the authorities in Aden got the upper hand, for example by holding a judicial enquiry with a very limited remit. But increasingly London and the ICRC managed to have their way.

Detention and interrogation were introduced after an assassination attempt on High Commissioner Sir Kennedy Trevaskis at Khormaksar airport on 10 December 1963, when 48 people were wounded and 2 killed. The High Commissioner declared a state of emergency, deported about 300 Yemenis over the border, and had 55 people arrested. ⁷⁵ The prisoners were held outside Aden itself, firstly in Zingibar in Fadhli sultanate, before being transferred to Ahwar in Lower Awlaqi sultanate, Jaar in Lower Yafai state, and Al Ittihad, the federal capital. ⁷⁶ Trevaskis justified the arrests thus: ‘Once believed to be impotent, authority loses friends, is confronted by more enemies and, eventually, has a much bloodier task to perform in re-establishing itself.’ ⁷⁷ As High Commissioner, Trevaskis inspired those around him; one of his staff recalled: ‘He was large and absolutely unflappable, and had a rather anecdotal style, and a pipe, and gave an enormous feeling of confidence.’ ⁷⁸ These qualities were valued as the security situation deteriorated. In January 1964 the British army sent a team to interrogate the suspected assassins. ⁷⁹ The team concentrated on 11 PSP and ATUC members. Visiting Ahwar, the team’s commander, Major Sedgwick, thought the facilities ‘extremely primitive’, and pressed for a return to Aden. Work began there on 5 January. ⁸⁰ Although Samantha Newbery concludes the suspects were innocent, the team’s report presents a more complex picture. ⁸¹ One suspect ‘had preknowledge of the Bomb plot, but is unlikely to have supported it’, another ‘most likely had full knowledge of the Bomb Plot’, a third ‘knew about the Bomb Plot and perhaps took an active part in the planning’, while the others were innocent. ⁸² Interrogation was quickly deemed an effective intelligence-gathering tool.

Outside interest quickly exploded. Newspapers ranging from the Guardian in Britain to Al Kifah in Aden reported torture being used. ⁸³ Amnesty and the British Red Cross asked the government to admit an ICRC representative to inspect prisons in the federation. ⁸⁴ The Colonial Secretary, Duncan Sandys, pointed to the advantages of disproving the allegations, but accepted the federal government had to agree, unless the High Commissioner issued compulsory ‘guidance’. ⁸⁵ The federation opposed meddlers of all hues. Three federal ministers ‘reacted in a most bitter and resentful manner’ to hearing a parliamentary delegation was en route. ⁸⁶ The military interrogators were also disgruntled. ⁸⁷ Labour MPs Charles Loughlin, Albert Oram, and Dick Taverne arrived on 29 December to investigate detention conditions. They found no evidence of torture. ⁸⁸ Another procession of MPs, lawyers, and relatives came later; Major Sedgwick lamented, ‘proper interrogation became impossible, and activities were confined to conducting gentlemanly interviews’. ⁸⁹ Trevaskis preferred not to press the Red Cross suggestion. ⁹⁰ Yet he felt ‘a special responsibility’ towards the prisoners. Visiting them himself would hardly satisfy the critics, so he proposed a judge-led inquiry. ⁹¹ The Chief Justice for Aden, Richard Le Gallais, undertook the inquiry. His terms of reference were ‘To enquire into allegations of any unjustifiable or brutal treatment of British subjects detained under the Federal Public Emergency Decree, 1963, and to report on their treatment.’ ⁹² This excluded non-British subjects, such as Yemenis. ⁹³ These terms may have excluded significant numbers, as most members of the NLF and FLOSY were then itinerant workers from the Yemen or the sultanates. Having visited all 11 detention sites and interviewed all 54 relevant detainees, plus 31 officials and an ex-detainee, he found:

at no time has there been any unjustifiable or brutal treatment of British subjects. … Their treatment did, however, result in hardships of varying degrees, particularly during the first weeks of Emergency. I am satisfied nevertheless, that although those hardships are most regrettable, they were consequent upon the assessment of the security situation at the time, together with a number of administrative difficulties.

One detainee mentioned ‘abusive behaviour’ by Federal Guard Officer Yacoot at Zingibar prison. Le Gallais argued the detainees suffered because, coming from the middle class, they were unaccustomed to discomfort. He concluded medical attention, blankets, and protection against mosquitos should have been provided earlier, and extra food throughout. The Fadhli authorities were deemed ideal jailers because a number of them were injured at the airport, which ‘meant that their captors were honour-bound to see that no physical harm befell them’. Le Gallais dismissed claims about illegal arrest, uncomfortable transport, a lack of medical care, theft, and poor food and sanitation as mere propaganda. He called threats during interrogation ‘clearly necessary’. ⁹⁴ The Colonial Office used the report to fend off interference, sending a copy to Peter Benenson, the leading figure in Amnesty International, and telling him the ICRC was ‘quite satisfied with the arrangements made by the High Commissioner’. ⁹⁵ The Parliamentary Undersecretary of State at the Colonial Office, Nigel Fisher MP, told Benenson the government viewed the ICRC as an impartial body which had been ‘very helpful to us in the past and very much on our side’, but the High Commissioner opposed pressing the federation to accept a delegation. ⁹⁶ In reply, Benenson warned excluding the ICRC placed Britain ‘in an unfavourable light if it became generally known’. Eight days later the Arab League publicly called for an ICRC mission. ⁹⁷

