1.1 The Research Question

The ‘War on Terror’ that was launched after the attacks of September 11, 2001 led to the implementation of security measures that were unprecedented in the history of the United States. “The great ideological struggle of our time” (Bush 2008/01/13) – as former U.S. President George W. Bush later called it – would be based on political and military action “unlike any other we have ever seen” (Bush 2001/09/20).2 Part of this action was an unparalleled detention policy that included the practice of illegal rendition. ‘Rendition’ refers to the capture of suspects from any place in the world “without the knowledge or participation of the host government and without any judicial process” (Margulies 2006: 3; cf. Steiger 2007).3 The detainees were then brought to secret CIA prisons, jails run by third countries, or to the detention facility located at the U.S. military base at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. It is estimated that until 2009 between 150,000 and 200,000 people were affected by this policy of the Bush administration, and that it led to over 100 deaths (Bassiouni 2010: xi). Guantanamo is certainly the most visible and enduring embodiment of this policy. Captives brought there were completely deprived of their rights and left at the mercy of their interrogators. Since its installation in January 2002, Guantanamo has come to epitomize U.S. arbitrariness and human rights violations.4 The detention center’s beginnings were marked by the installation of a prison camp as an extra-territorial site at which U.S. legal code did not apply; at the same time, foreign and international jurisdiction was suspended by military order.5 As part of legal practice, military commissions were installed that resulted in the deprivation of the rights of detainees (Lutz 2011: 304). Hence, prisoners were kept indefinitely without charge and had no possibility of contesting their detention before a court, because even the writ of habeas corpus – the right guaranteed by the U.S. constitution to have the legality of imprisonment reviewed – had been suspended. In fact, detainees at Guantanamo did not even have the chance to seek legal advice. Moreover, although President Bush conceptualized the attacks of 9/11 and the countermeasures by the United States in terms of war, he referred to it as a ‘new kind of war’ – a war in which the Geneva Conventions were no longer applicable. Consequently, detainees were not given the status of ‘prisoners of war’ (POW) but instead were categorized as ‘illegal’ or ‘unlawful’ ‘enemy combatants’. As such, they were excluded from protection under the 1949 Geneva Conventions. At the same time, the denotation of ‘enemy combatant’ remained legally undefined until 2006, which left the detainees’ status, disposition and treatment open to the decisions of the president and his administration (Lutz 2011: 142; cf. Olshansky 2007: 86f).6 Finally, the ban on torture was abandoned by suspending particular laws, declaring international law as invalid in this particular case, or by redefining torture to make the course of action fit U.S. law. As a result, detainees were exposed to ‘enhanced interrogation techniques’ that included torture such as ‘waterboarding’ and other inhumane treatment. Overall, the U.S. was anxious to isolate the captives in a lawless zone. This constitutes an exceptional attempt to gain ultimate authority over the detainees by suspending, circumventing and/or violating the U.S. constitution as well as international treaties and rules of customary international law on human rights, including the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, the UN Convention Against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment, the Geneva Conventions, and the United Nations Charter (Olshansky 2007; Paust 2007; Ginbar 2008; Hucke 2008; Christol 2009; Bassiouni 2010; Lutz 2011).

In 2008, U.S. presidential candidate Barack Obama embedded a different approach to the detention and interrogation policies employed in Guantanamo in his election campaign. He became the voice of a security discourse that advocated the reversal of existing policy, and argued for the closure of the detention center. In fact, immediately after his inauguration in January 2009 President Obama signed an executive order closing the facility. He prohibited ‘enhanced interrogation techniques’ and restored human and legal rights to detainees who were henceforth protected under the Geneva Conventions. Nevertheless, in sum, Obama’s administration failed to fully comply with human rights law: Guantanamo has yet to be closed, indefinite detention continues, as do trials before military commissions. Whereas the Bush administration managed to gain acceptance for a political course that dramatically deviated from established practices, the Obama administration has been unable to fully reverse this course and reestablish what would have been considered ‘normal’ proceedings before 9/11. This is remarkable in a country so proud of its basis in freedom and democracy in which “the concept of the universal rule of law is firmly rooted” (Christol 2009: 6). Since the U.S. is bound by international human rights law that has become “more detailed, more sophisticated and (at least rhetorically) more accepted on a normative basis” (de Londras 2011: 3) than ever before, this development may initially seem surprising.

