Waterboarding Focus of Inquiry by Justice Dept.

WASHINGTON — The Justice Department revealed Friday that its internal ethics office was investigating the department’s legal approval for waterboarding of Qaeda suspects by the Central Intelligence Agency and was likely to make public an unclassified version of its report.

The disclosure by H. Marshall Jarrett, the head of the department’s Office of Professional Responsibility, was the first official acknowledgment of an internal review of the legal memorandums the department has issued since 2002 that authorized waterboarding and other harsh interrogation methods.

Mr. Jarrett’s report could become the first public accounting for legal advice that endorsed methods widely denounced as torture by human rights groups and legal authorities. His office can refer matters for criminal prosecution; legal experts said the most likely outcome was a public critique of the legal opinions on interrogation, noting that Mr. Jarrett had the power to reprimand or to seek the disbarment of current or former Justice Department lawyers.

The cloak of secrecy that long concealed the C.I.A.’s secret interrogation program and its legal underpinnings has gradually broken down.

The C.I.A. director, Gen. Michael V. Hayden, publicly admitted for the first time two weeks ago that the agency used waterboarding in 2002 and 2003 in the interrogation of three Qaeda suspects but said that the technique was no longer used, and its legality under current law is uncertain. The technique, which has been used since the Spanish Inquisition and has been found illegal in the past by American courts, involves water poured into the nose and mouth to create a feeling of drowning.

After General Hayden’s acknowledgment, Attorney General Michael B. Mukasey rebuffed demands for a criminal investigation of interrogators who used waterboarding or of their superiors, saying C.I.A. officers could not be prosecuted for actions the Justice Department had advised them were legal. Mr. Jarrett’s review focuses on the government lawyers who gave that advice.

Mr. Jarrett’s disclosure came as prosecutors and F.B.I. agents conduct a criminal investigation of the C.I.A.’s destruction in 2005 of videotapes of harsh interrogations and a week after Congress passed a ban on coercive interrogations, which President Bush has said he will veto.

Mr. Jarrett did not say when his investigation might conclude. He did not respond to a request on Friday for an interview.

In a letter to two Democratic senators, Richard J. Durbin of Illinois and Sheldon Whitehouse of Rhode Island, Mr. Jarrett wrote that the legal advice approving waterboarding was one subject of an investigation into “the circumstances surrounding the drafting” of a Justice legal memorandum dated Aug. 1, 2002.

The document declared that interrogation methods were not torture unless they produced pain equivalent to that produced by organ failure or death. The memorandum, drafted by a Justice Department lawyer, John Yoo, and signed by Jay S. Bybee, then head of the department’s Office of Legal Counsel, was withdrawn in 2004.

Mr. Jarrett said the investigation was also covering “related” legal memorandums prepared by the Office of Legal Counsel since 2002. That suggested the investigation would address still-secret legal opinions written in 2005 by Steven G. Bradbury, then and now the acting head of the Office of Legal Counsel, that gave legal approval for waterboarding and other tough methods, even when used in combination.

Mr. Jarrett said his office was “examining whether the legal advice in these memoranda was consistent with the professional standards that apply to Department of Justice attorneys.”

“Because of the significant public interest in this matter, O.P.R. will consider releasing to Congress and the public a nonclassified summary of our final report,” Mr. Jarrett wrote, using the initials for the Office of Professional Responsibility.

Justice Department officials said that the O.P.R. inquiry began more than three years ago and noted that it was mentioned in a Newsweek article in December 2004. It has since been expanded, the officials said, to cover more recent legal opinions on interrogation.

Mr. Jarrett’s letter, dated Monday, came in reply to a Feb. 12 letter from Mr. Durbin and Mr. Whitehouse to him and the Justice Department’s inspector general, Glenn A. Fine, seeking an investigation into the department’s legal approval of waterboarding.

“Despite the virtually unanimous consensus of legal scholars and the overwhelming weight of legal precedent that waterboarding is illegal,” the senators wrote, “certain Justice Department officials, operating behind a veil of secrecy, concluded that the use of waterboarding is lawful. We believe it is appropriate for you to investigate the conduct of these Justice Department officials.”