There were precedents for involving the Red Cross. The ICRC first debated whether to intervene in internal conflicts in 1912. In 1921 it formally expanded its mandate to include civil wars and social and revolutionary disturbances. During the Spanish Civil War around 40,000 prisoners were visited. ⁹⁸ The ICRC again took a close interest in internal conflicts between 1958 and 1970, visiting about 100,000 detainees in 65 states. David Forsyth argues the committee was simply responding to a global increase in civil conflicts. ⁹⁹ When inspecting detention facilities, the ICRC operated according to four basic principles: that it should be humane, impartial, neutral, and independent. The committee believed abandoning these principles could destroy its privileged status and thus jeopardize access. The ICRC applied a policy of confidentiality, whereby public criticism by delegates was prohibited; this contrasted with the public shaming approach taken by Amnesty. ¹⁰⁰ The confidentiality policy proved critical in persuading the authorities in London and Aden to enter into a dialogue with the ICRC delegate. An ICRC delegation met the parties to the Yemen Civil War in November 1962, and began visiting prisoners there the next year. Swiss delegate André Rochat led the mission in the Yemen, and spoke Arabic well enough to interview prisoners without an interpreter. ¹⁰¹ According to Andrew Thompson’s research in the ICRC archives, the Yemen mission was important for the committee because it was situated in a Muslim country at a time when national Red Crescent societies were growing in number and assertiveness. The Egyptian Red Crescent pressured the ICRC to launch a relief operation in the Radfan to aid refugees fleeing British military operations, as did the Yemeni republican regime, which threatened to expel the mission from its country unless Rochat intervened in South Arabia too. ¹⁰² These pressures highlight the regional character of the conflict in Aden, with British, Egyptian, Yemeni, and South Arabian governments jostling for strategic superiority, and willing to use transnational groups such as the Red Cross movement to their own advantage.

André Rochat approached the British Ambassador in Saudi Arabia in May 1964, explaining Geneva had instructed him to visit the federation. Rochat hoped to travel freely, including to the Radfan, where Common Article Three of the 1949 Geneva Conventions justified an interest in the internal armed conflict. ¹⁰³ At a meeting with Nigel Fisher in London, the federation’s Minister for External Affairs, Sheikh Mohammad Farid, acquiesced to pressure for a Red Cross mission to raise funds and assess whether ‘any hardships are being suffered by the civilian population’ in the Radfan. However, he forbad any investigation into detention. The meeting was revealed to Peter Benenson nine days before the High Commissioner found out about it. ¹⁰⁴ Tom Buchanan notes Amnesty sought to transcend party political boundaries. ¹⁰⁵ This example highlights Amnesty’s success in achieving support from Conservative as well as Labour politicians. It also underscores the disagreement between the Colonial Office and the High Com-mission on whether to admit the ICRC. The Acting High Commissioner, Tom Oates, argued London misunderstood its own best interests. The Radfan operations were conducted under British command and largely with British troops. He went on:

HMG has been obliged to take stern measures in Radfan. They have inevitably caused widespread distress and suffering and HMG has come in for bitter criticism. Now that the situation is mending, I believe it would be directly contrary to HMG’s interest to permit a factual expose of the unfortunate side-effects of the Radfan campaign. Criticism of HMG would be redoubled and our actions in Radfan would be used to belabour us in the councils of the world for months to come. ¹⁰⁶

Oates dissembled. Operations in the Radfan deliberately targeted the population – these were not ‘unfortunate side-effects’. Colonial Secretary Duncan Sandys again pressed for the ICRC to be accepted, pointing out its reports were only read by the governments concerned. ¹⁰⁷ But Oates persuaded the federal government to reverse its decision to allow the ICRC access. London finally admitted defeat, and the federation formally refused an ICRC delegation on 30 September. ¹⁰⁸ Another team from the Intelligence Corps’s headquarters at Maresfield visited Aden from 18 September to 25 October. Lieutenant Colonel R.M. Richards, leading the team, deemed the Fort Morbut interrogation centre to be an unsuitable location for the task, as those undergoing interrogation could not be isolated from other prisoners, the complex was overlooked by nearby buildings and a road, and discipline was poor. Richards brought Royal Marine commandos in to provide guard duty because they had experience of interrogation centres through their own exposure to escape and evasion training. As Charlie Standley comments, given that such training subjected troops to harsh treatment they might encounter after capture by an unscrupulous enemy, this hardly qualified them for the careful handling of detainees at a politically sensitive moment. ¹⁰⁹ Richards developed an understanding of the NLF’s political branch, reorganized the interrogation centre, and brought in new equipment. He left the centre staffed by Major Gahan from the King’s Shropshire Light Infantry and Staff Sergeant Zellma from the Intelligence Corps. These two men proceeded to interrogate not only suspected NLF members, but also Yemen army defectors and dissidents from the Radfan. ¹¹⁰

The High Commission only received a temporary reprieve from outside pressure, as calls for an external investigation returned in January 1965 after The Times reported Abdullah al Asnag, the ATUC Secretary General and PSP leader, saying detainees faced ‘psychological and physical torture’. The Colonial Secretary in Harold Wilson’s recently elected government, Anthony Greenwood, asked the new High Commissioner, Sir Richard Turnbull, to consider taking Asnag to see detainees, or instituting a judicial enquiry. ¹¹¹ Sir Richard had served as Minister for Internal Security and Defence, and then Chief Secretary, in Kenya during the Mau Mau rebellion, before being Governor of Tanganyika. ¹¹² He went to Aden as Anthony Greenwood’s personal appointee. ¹¹³ Turnbull’s legal adviser, Hugh Hickling, believed a prompt judicial enquiry promised to dispel the looming torture scandal. He suggested the armed forces persuaded the High Commissioner to ignore his advice, because they were intent on keeping the interrogation centre in business. ¹¹⁴ Indeed, a third visiting Intelligence Corps interrogation team was in action in January. Warrant Officer Everson and Staff Sergeant Miller were dispatched to Aden following increased attacks on British troops in November and December 1964. Everson and Miller interrogated ten prisoners. The organizational structure of the military wing of the NLF was produced from the information they obtained, two arrests were made, and the connection between the Egyptian Intelligence Service and the NLF was more firmly established. The prisoners appeared to have been given some training in how to resist interrogation, most likely in the Yemen. As a permanent staff instructor at the Joint Services Interrogation Unit, where the British armed forces delivered their own resistance to interrogation training, Everson was in a position to know it when he saw it. Everson viewed the NLF as ‘a dangerous Nationalistic anti-British organisation run by enthusiastic, intelligent, patriotic ADENI amateurs receiving professional direction from outside the country’. He recommended the interrogation staff be expanded to four to deal with the serious threat the NLF posed to security in Aden. ¹¹⁵