This book sets out to address the developments as depicted above and does so by reconstructing the constitutive relationship between language use and policy enactment. The study focuses on these questions: First, how was it possible that the United States – a nation that understands itself as ideal in terms of human rights – could install the detention center at Guantanamo and implement policies that included torture? Second, and this is linked to the former: What did the policy reversal, or, more precisely, the attempt at policy reversal, look like? How was the need for a return to the rule of law communicated and why was it not possible for President Obama to fully reach this aim? In approaching an answer to these questions, this study suggests that the issue revolves around the framing of ‘self’, ‘other’ and ‘threat’, and of the acceptance of these framings.7 Analytically, these questions will be addressed by examining the constitution of identity and threat as put forth in the presidents’ security narratives. However, although these framings bear the chance of providing legitimacy for particular actions, they have to be largely approved of if they are to unfold political power. Therefore, this book also examines what kind of resonance these narratives provoked from their audience(s) and whether they were able to dominate public discourse.

1.2 The Theory and Method of Analysis

With regard to the theoretical foundation of analyzing security narratives, this book builds on the insights provided by the Copenhagen School (CS). The CS conceptualizes security as a speech act and thus as discursive practice. This is not to say that threats are generally not real, but this view suggests that politicians can frame people and phenomena in a way that constructs them as a security issue. This kind of framing is understood as a political choice since alternative framings are possible. However, by securitizing a matter or person, the topic is easily shifted into the realm of survival and this empowers the state to do whatever is necessary to avert a perceived threat. Consequently, the Copenhagen School argues that ‘speaking security’ is probably the most powerful tool of legitimizing politics (Wæver 1995; Buzan 1997; Buzan/Wæver 1997; Buzan et al. 1998). It enables actors to break free of the rules and renders actions possible that normally would be forbidden. However, as this book suggests with regard to Obama’s security narrative, securitization can also be used to do the opposite, that is, to argue in favor of a return to the rules and compliance with the law. By examining security discourse, the Copenhagen School provides an expedient theoretical device. It opens up the possibility of demonstrating that Bush’s and Obama’s constitution of ‘self’, ‘other’ and ‘threat’ was a deliberate act of framing, employed to enforce and legitimate certain policies.

Analytically, the study leans on Critical Discourse Analysis (CDA), an approach rooted in a constructivist paradigm. Constructivism assumes that the meaning of subjects and objects is not given but socially constructed. In this sense, subjects and objects are the product of social processes and are situated in a specific historical context. Following this view, there is no inherent truth to meanings. Rather, what appears to be true has been established as such, namely, as this book argues, through language, i.e., through dominant discourses and the meanings they purport. It is thus discursive constructions that position the ‘self’ and the ‘other’ in the social world and make willful action meaningful. CDA lends itself to the analysis of these constructions as it sheds light on how framings create leverage and legitimacy for political action. In addition, CDA fits well with the Copenhagen School’s approach in challenging these very constructions and thus the policies that rely on them. This approach de-naturalizes what is deemed normal or plausible in terms of common sense or social objectivity. CDA and CS share the goal of arousing critical language awareness. Framings are not inevitable in nature; however, if they become dominant in discourse they can become effective in their consequences, since they shape who we are, what we do and how we do it. In that sense, powerful discourses constitute what they speak of (Onuf 1989; Fairclough 1992; Zehfuß 1998, Zehfuss 2001, 2006; Howarth/Stavrakakis 2000; Fierke/Jørgensen 2001; Mills 2004; Howarth 2005; Torfing 2005).