Mr. Fine replied in a letter this week that the law gave Mr. Jarrett’s office responsibility for reviewing the actions of department lawyers providing legal advice. Mr. Jarrett confirmed that his office was investigating.

Mr. Jarrett reports to the attorney general and oversees only the professional conduct of Justice Department attorneys. He does not enjoy the independence or authority of Mr. Fine, who covers all aspects of Justice operations and also reports to Congress.

In 2006, when Mr. Jarrett tried to look into the Justice Department’s role in approving the National Security Agency’s domestic surveillance program, Mr. Bush blocked the investigation by denying Mr. Jarrett’s investigators the necessary security clearances. Mr. Fine’s office subsequently obtained the necessary clearances and began such an investigation.

Last November, days after Mr. Mukasey was confirmed as attorney general, Mr. Bush reversed course and granted clearances to Mr. Jarrett’s staffers, who began a delayed review of the legal authorization for the N.S.A. program.

Mr. Durbin and Mr. Whitehouse have been among the most outspoken critics in Congress of harsh interrogation methods. They have called on Mr. Bush to withdraw the nomination of Mr. Bradbury, author of the 2005 interrogation memorandums, as chief of the Office of Legal Counsel; he has filled the job on an acting basis since 2005.

In 2004, Mr. Durbin first proposed a ban on cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment that Congress passed in 2005, when it was sponsored by Senator John McCain, Republican of Arizona.

Mr. Whitehouse, a former United States attorney, said in an interview that he believed the August 2002 memo on torture, as well as classified opinions he had reviewed, fell far short of the Justice Department’s standards for scholarship. He said that in approving waterboarding, the opinions ignored both American military prosecutors’ cases against Japanese officers for waterboarding American prisoners during World War II and a federal appeals court’s decision that upheld the 1983 conviction of a Texas sheriff for using “water torture” on jail inmates.

“I’m very, very pleased that the Office of Professional Responsibility is looking into this,” Mr. Whitehouse said.

Jose Padilla, the American sympathizer of Al Qaeda serving a 17-year sentence for conspiring to help violent Muslim extremists abroad, filed a lawsuit in January against Mr. Yoo, who left Justice in 2003 to return to his job as a law professor at the University of California, Berkeley. The lawsuit claims Mr. Yoo’s legal opinions permitted the designation of Mr. Padilla as an enemy combatant and his interrogation using methods that amounted to torture.

Mr. Yoo, who asserted that a president during wartime has extraordinarily broad powers, was a highly influential figure in the Justice Department in the first year after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks. His views found favor with Vice President Dick Cheney and his legal adviser, David S. Addington, who shared his views of presidential power.

But some of Mr. Yoo’s opinions, including the August 2002 memo on torture, were withdrawn in 2004 after Jack L. Goldsmith took over as head of the Office of Legal Counsel. Mr. Yoo could not be reached for comment Friday.

Top Gitmo lawyer: ‘We can’t have acquittals.’

Col. Morris Davis resigned his position as chief prosecutor for Guantánamo Bay’s military commissions after being placed under the command of torture advocate William J. Haynes. As a result of a conversation he had with Haynes in 2005, Davis tells The Nation that he doesn’t believe “the men at Guantánamo could receive a fair trial“:

“I said to him that if we come up short and there are some acquittals in our cases, it will at least validate the process,” Davis continued. “At which point, [Haynes’s] eyes got wide and he said, ‘Wait a minute, we can’t have acquittals. If we’ve been holding these guys for so long, how can we explain letting them get off? We can’t have acquittals, we’ve got to have convictions.’”

Tape Inquiry: Ex-Spymaster in the Middle

WASHINGTON — It would become known inside the Central Intelligence Agency as “the Italian job,” a snide movie reference to the bungling performance of an agency team that snatched a radical Muslim cleric from the streets of Milan in 2003 and flew him to Egypt — a case that led to criminal charges in Italy against 26 Americans.