Just over a week after Everson and Miller departed, Turnbull wrote that letting Asnag meet the detainees would raise their morale, making interrogation less effective, and a judicial enquiry risked stopping interrogation altogether. ¹¹⁶ The British Red Cross pushed for an ICRC delegate as the only way to answer abuse allegations. ¹¹⁷ Perhaps because the argument came from Patrick Renison, another Kenya veteran and now British Red Cross Vice Chairman, Whitehall transmitted his views to Aden. ¹¹⁸ Turnbull stuck to his guns. Given the recent successful visit from the Intelligence Corps team, it seems likely that Hickling correctly assessed the military’s ability to block outside intervention in their interrogation activity.

In a surprise move, M. Rochat deftly outmanoeuvred the High Commission by turning up in Aden on a ‘private visit’ in February 1965. ¹¹⁹ The ICRC often used this tactic, building up trust from an unofficial visit, to partial inspections, to more systematic arrangements. ¹²⁰ He met the High Commissioner, senior federal ministers, civil servants and military officers, and even toured the Radfan. Colonial administrator Michael Crouch was surprised at Rochat’s background ‘as a pastry cook. His main qualification was that he was Swiss.’ ¹²¹ When he encountered stiff resistance on prison inspections, Rochat decided against pressing the matter. ¹²² There were reasons for the resistance: conditions in Aden prison were ‘less than ideal’. ¹²³ Turnbull judged the meetings successful, applauding his counsellor Don McCarthy, an experienced Foreign Office Arabist. ¹²⁴ Foreign Office mandarins were not always appreciated by their counterparts in the colonial service, one noting their ‘desire to conform to a norm somewhere between Machiavelli and Bertie Wooster’. ¹²⁵ After Rochat left, Turnbull reflected: ‘In an Emergency detainees are always one’s Achilles heel; nobody likes the idea of persons being detained without trial.’ ¹²⁶ Instructions on arrest, interrogation, detention, appeals, and the transfer of detainees were drafted by Hugh Hickling and issued by the Deputy High Commissioner in late September. They stated the constitution of Aden prohibited torture and inhuman or degrading punishment or treatment. ¹²⁷ The next month the Aden branch of the Red Cross secured agreement for dependents to visit prisoners once a fortnight. ¹²⁸ There is no sure way to assess whether these changes would have arisen without Rochat’s appearance on the scene. Colonial officials tended to consider themselves a civilizing presence in the territories where they were stationed, so were unlikely to credit foreigners with any influence over how they governed. But there is no escaping the fact that detailed guidelines on detention and interrogation only appeared after the ICRC began taking an interest in Aden’s affairs.

IV. Grudging Cooperation, November 1965 – November 1966

The concessions made by the High Commission in issuing guidelines on detention and allowing detainees’ families to visit were insufficient to stem the demands for independent scrutiny. Over the next year, the High Commission learned how to live with M. Rochat, and how to keep Amnesty out. Ultimately the hostility to outsiders came down to the need to protect interrogation, whereas the grudging willingness to accommodate the ICRC rested on its reports remaining confidential. In March 1966 Colonial Secretary Greenwood insisted on Rochat being admitted to Aden. He rapidly gained a notable degree of access, and adopted a pattern of visiting every other month. His reports were balanced, giving credit where warranted and dishing out condemnation when he found abuses. The ICRC repeatedly discovered evidence of abuses at the interrogation centre. Rochat persistently called for better treatment there, but was pragmatic when necessary, dropping his initial request for a permanent ICRC mission, for example. As will be seen later in the article, resentment at Rochat’s presence never completely disappeared from the High Commission. Amnesty had less success in accessing detention and interrogation facilities, but did exert public pressure on the government which contributed towards the decision to send an investigator from Britain.

Peter Benenson repeated his call for an ICRC delegation. ¹²⁹ Turnbull employed several lines of reasoning to keep it out. On 18 November 1965 he warned the ICRC would judge conditions by European standards. ¹³⁰ The next day he stressed the need for federal consent to invite Rochat back. ¹³¹ He downplayed his ability to influence the federation and, ultimately, to issue instructions. Several scholars argue harsh interrogation was producing valuable insights by this point. ¹³² Intelligence records support the contention. By this time the interrogation centre had six military intelligence personnel, who believed they knew the names or code names of all active NLF members in Aden. ¹³³ In one instance the questioning of a detainee led to the arrest of the head of the NLF in Aden, weapons seizures, and a dip in violent incidents. ¹³⁴ But these gains were temporary. Within three weeks the leadership was replaced and an assassination squad was active. ¹³⁵ By late 1965 interrogation certainly seemed to promise the opportunity to defeat the insurgency, or at least contain it. In retrospect such an assessment ignored the political changes in Aden and at home that would undercut Britain’s staying power. Security policy came to play a marginal role in the conflict’s outcome, as nationalism in South Arabia and the strong desire for independence were beyond Britain’s power to control. ¹³⁶ The 1966 defence review, which reoriented defence policy towards Europe, made any tactical improvements against the NLF irrelevant. As Admiral Le Fanu emphasized to the Chiefs of Staff in December 1967, ‘The announcement that we were leaving some two years in advance of our final withdrawal had led to very great complications.’ ¹³⁷ Up until the moment of withdrawal, however, the security forces were determined to retain their ability to interrogate at will.