1.3 The Contribution to the Social Sciences

By analyzing the security narratives of President George W. Bush and President Barack Obama in the context of their policies on detention and interrogation, this book hopes to be of value in two ways. Firstly, it aims to contribute to the IR8 literature on the relationship between identity and foreign policy. The latter has been of great concern to IR scholars since the constructivist current placed identity in the center of debate in this field (Wendt 1992a, 1994, 1996; Katzenstein 1996a). Since then, this relationship has been the object of numerous studies. However, ‘moderate’ constructivism is strongly affected by the presuppositions of traditional IR theory. It still tends to treat identities and interests as pre-social, ranks agency over structure and adheres to a causal epistemology. Moreover, it neglects the role of language as a core constitutive in the formation of identity and interest. By applying an approach that analyzes discourse, this book opts for a different paradigm and suggests an alternative conceptualization by focusing on how meaning is produced in the first place. The approach analyzes identities and interests as discursive constructions that enable, yet simultaneously constrain, the possibilities for political action according to their perceived legitimacy. Therefore, this is an amenable manner in which to investigate the genesis of political action, and it also offers a critical stance as it acknowledges that ‘things could be different’. Adopting this approach should provide confirmation of the general insights into the constitutive power of (political) discourse (Onuf 1989; van Dijk 1997b; Zehfuß 1998, Zehfuss 2001; Howarth/Stavrakakis 2000; Fierke/Jørgensen 2001; Torfing 2005).

Secondly, this book seeks to complement the scholarly debate on Guantanamo and the related detention and interrogation policies of the U.S. administrations under the George W. Bush and Barack Obama presidencies. Doubtless, the existing body of literature on the ‘War on Terror’ and adjacent topics is vast. However, most studies that analyze discourse in this field focus on Bush’s framings and on the ‘War on Terror’ in a more general sense.9 As far as studies effectively address the phenomenon of Guantanamo, the main body of literature scrutinizes the legal position of the Bush administration. In this sense, studies by political scholars and legal professionals continue to examine the extent to which detention policy in general and the practices in Guantanamo in particular violated U.S. and international law (Sands 2005; Margulies 2006; Pious 2006; Cohn 2007; Ghoshray 2007; Paust 2007; Feldman 2008; Hucke 2008; Linnan 2008; Christol 2009; Lutz 2011). Other publications focus on the history of the U.S. naval base at Guantanamo Bay concerning U.S. sovereignty and imperial ambitions (Lievesley 2006; Schwab 2009; Strauss 2009; Hansen 2011a), or on the personal tales of woe as told by former detainees (Begg 2006; Sassi 2006; Falkoff 2007; Kurnaz 2007). The focus of this book, however, is different, and it hopes to fill an academic void by juxtaposing Bush’s and Obama’s security narrative regarding Guantanamo with the United States’ detention and interrogation policy. The book’s approach enables a direct comparison of framings to be made and this shows both continuities and divergences in the way in which ‘self’, ‘other’ and ‘threat’ as well as ‘imperatives’ are constructed in the name of security. This study thus seeks to add to the body of literature by shedding light on the question of how torture became at all possible and how Obama tried to return to the rule of law.

1.4 The Structure of the Book

This book’s leading question is in how far language use, more precisely, ‘speaking security’, paves the way for particular political action. This issue is investigated using the security narratives of the U.S. presidents George W. Bush and Barack Obama with regard to their detention and interrogation policies. As noted, the corresponding political process was first marked by the denial of human rights and later by their partial restoration; however, President Obama failed to fully implement his vision. For a theoretically informed analysis of the relations between the presidents’ framings and their policies, this book proceeds in the following manner:

The first part of the book sets out the theoretical and methodological framework of the study. Chapter 2 starts with an overview of constructivism, the fundamental paradigm on which this book relies. It provides an abstract of the development of a constructivist understanding of ‘reality’ and political action in delineation from traditional IR-approaches. A critical reflection on ‘moderate’ constructivism exposes the foundational understanding of the world as socially constructed, yet it also reveals the inconsistencies of this approach. One of its main omissions regards the constitutive role of language in a ‘world of our making’ (Onuf 1989). Hence, the chapter discusses why it is vital to consider language, and to this end introduces John Austin’s speech act theory, which points to the reality-making power of language. In so doing, this book leans towards ‘radical’ constructivism as it treats language as constitutive of meaning. The chapter continues by outlining the significance of this paradigm and its divergence from the ‘moderate’ perspective in terms of ontological and epistemological assumptions, as well as suggesting appropriate methods for conducting research.

