The Power of Secrecy

By Wade Deisman

The story of Maher Arar and of his struggle to learn what role Canadian agencies played in his deportation and torture in Syria took one final, treacherous turn last week after originally redacted portions from the O'Connor report were finally made public.

The passages in question were redacted by the federal government on the pretence that ongoing investigations and/or agreements with allied security services might be compromised by their disclosure.

After their publication on Friday, however, it became clear that this was pure pish-posh, a cynical ruse aimed at shielding the already embattled security services from further infamy.

The patent lack of sensitive national security content in any of the declassified passages set pundits seething in indignation and commentators across the spectrum seemed to agree that the government's actions not only breached public interest, but compromised its essential integrity.

It is not hard to see what might have motivated the government to try to keep the passages in question classified. They are doubly damning in so far as they not only put the lie to the air of innocence maintained by the security services in relation to the fate of Arar, but also show that Canadian authorities were in much closer connection with the agency ultimately responsible for Arar's rendition than originally thought.

Indeed, at least one senior CSIS operative strongly suspected very early on in the whole saga that Arar had been targeted under the American transport-to-torture rendition program led by the CIA. Moreover, such suspicions were conveyed to CSIS high command but were not subsequently shared with the agency's political masters. Furthermore, the declassified portions make it clear that the CIA itself directly contacted the RCMP for intelligence on Arar shortly before he was subject to rendition. Finally, the declassified passages show that the RCMP complied with the request for information immediately and in full–sans the mandatory caveats and qualifications intended to safeguard the use of such information.

While Friday's revelations occasioned a great outpouring of outrage, almost no one professed shock or surprise. Aficionados of such affairs have a sense of how things work on the ground, and no one familiar with the intrigues of intelligence found the twin façades of innocence and ignorance donned by the RCMP and CSIS credible. For others, who had hoped the declassified information would bring clarity and closure to one of the most disturbing ordeals endured by a Canadian in recent memory, there was, at last, only disappointment.

The truth had been wrested from forces with a vested interest in concealing it only at great expense and in the end even the government itself had aided and abetted in its concealment.

It seems fairly certain that we have now been told all that we are likely to ever be told about the role that Canadian agencies played in the Maher Arar affair. Whether we will learn all that we can learn from the affair is, of course, another question entirely. For the great majority of Canadians, the ordeal endured by Maher Arar initially seemed like little more than an object lesson in how good intentions can have bad consequences. Today, however, it stands as a saga of bone-chilling proportions, a staggering cautionary tale about the power of secrecy, the evils of overzealous action, and the truly Herculean struggle necessary to wrest the truth from those who believe they are entitled to disguise, discredit or deny it.

Wade Deisman is director of the National Security Working Group and an expert on policing, intelligence, terrorism and national security at the University of Ottawa.