Eventually Anthony Greenwood directed the High Commission to host Rochat. In his opinion Britain had nothing to hide. ¹³⁸ As a result Britain gave a categorical assurance at the United Nations that detainees were properly treated, causing disquiet among legal officials in Aden, who saw contradictory evidence. ¹³⁹ A visit by Frank Beswick MP, Parliamentary Undersecretary of State at the Colonial Office, heard disturbing testimony. At Al Mansura detention centre, trade unionist Aulaqi recounted being placed in solitary confinement for 23 days, caned, and threatened during interrogation. Aden informed London it was investigating allegations made before the Detention Review Tribunal. ¹⁴⁰ Complaints tended to relate to incidents months earlier, which complicated their investigation. ¹⁴¹ By 19 December 1965 the British Director of Health Services, Dr Jones, had uncovered nine cases of detainee ill-treatment. He observed: ‘There is medical evidence that these nine men sustained injuries at Fort Morbut, or Al Mansura or in transit between these places. None of the injuries were gross.’ The High Commissioner proposed the police take statements from the men, while medical records for another 11 men were examined. ¹⁴² On 10 March 1966 the Legal Adviser submitted his review of the evidence gathered by the police and from the medical records. He found a pattern ‘of at least degrading and humiliating treatment, at worst vicious brutality’. The papers were sent to the Directorate of Army Legal Services for further action. ¹⁴³ Nothing much seems to have happened when the papers arrived. Following Greenwood’s intervention, Rochat went in an official capacity to Aden in March 1966. The High Commission explained the visit to Al Mansura’s commandant:

Every reasonable facility is to be given to M. Rochat to ensure that his visit is successful. There has been severe, but uninformed, criticism for many months concerning the treatment of detainees and this has gained a certain amount of international currency. This visit by M. Rochat is a very good opportunity to let it be known that the allegations made about detainees being ill-treated are completely groundless; the impressions that he takes away have a good chance of gaining international currency through the UNO, etc. ¹⁴⁴

Despite a prior agreement to interview 5 detainees in private, Rochat interviewed 15. These conversations led Rochat to describe the Fort Morbut interrogation centre as ‘the black spot on the situation’. He hoped to visit Fort Morbut itself when next in Aden. ¹⁴⁵ This was an unrealistic aspiration, at least in the short term. Governments commonly prevent the ICRC from inspecting interrogation facilities, even when they permit access to detention centres. ¹⁴⁶ At Al Mansura, Rochat noted ‘the general impression made by this prison is excellent’. Within the federation as a whole the situation was less positive. From those detainee testimonies which could be verified, Rochat estimated 70 per cent of people arrested were treated well, while 25 per cent were ‘roughly handled in a more or less harsh fashion’, suffering slaps and punches. The final 5 per cent

were subjected to physical torture such as: flogging the human body with suitable sticks (with the prisoners fully undressed); flogging the sexual organs in the same fashion; raining violent blows on the face and body (with the prisoners naked) with the fists and feet, generally by a team of two persons with each taking turns.

While at Fort Morbut, for example, Ahmad Al Haj had been beaten on the genitals and burned on his abdomen with cigarettes, the marks of which were visible over three months later. ¹⁴⁷

Rochat returned in May and presented a copy of his report on the March inspection. The Deputy High Commissioner found ‘a great deal of allegation and very little supporting evidence’. ¹⁴⁸ The concern about a lack of substance persisted throughout the Red Cross mission, but sharing the report helped build trust. Rochat inspected Fort Morbut on 21 May, a significant achievement at such an early stage. He raised the instances of abuse encountered during the March inspection. Major Shaw, the officer commanding, claimed the cigarette burn marks resulted from tribal medicine. Detainee Aadil Khalifa had stated he was repeatedly interrogated naked and beaten several times. Shaw claimed prisoners were only stripped during a search on entering the centre. Rochat quizzed Khalifa’s interrogator, Lieutenant Edmond St Vincent. The latter said on realizing they shared a London legal training he adopted a ‘sophisticated’ approach to the interrogation: tea drinking, discussions about Khalifa’s education, and, eventually, his political activities. He denied using violence. Shaw suggested detainees complained about maltreatment to excuse their having disclosed information. He added that medical inspections and the tape recording of all interrogations were major safeguards. ¹⁴⁹ During the visit to Al Mansura a dispute erupted over medical records. Three people had wounds on their feet which were omitted from their records. The authorities denied the afflictions resulted from abuse, but agreed to more medical checks. ¹⁵⁰ Rochat thought conditions in the detention centre had deteriorated since March. He strongly objected to the use of tear gas to control a riot. ¹⁵¹ Despite having only just gained access to the interrogation centre, the ICRC delegate was prepared to air his views on the conditions there and in the detention centre.

In his report to Geneva, Rochat concluded men had been and probably continued to be treated inhumanely, including by physical and mental torture. Reaching any conclusion was difficult. He judged several complaints from detainees ‘not very reasonable’. To increase his effectiveness, he wanted to establish a permanent ICRC presence in Aden, and gain permission to visit Al Mansura and Fort Morbut at any time. Rochat acknowledged the High Commission’s help in facilitating his work. However, he condemned the blanket refusal to accept any abuses had happened. Al Mansura’s doctor, Dr Hudson, admitted not recording injuries allegedly sustained during interrogations, stating ‘if I chose to write up all the stories which these types tell me, I should never be finished! I can tell you that these stories of torture are bogus.’ Rochat considered this attitude contrary to the doctor’s professional duty. Suggestions that injuries were caused by playing football or running on the stairs, or were self-inflicted, received little credence. Rochat declined to judge whether Lieutenant St Vincent or Khalifa told the truth. Overall on Fort Morbut he concluded ‘a lot of precautions are taken so that the detainees cannot in any event prove that they have been maltreated’. ¹⁵² The delegate clearly attempted to weigh the evidence before him carefully.