Having outlined the central role of language in constituting the social world, Chapter 3 turns to larger theorizing on discourse and provides a brief overview of the genealogy of discourse theory. It thereby outlines the difference between constructivist and postmodern approaches, which helps to position both the Copenhagen School (CS) and Critical Discourse Analysis (CDA) in the field. Whereas CS partly leans towards postmodern thinking, CDA clearly dissociates itself from it but nevertheless integrates some postmodern perspectives upon discourse into its approach. This also exposes discourse theory as being situated in the triangle of the social sciences, linguistics and philosophy. Insights into discourse’s nature include that of intertextuality and historicity. Texts always refer to and build on other texts and they rework them according to the current context. This, however, can also be used as a powerful rhetorical device to shift meaning and substantiate a statement. Overall, discourses are instruments of power as not everybody can contribute to them, let alone dominate them. Rather, they constrain who is authorized to do so, and this narrows the view of the issues to which they refer. Discourses are thus constructions of exclusion – a characteristic that is certainly true of security discourses.

In line with this, Chapter 4 expounds what security is and how it is conceptualized by the Copenhagen School as securitization. In a nutshell, the concept of securitization states that framing a matter in dramatic security terms enables the deployment of extraordinary measures if this framing is accepted by the audience(s). Security is thus understood as a speech act by which normal political proceedings are suspended. This insight has led the securitization model to have a great impact on IR studies, yet it has also been challenged in various ways. As the discussion will show, the Copenhagen School’s model struggles with theoretical inconsistencies as it includes understandings from ‘moderate’ and ‘radical’ constructivism but also touches on postmodern notions. Moreover, the way in which speech acts are conceptualized is viewed as too narrow to completely encompass the topic of ‘security’. The greatest debate, however, was sparked by discussions of the role of the audience in securitizing processes. Whereas the Copenhagen School declares the audience as vital to the success of securitizations, the role of the audience remains undertheorized in the concept and is often neglected in actual research. This chapter addresses the main points of this critique, before discussing a typical characteristic of securitization: ‘Othering’. Securitizations generally include radical forms of identity representations in terms of a threatening ‘other’. These discursive constructions constitute an antagonism between ‘us’ and ‘them’, and if this is linked to a representation of a lethal imminent threat, coercion may be permitted up to the point of annihilation.

Against this theoretical background, Chapter 5 provides the analytical framework for the research topic of this book and describes the mode of conduct. The chapter presents CDA and its guiding questions which can be used for textual analysis, and it defines and describes the motivation behind the selection of data. The body of primary texts that are analyzed in the study consists mainly of presidential speeches and encompasses the speeches that each president made during one year. In Bush’s case, this begins with the period after 9/11: September 2001 to September 2002; in Obama’s case, it covers the entire first year of his presidency between January and December 2009. The restriction of focus on Bush and Obama is justified because U.S. presidents have great discursive power, particularly in the realm of foreign policy where the president functions as “Communicator-in-Chief” (Rozell 1995: 85). Moreover, limiting the actors under investigation enables an in-depth analysis to be conducted and this strengthens the validity of the study’s findings. The coding of Bush’s and Obama’s security narratives led to three main categories: the American ‘self’, the enemy ‘other’, and the ‘threat’ constituted in line with them. These particular framings are analyzed in detail and then related to both the presidents’ actual detention and interrogation policies and the stance of their audiences. The latter will be split into three to four groups: first, the public and the media, second, U.S. Congress, and third, the operating apparatus which incorporates the government itself as well as the military and the secret services; in addition, in Bush’s case, the audience also includes, fourth, the Supreme Court, which went on to reverse some of Bush’s rulings.

