I suspect translations haven’t done justice to those involved in interrogations conducted by the international investigation commission. My suspicions were confirmed when I got hold of a transcript of an investigation episode.
In a bugged room the interrogator sat facing a suspect and his translator.
The suspect goes by the name of Jawad, and the interrogator is a Londoner who made no linguistic concession to facilitate the translator’s job.
Jawad was instructed by his superiors to listen only to the translator so as to avoid being trapped by the interrogator.
The translator had followed a two-week English-language course at the behest of the party, and taught English in his native village. By party standards, he is an accomplished linguist. Being an honest man, he brought with him a dictionary so that not a word of English would elude him. At worst, he thought, he’ll be able to grasp the general context of what’s being said and would suitably fill in some blanks if need be. Who’ll be able to judge his work anyway? The interrogator spoke not a word of Arabic and the suspect and higher-ups spoke not a word of English.
The interrogation went on as follows:
Interrogator: Rank and ID please.
Translator: (bewildered) That’s code. They always start their interrogations with code. They are spies, remember. Don’t answer.
In response to the suspect’s silence:
Interrogator: Cat got your tongue?
Translator: I’ll cut your tongue and feed it to animals.
At this, the suspect accused the interrogator of planning to torture him and asked that the Red Cross and human rights organizations be called.
Interrogator: Rocking the boat won’t get you off the hook.
Translator: I’ll take you on a boat trip and hit you with a hook and throw you on the rocks.
The suspect retorted that this would violate the understanding that interrogations will take place in here rather than anywhere else.
Interrogator: What are you rambling about? Clean up your act otherwise you’ll be left out in the cold.
Translator: You should have cleaned err… the crime scene, now I have to let you have the fridge torture where you’ll feel cold.
The suspect grew bolder and more defiant as he noticed that none of the interrogator’s torture threats were carried out so far. Noticing the new-found courage in the suspect, the interrogator struck back.
Interrogator: Look here old chap, you may have been a tough cookie in Lebanon, but in here I call the shots.
Translator: (after looking up the word ‘cookie’ in the dictionary) In Lebanon you were sweet as baklawa, but in here I shoot you when I want.
Empty threats, the suspect thought.
Interrogator: For your own interest you’ve got to spill the beans, gov’na.
Translator: O governor, you should bring me beans if you want me to look after your interests.
He is becoming more accommodating now, the suspect thought and offered his Al Madina Bank credit card as a bribe to the interrogator.
Interrogator: Let’s call a spade a spade, is this evidence as to why this bank went belly-up?
Translator: (after looking up the words ‘spade’ and ‘belly-up’ and pondering the connection) You ordered two shovels, did you pay for them with this card?
Shovels? He must be referring to the recent excavations, Jawad thought, and told the interrogator that as a man of standing in Lebanon he did not have do the spadework.
So, the natives did the dirty work, the interrogator thought he had a clue.
Interrogator: By hook or by crook I’ll make you talk
Translator: I am going to get the words out of your mouth with a crooked cleaver.
To that the suspect answered: I don’t advise you to use this method, it doesn’t work; I tried it once with a poor devil, but when he decided to talk I found out he couldn’t.
Disturbed by the display of callousness, the investigator’s tone hardened.
Interrogator: Wait till I nail you in the corner, then you’ll sing
Translator: I’ll tear your nails out and you’ll feel so much pain that you will sing
They must have gotten hold of one of those nail removers we got from Eastern Europe, the suspect mused. Copycats!
Interrogator: I thought you should know that we got the smoking gun
Translator: I’ll use err.. a special gun on you
As long as he’s just threatening I hope he’ll show me that thing, I might adopt the instrument in my interrogations if I survive this, Jawad thought.
Exasperated, the interrogator decided to wrap up the session.
Interrogator: I won’t go on whipping a dead horse much longer
Translator: Jawad, I’ll whip you till you are dead and stop after that.
That’s a spine-chilling threat, he's giving me more ideas, Jawad thought.
The investigator thought he should leave the suspect worried about a few conjectures he’ll be making in his report.
Interrogator: A lot still needs to be clarified, so I’ll have to take a few shots in the dark to complete my report.
Translator: I’ll shoot you many times at night when it is dark and finish my report.
I wish the guys from al ajhizeh would come and deliver me from this frenzied Englishman before nightfall, Jawad prayed silently.