Commenting on the May inspections, High Commission official A.J. Wilton criticized Rochat for treating allegations as facts. Wilton claimed Rochat refused several offers to visit Fort Morbut, though this seems very unlikely. Notwithstanding these gripes, Wilton thought ‘on balance we are deriving some benefit from his visits’. Granting the Red Cross access disproved hostile propaganda, and the delegate made sound proposals for improving detention conditions. Eventually, though, the interference could be expected to halt interrogations entirely. This danger called for ‘careful watching’, and made the High Commission reluctant to permit a permanent ICRC presence in Aden and unrestricted access to Fort Morbut. If those facing interrogation thought a Red Cross official was in residence, ‘total silence’ would ensue, a fatal eventuality for the counter-insurgency campaign. ¹⁵³ The Foreign Office, which had taken over responsibility for Aden from the Colonial Office in April, found the arguments between short visits and a longer presence ‘evenly balanced’. London asked the High Commission to accept whichever option Rochat chose, though he should be denied unrestricted access to Fort Morbut. Engaging with the Red Cross would help ‘deflect an excess of interest by other international organisations’. ¹⁵⁴ The Foreign Office viewed the High Commission as excessively cautious in trying to exclude the ICRC, but accepted the reluctance to damage interrogation.

Thus emboldened, the High Commission prevented André Rochat from accessing Fort Morbut when he came back to Aden in July. More than 20 people were about to undergo interrogation, and letting the ICRC in threatened to disrupt the process. ¹⁵⁵ At Al Mansura, three detainees Rochat had spoken to before had been beaten. As a result, some detainees ‘regarded him as a British spy’ and refused to talk. One detainee alleged having a stick inserted in his anus during interrogation. The matter was being investigated. ¹⁵⁶ The report to Geneva for July credited the High Commission with implementing the delegate’s earlier recommendations. Rochat revelled in Lieutenant St Vincent’s departure, ‘one of the chief persons responsible for the reprehensible acts’. Despite the authorities claiming the interrogator’s posting was a routine matter, Rochat gave himself the credit. ¹⁵⁷ Commenting on the July report, Don McCarthy found Rochat ‘a shade more reasonable’ than before. His abandonment of a permanent ICRC presence in Aden was welcomed. The report avoided treating allegations as facts, though the British were expected to disprove all claims against them. ¹⁵⁸ On the next visit, in September, few problems arose at Al Mansura. This time an inspection at Fort Morbut was allowed. One detainee alleged torture, and another falling from a window – the authorities denied both claims. Rochat encountered numerous complaints about the soldiers on guard kicking, hitting, and slapping detainees. His suggestions for improving hygiene were accepted. ¹⁵⁹ The High Commissioner believed Rochat wanted to find things wrong to vindicate his mission, but also called Rochat ‘well intentioned and tolerably upright’. He was determined that help given to the Red Cross should not be extended to Amnesty. ¹⁶⁰

Peter Benenson saw Aden as a test of the Labour government’s commitment to human rights. With supporters in the Labour Cabinet, including Lord Chancellor Gerald Gardiner and Attorney General Elwyn Jones, there were grounds for optimism. ¹⁶¹ In July 1966 Amnesty pressed the government to share the ICRC’s reports, and warned that the Swedish national section was sending an observer to Aden, via London and Cairo. ¹⁶² Talks in London between the Swedish observer, Dr Selahaddin Rastgeldi, and the Foreign Office made clear the Aden authorities would bar access to the detainees. Robert Swann, General Secretary of the International Secretariat of Amnesty, offered to give the government Rastgeldi’s report before publication, and even to let it add comments to the final draft. The offer was ignored. ¹⁶³ Benenson proposed the government send Sir John Whyatt QC, Attorney General in Kenya during the Mau Mau insurgency, to investigate detention in Aden. Benenson asked the Swedish section to defer publishing Rastgeldi’s report until the idea was considered. The government never replied, so Rastgeldi publicly alleged torture in an interview with the BBC on 17 October. ¹⁶⁴ Kirsten Sellars suggests Benenson delayed the report’s publication to protect Labour. ¹⁶⁵ He certainly enjoyed good relations with the government. In early 1966 they together covertly sent thousands of pounds to political prisoners and their families in Rhodesia. However, disagreements over Rhodesia and a suspicious burglary at Amnesty’s London office soured relations. ¹⁶⁶ Rastgeldi’s report was probably delayed to persuade the government to send a British investigator. The person eventually sent may not have been Amnesty’s candidate, Sir John Whyatt, but Sir Roderic Bowen’s mission owed something to Amnesty’s pressure.

Hans Göran Franck of the Swedish section of Amnesty wrote to Prime Minister Harold Wilson on 18 October, summarizing Rastgeldi’s findings. Franck identified ten forms of abuse: enforced nakedness during interrogations; keeping detainees naked in a cold cell; sleep deprivation; removing food just before the detainee started to eat; inserting a pole into a detainee’s anus; beatings on the genitals; burning with cigarettes; forced exercise; withholding toilet facilities; and detention in filthy toilets. Franck called for those responsible to be punished. ¹⁶⁷ Benenson wrote to the foreign secretary, distressed that a government spokesman had attacked Rastgeldi in terms displaying ‘unpleasant racial undertones’. The press claimed a visit by Rastgeldi to Cairo and his Kurdish background made him biased towards the detainees. Benenson rubbished the notion. He said the real problem in Aden was not physical ill treatment (which did happen), but racist humiliation. Detainees became resentful and ‘batten hold of any isolated act of physical ill-treatment and, naturally enough, these become exaggerated out of recognition in the bazaar’. ¹⁶⁸ This is a remarkable statement considering the details provided by Rastgeldi about physical harm.