The second part of the book turns to the empirical study. Chapter 6 examines Bush’s case. It starts with an analysis of Bush’s identity framings and shows how he constituted ‘self’ and ‘other’ in binary opposition. The sections of the chapter demonstrate in detail how Bush reproduced the sense of America’s exceptionalism and constituted the nation as ‘freedom’s defender’. The ‘other’, in contrast, was viewed as pure evil and even lacked humanity, at least in most of Bush’s representations. In Bush’s religiously imbued language, this clash of ‘us’ versus ‘them’ was one of ‘good’ versus ‘evil’. The threat posed by the ‘other’ was imminent and global, and would be devastating if it were to materialize. It was aggravated by Bush’s claim that the enemy sought weapons of mass destruction. However, while it was said to be certain that the ‘evil-doers’ were waiting to strike, there was great uncertainty about when, where, and how they would do so. Consequently, the only way in which certain information could be gathered about future attacks was to interrogate terrorist suspects held in U. S. custody and to do so in a way that would make them ‘spill the beans’. The ‘other’ was constituted as indeed having knowledge about future attacks. In sum, this chapter argues that Bush’s securitization paved the way for extraordinary measures. As outlined above, Bush and his administration denied terrorist suspects the protections granted to them by the Geneva Conventions and other treaties of international law, and also denied them habeas corpus and legal advice. At the same time, ‘enhanced interrogation techniques’ appeared legitimate, because they were presented as a means of acquiring life-saving intelligence; after all, such measures reflected both the inhumanness of the ‘other’ and the ultimate security needs of America and the ‘civilized world’. As will be demonstrated, this logic strongly resonated with the audiences. The media reproduced Bush’s framing extensively; Congress agreed to it by granting the president far-reaching war powers, and by refraining from controlling his course in the long run. Within the apparatus, concerns and disaffirmation were voiced by members of the military; however, these trailed off and did not lead to political changes. Finally, as far as the review of secondary sources suggests, the courts were rather slow to examine the lawfulness of Bush’s actions. It took years before the Supreme Court reversed some of Bush’s rulings. In terms of the Copenhagen School’s model of securitization, this chapter concludes that Bush’s security narrative was indeed sweeping and rendered emergency measures possible – including the violations of law that occurred in Guantanamo.

Similar to the structure of Chapter 6, Chapter 7 focuses on Obama’s security narrative. Again, the chapter starts by reconstructing the formation of the American ‘self’. It thereby becomes apparent that Obama’s framing differed from Bush’s. Although Obama did constitute America as intrinsically exceptional, he also presented the nation as having lost its bearing. The American people were said to be no longer living up to their values and had to recapture the moral high ground. At the same time, in framing the ‘other’, Obama largely refrained from ‘(e)vilification’ (Lazar/Lazar 2004) and dehumanization, even though the enemy was constituted as highly dangerous and ruthless. In line with these framings, Obama’s ‘threat’ scenario was complex. It included the ‘other’, who posed the original threat, but in contrast to Bush’s framing, it also involved the ‘self’. According to Obama’s narrative, America was endangering itself by breaking rules; the mistreatment of detainees in Guantanamo and elsewhere was seen as a recruiting tool for terrorists and as alienating international partners that America needed in the fight against terrorism. Thus, for security reasons the United States had to revert to the rule of law and terminate coercive detention and interrogation. In sum, this chapter argues that Obama securitized America’s violation of law; yet, this was not done – as the Copenhagen School suggests – to break free of the rules, but to return to them. As noticed above, Obama in fact ended ‘enhanced interrogation techniques’ and in part restored human and legal rights to the detainees. He sought to prosecute terrorist suspects in line with the rule of law and ordered the closure of Guantanamo. With regard to Obama’s shortfalls, the investigation of the audiences indicates that he was unable to establish his narrative as the dominant logic in public discourse. His view that a reversal of America’s detention and interrogation policies was imperative to keep the nation safe was not extensively reproduced. In fact, on all levels considered in this study, i.e., the public and the media, Congress, and the apparatus, Obama faced rejection. In contrast, Bush’s framings continued to be expressed and reproduced in 2009. They proved to be lasting and this book suggests that this hampered the full implementation of the policy changes that Obama had announced.

Finally, Chapter 8 summarizes the book’s argument and the conclusions that can be drawn from the comparison of the presidents’ security narratives. The synopsis points to the power of securitizations but also substantiates the essential role of the audience. In liberal democracies at least, it is clear that securitizations might remain unsuccessful if the securitizer lacks the acceptance of relevant audiences. In summarizing the study, this chapter also points to areas of further research.