Rastgeldi’s report is variously judged to be too partial towards the detainees, unconvincing, incompetent, or a sober document. ¹⁶⁹ Released on 11 November 1966, it suffered from the government’s non-cooperation, meaning only claims made by detainees could be assessed. The reliability of allegations was not simply taken for granted, however. On the one hand, detainees were expected to be resentful. Persons connected to the nationalist movement would want to discredit the British. Rastgeldi identified ‘the tendency to over-state which is part of the Arabic literary tradition’. He deemed Le Gallais’s findings, and the personalities of high commissioners Trevaskis and Turnbull, to support the government’s denials. On the other hand, security personnel subjected to attack might seek revenge on the detainees. Ethnic and cultural differences induced interrogators to think Arabs responded only to harsh treatment. Those implicated knew abuse was illegal, so had a reason to lie. The complainants included professional bodies, such as the Civil Service Association and the Aden Jurists’ Association. Finally, certain acts by the High Commission raised suspicions, such as the removal of accused interrogators, the failure to admit the Red Cross earlier (or Amnesty ever), and preventing detainees from seeing a lawyer or their own doctor. ¹⁷⁰ Don McCarthy respected Amnesty, but resented its ‘straying rather far from its own field’ – protecting political prisoners. There were no political prisoners in Aden, only terrorists. ¹⁷¹ Hugh Hickling was struck by Peter Benenson’s ‘zeal and occasionally intense sincerity. … I am glad that England can produce (and, if I may say so, tolerate) such men.’ ¹⁷² Others in the High Commission were less tolerant towards Amnesty’s high-mindedness.

V. Final Investigations, November 1966 – June 1967

In the final year before the departure from South Arabia, Britain proved incapable of reining in harsh interrogation. Further inspections and reports brought about procedural improvements, but the allegations kept on coming. Though some tall tales were told, even the Ministry of Defence understood the brutality accusations amounted to more than mere propaganda. The High Commission became very frustrated with the incessant intrusion by outsiders, yet drew comfort from the knowledge that its goal to protect interrogation was achieved. On 7 November, Foreign Secretary George Brown announced Roderic Bowen was investigating in Aden. A Queen’s Counsel since 1952 and serving Recorder of Cardiff, Bowen sat as Liberal MP for Cardiganshire from 1945 until 1966. ¹⁷³ The move rankled with the High Commissioner, who warned such a move would signal ‘a clear indication of lack of confidence in us and in the military authorities. The effect on Special Branch and interrogators’ morale would be very serious.’ ¹⁷⁴ Bowen’s experience as a judge must have upset Turnbull, given his earlier resistance to a judicial enquiry. The terms of reference were to examine arrest, interrogation, and detention procedures, and to set out how they might be improved.

Reporting on 14 November, Bowen called Al Mansura ‘on the whole satisfactory’ and Fort Morbut ‘extremely grim’. The security forces were praised for protecting the population and conducting themselves with restraint. Bowen advised detainees be weighed, to supplement existing medical checks. Those arrested should be brought to trial whenever possible, and their family promptly told of their arrest. After meeting the Detention Review Tribunal, he advised they see more information on cases and be informed if their recommendations were accepted (few were). Most allegations concerned Fort Morbut, and Bowen condemned ‘three men’, interrogators, for their brutality. Complaints were dealt with too slowly and without sufficient thoroughness. Bowen wanted the Fort Morbut interrogation centre closed and moved to Al Mansura, with only civilian interrogators. He also wanted medical provision civilianized. Finally, the High Commission was advised to prepare a monthly return of complaints and catalogue all investigations and follow-up action. ¹⁷⁵ Bowen’s report changed practice in Aden. Of his seven main recommendations, those five relating to complaints reporting and medical checks were implemented. The proposals to move interrogation to Al Mansura and to employ only civilian interrogators were rejected as impractical. ¹⁷⁶ Informing the family of a suspect’s arrest could ‘spoil follow-on operations against terrorists’. ¹⁷⁷ Turnbull acknowledged some existing practices were flawed. Hitherto, the ‘Director of Intelligence was charged with investigating and reporting upon allegations made against members of his own staff’, and the High Commissioner or his deputy decided whether to proceed with investigations. Now the Assistant Legal Adviser or Legal Adviser made these decisions. ¹⁷⁸

Accounts sympathetic to the military conclude Bowen uncovered little to substantiate Amnesty’s accusations. ¹⁷⁹ Historians writing from a human rights perspective point out the report avoided individual cases, yet still view it as critical of government practice and supporting Rastgeldi’s findings. ¹⁸⁰ At the time the Treasury Solicitor’s Department read the report as critical of the three interrogators, and also the Director of Intelligence, the medical staff at Fort Morbut, and the Army Legal Services for failing to prevent and investigate abuses. ¹⁸¹ The Defence Secretary’s Assistant Private Secretary argued Bowen vindicated Rastgeldi, because he found the allegations were ‘serious and well based’. The Assistant Undersecretary of State agreed with the Treasury Solicitor’s Department, and expected ‘a witchhunt’ for the three interrogators. ¹⁸² But the Commander-in-Chief of Middle East Command, Admiral Sir Michael Le Fanu, insisted ‘the hands of our interrogators are clean. They need support not suspicion.’ ¹⁸³ Sir Richard Turnbull had expressed his hostility to Bowen in advance. Despite the alarm in parts of the Treasury and the Ministry of Defence at Bowen’s findings, harsh interrogation practices were allowed to continue. The senior military and colonial leaders in Aden, Le Fanu and Turnbull, managed to stop what they deemed vital interrogation methods being taken away, and were willing to tinker with detention conditions if this was the price they had to pay.

George Brown, the Foreign Secretary, presented the report to Parliament on 19 December as a White Paper. ¹⁸⁴ In his introduction to the Bowen report, the Foreign Secretary stated that interrogators were doing an important job in countering terrorism. He observed 22 interrogators had worked at Fort Morbut, generally six at once on a six-month tour, and claimed the ICRC’s reports were always acted upon. Brown stated Bowen’s criticisms only related to ‘a short period in the past’. He ended by stressing his admiration for the security forces. ¹⁸⁵ Brown accurately judged the interrogators’ significant role within security policy, and clearly wished to maintain their effectiveness by publicly commending them. Strictly speaking, Bowen’s criticisms had indeed been limited, but this was because his terms of reference were deliberately restricted in advance. After investigations by the ICRC, Amnesty, and Bowen, the pressure for reform was irresistible. The High Commission’s aim now was to ensure the changes were limited and left the interrogators alone.

Because Bowen’s report ignored specific cases, two further inquiries were initiated, by the High Commission and the Royal Military Police’s Special Investigation Branch (SIB). Defence officials queried whether a prosecution could be mounted against the three interrogators. The men were Lieutenant St Vincent (who conversed with Rochat), Warrant Officer Second Class Joly, and Sergeant Knibbs. Lieutenant St Vincent’s position proved tricky, as he had left the army, which normally prevented a court martial. However, the Army Act allowed a person to be charged with a civil offence, with approval from the Attorney General. The Adjutant-General expected permission to be granted ‘if enough evidence is found’. ¹⁸⁶ The SIB report is missing from the archives, though it may be in a file retained by the National Archives until 2018. This file, DEFE 24/252/1, is titled ‘Aden: Interrogation Centre and Amnesty International allegations of torture’. A Freedom of Information Act request for the file was refused. ¹⁸⁷ However, a summary is available.

The SIB took statements from 40 detainees, 10 doctors, 7 members of detention centre staff, 8 interrogators, 16 soldiers of the interrogation centre guard, and from the ‘three men’. The Minister of Defence for Administration surmised ‘the evidence is not clear’. The interrogators and medical staff insisted no abuses took place. But out of the 200 soldiers who at some point did guard duty at Fort Morbut, 16 made ‘allegations which would provide prima facie evidence for a charge of common assault against the “three men” albeit of a technical nature’. By ‘technical nature’ the minister wished to minimize the gravity of the offences. Each piece of evidence for assaults was matched by equally cogent contrary evidence. ¹⁸⁸ The Army Legal Services advised the SIB report failed to provide enough evidence of ‘cruelty and torture’ for a prosecution. ¹⁸⁹ On 27 July 1967 the Foreign Office announced the decision. ¹⁹⁰ Dingli and Kennedy accept the assertion about a lack of evidence, whereas Sellars labels the investigation a whitewash for failing to bring about a prosecution. ¹⁹¹ Securing prosecutions in such cases is often difficult because soldiers feel compelled to protect their comrades rather than to speak openly with investigators. The only way for the matter to have been resolved was through a trial involving dozens, or even hundreds, of witnesses. Huge public controversy and outrage within the army were likely to accompany such a move. But one trial was discretely held.

On 29 March 1967 Ahmad Ali Ghabeb identified Philip Hurr, an interrogator in the Diplomatic Service, as having beaten him two days earlier. Hurr confessed to slapping him ‘because he became hysterical’, but denied the beating. ¹⁹² After an investigation, Hurr was acquitted of assault on 11 May. ¹⁹³ Turnbull had completed his inquiry in late January, covering events from October 1965 to July 1966. In effect judging his own performance, Sir Richard concluded, ‘the procedure we followed was the proper one’, though he confessed the High Commission was ‘far from expeditious’ in dealing with allegations. There were difficulties in separating the truth from propaganda, exacerbated by ‘the Arab gift for the histrionic’ and shortages of staff for following up complaints. In Turnbull’s mind, investigations threatened to have a ‘disabling’ effect on interrogator morale. ¹⁹⁴ Whether this was in fact the case cannot yet be precisely corroborated, as there is no documentary or oral history evidence from the interrogators’ perspective. But the claim is plausible, as the military leadership articulated the same rationale in Kenya and Northern Ireland to hinder the external control of state violence in controversial circumstances. ¹⁹⁵ Teaching notes from the 1968 Army Staff College course, referring to Aden, remarked on the relationship between morale and military tactics:

There is no doubt that soldiers fighting against urban terrorism have a very frustrating life, and that great demands will be made on their discipline. A mailed fist policy will ease this problem of morale, but it is vital that an attitude of ‘all Arabs are en[emy]’ does not gain hold in the minds of the soldiers, for this would have catastrophic results. ¹⁹⁶

There were limitations to Bowen’s achievements, because allegations of abuse continued. The first monthly return of complaints from Aden reached the Foreign Office in January 1967, outlining cases up to 31 December. Besides an overall summary, the High Commission compiled individual case sheets. Nine detainees complained in November and two in December; investigations were ongoing in three cases. ¹⁹⁷ The next month’s return included the case sheet for Umar Said Hanash, a man who complained on 12 November that he was ‘kicked on the shin’. None of the 12 medical checks made during his detention supported the allegation. ¹⁹⁸ During February, 26 complaints were lodged. By 11 April, all but two had been found to warrant no further attention. Several concerned discontent at having to perform menial cleaning duties. ¹⁹⁹ The March summary observed only 4 complaints. ²⁰⁰ But by the end of June complaints were up to the 42 mark. Complaints from 14 detainees that they were forced to stand against a wall for more than an hour were dismissed as untrue. ²⁰¹ Apart from the Hurr case, none of these complaints resulted in prosecution.

André Rochat had returned to Aden in November 1966. He impressed Don McCarthy by deciding a detainee alleging electric-shock torture was very probably lying, as was another who said he saw a detainee beaten unconscious. ²⁰² The next visit took place in late April/early May 1967. Michael Crouch led a party to the military cemetery in Silent Valley to ‘point out how many graves were occupied by victims of detainees’. ²⁰³ Rochat conducted interviews at Al Mansura over six days. Detainee 252 told of being slapped and hit by interrogators, and kept naked all night in a cold room. One man recounted being slapped, pushed, and threatened with a pistol, with another being hit with a rifle butt and another being kicked. ²⁰⁴ Further allegations included naked interrogations and detainees being spat on, slapped, beaten, refused permission to go to the toilet, given dirty drinking water, deprived of sleep, and forced to stand on one leg with the arms raised for over an hour. ²⁰⁵

Several detainees said they were beaten by soldiers when arrested. Three men described their interrogation by a man called ‘Mr. Zain’ or ‘the Frenchman’, which involved slapping and punching, being forced to clean toilets, standing for hours in the sun, standing in front of air conditioning, and food deprivation. Crouch noted the allegations were very detailed. ²⁰⁶ Other detainees talked about forced wall standing, enforced nakedness, and beatings from the interrogators, plus abuse inflicted by soldiers acting as guards at the centre. ²⁰⁷ All major military units in South Arabia provided a company-strength guard at Al Mansura, for about five days in every month. These duties could cause resentment among the assigned soldiers. The 1st Royal Northumberland Fusiliers noted: ‘The prisoners lived in most comfortable conditions, being paid while in detention, provided with food, television etc … rather more comfortable conditions than the soldier guards.’ ²⁰⁸ Rochat’s reports show that Amnesty, Bowen, and the ICRC had limited success in reforming the actual treatment of detainees undergoing interrogation. It is worth remembering these reports were sent to the British government, which did not attempt to close the interrogation facilities.

These records from May 1967 are the last available on Rochat’s activities in Aden, though he continued visiting until the British withdrawal in November. ²⁰⁹ High Commission official E.F.G. Maynard wrote about Rochat’s mission:

There are a very large number of reasons for forming the view that Rochat is neither impartial nor intellectually honest. … He persistently weights his opinions to give the detainees the benefit of the doubt while British officers and officials are credited with innumerable machinations to deceive him. He is quite unable to bring a logical mind to bear on the relative credibility of terrorist detainees and British officials with a tradition of regard for human rights. … when he sees a continuing theme in the stories presented to him by detainees this becomes to him evidence of a continuing pattern in our maltreatment. In fact we know … that the reason for the pattern is that the detainees are briefed beforehand what to say to Rochat who should be experienced enough to be aware of this. … He has a habit of prompting detainees to make allegations which they had previously shown no inclination to make either to the medical or to the investigating officers. ²¹⁰

Sir Humphrey Trevelyan, who took over as High Commissioner on 22 May, shared these sentiments. The accusations were unfair, and indeed, certain colleagues of Maynard and Trevelyan, such as Don McCarthy, took a more positive view of Rochat. Trevelyan realized the political impossibility of directly attempting to rid himself of Rochat, but wanted London to persuade the British ICRC members ‘to insert a little poison into the ears of whoever is responsible on the lines that they are bringing their organisation into disrepute by letting loose on us in Aden—’ (the rest of the sentence is redacted). ²¹¹ The Foreign Office’s upper echelons eventually killed the idea. ²¹² But a junior official in the Aden Department approached Dame Anne Bryans, a governor of the League of Red Cross Societies, before she attended a meeting in Geneva. Dame Anne ‘accepted without question’ his comments about Rochat’s ‘peculiar personality’. ²¹³ Trevelyan later changed his mind. As the British neared withdrawal, Rochat proved helpful in arranging for the Red Cross to take over responsibility for several hospitals, and in conveying messages to and from the NLF. ²¹⁴ Since entering the federation in February 1965, André Rochat and the High Commission had gradually built up a trusting relationship, to their mutual benefit. The outburst by Maynard, and Trevelyan’s foolish scheme to have Rochat removed, showed how precarious the relationship remained, and how sensitive the High Commission was about anything related to interrogation.

VI. Conclusion

The final 31 detainees were released on 16 November 1967. ²¹⁵ By the time of their withdrawal at the end of the month, the High Commission had largely accepted that liaising with the ICRC offered benefits. The miscalculation by London proved to be that the reason for admitting Rochat, his ability to disprove abuse allegations, could not be exploited because in many cases the claims were true. Fortunately for the British and Adeni authorities, his reports were kept secret. This condition allowed the ICRC to achieve improvements in detention conditions while abuses under interrogation persisted. As ever, the question arises of whether the ICRC on balance minimized suffering or helped the authorities cover up serious misdeeds. The United Nations, the press, and Parliament were relatively easy to keep out or manipulate. With powerful friends in British politics, Amnesty International was a more dangerous opponent. For this reason the High Commission fought hard to exclude it, and because there were dark truths to hide. The High Commissioner in Aden sought to protect the interrogators from effective scrutiny before the law. Turnbull stated his priorities clearly:

If we lose these interrogators, or if they become so dispirited or so apprehensive of criticism that they cease to apply themselves with diligence to their work we shall no longer have the information concerning terrorist plans, movement of arms, movement of explosives etc. that is absolutely vital if we are to keep emergency in bounds. Many lives may be at stake. ²¹⁶

London accepted the point. Over the course of four years, evidence compiled by Amnesty, the ICRC, Roderic Bowen, and even officials within the High Commission indicated abuses were ongoing. Figures as diverse as Peter Benenson and Sir Richard Turnbull believed Arabs were liable to dramatic exaggerations, and truthful accusations were mixed in with deliberate falsehoods. But law officers in Aden, André Rochat, Dr. Selahaddin Rastgeldi, and others were capable of discerning truth from fiction. For all those who wanted to retain tough interrogation methods in order to beat terrorism, there were others, at times working in the same building, who placed their priorities elsewhere. As Hugh Hickling recalled, ‘Some of us, in Aden, had at least endeavoured to uphold those principles which, as lawyers, we cherish. Law is, after all, still but a fragile fence round our civilisation.’ ²¹⁷ By working constructively with external allies – the ICRC, Amnesty International, and the Foreign and Colonial Offices – those who placed adherence to the law above security were able to limit the harm done by interrogators and jailers. This delicate balance explains why M. Rochat estimated 5 per cent of detainees suffered physical torture, rather than a higher number. Those who opposed torture managed to achieve greater success in monitoring official practice over the course of the conflict. Though these human rights advocates failed to stop abuses during interrogation, without their efforts the extent of the abuses might have been worse. While the High Commission wanted to protect interrogation, London was more concerned about public embarrassment, but not enough to challenge the colonial authorities and armed forces in the midst of the fighting by shutting down the interrogation centre. Doing so risked provoking a dangerous crisis in civil-military relations and, from London’s perspective, the detainees in Aden were not worth such a rupture.