Porter J. Goss, the C.I.A. director in 2005 when embarrassing news reports about the operation broke, asked the agency’s independent inspector general to start a review of amateurish tradecraft in the case, like operatives staying in five-star hotels and using traceable credit cards and cellphones.

But Jose A. Rodriguez Jr., now the central figure in a controversy over destroyed C.I.A. interrogation tapes, fought back. A blunt-spoken Puerto Rico native and former head of the agency’s Latin America division, he had been selected by Mr. Goss months earlier to head the agency’s troubled clandestine branch. Mr. Rodriguez told his boss that no inspector general review would be necessary — his service would investigate itself.

It was a protective instinct that ran deep inside the C.I.A.’s fabled Directorate of Operations, the agency’s most powerful branch. The same instinct would resurface months later, when Mr. Rodriguez dispatched a cable to the agency’s Bangkok station ordering the destruction of videotapes that showed C.I.A. officers carrying out harsh interrogations of operatives of Al Qaeda.

“He would always say, ‘I’m not going to let my people get nailed for something they were ordered to do,’ ” said Robert Richer, Mr. Rodriguez’s deputy in the clandestine branch until late 2005, who recalls many conversations with his boss about the tapes.
No Record of Punishment

With the tapes’ destruction now the subject of overlapping Congressional and criminal inquiries, investigators are trying to determine whether Mr. Rodriguez, 59, acted on his own or with at least tacit approval from superiors at the C.I.A. or the White House. Officials now say a recent review by the C.I.A. of Mr. Rodriguez’s personnel file found no record of any reprimand or punishment for his action.

The destruction of the tapes is hardly the first time that the C.I.A.’s mission to take risks and to counter threats abroad has come into conflict with American notions of justice, legality and human rights. From assassination plots in the 1960s to the Iran-contra scandal of the 1980s, American spymasters have found themselves in legal jeopardy for acts they said were lawful and necessary.

The tapes episode and Mr. Rodriguez’s role reflect the intensity of the particular tensions that have played out since the Sept. 11 attacks, a period in which the C.I.A. has been asked to play a new role in capturing, questioning and imprisoning terror suspects, and is now facing questions about whether its conduct crossed the line into illegality.

The events surrounding the tapes unfolded during one of the most tumultuous periods in the C.I.A.’s 60-year history, when the insular and proud clandestine service clashed with the strong-willed team that Mr. Goss, a former Florida congressman, brought with him to the agency. Mr. Rodriguez was “the man in the middle,” Mr. Richer said.

Mr. Rodriguez and Mr. Goss declined to be interviewed for this article.
Mr. Goss was not the first C.I.A. director to discover that operatives who were trained to destabilize foreign governments could sometimes put those same skills to work inside the agency.

In a striking metaphor for Mr. Goss’s powerlessness, as officers of the Directorate of Operations, or D.O., ignored his instructions and shunned his staff, he later told a colleague that “when he pulled a lever to make something happen in the D.O., it wasn’t just that nothing happened,” the colleague recalled. “It was that the lever came off in his hands.”

Mr. Rodriguez joined the C.I.A. in 1976, at a time when the agency was still reeling from Congressional investigations into assassination plots, coup attempts and domestic wiretapping.
With his thick accent and undergraduate and law degrees from the University of Florida, he stood out in the clandestine service, which even in the 1970s was a preserve of the Anglo-Saxon, Ivy League establishment.

But over the next two decades in a series of overseas postings, Mr. Rodriguez ascended the ranks of the directorate’s Latin America division, serving from Peru to Belize and heading the C.I.A. stations in Panama, the Dominican Republic and Mexico.

He ran the kind of espionage missions and covert operations that defined the agency, overshadowing its other task of analyzing intelligence from all sources. Clandestine officers fashioned themselves as the “fighter jocks” of the C.I.A., the swashbuckling spies who risked their lives for their country.

Dominating the Culture

The Directorate of Operations “is a really small part of C.I.A., in terms of budget and people,” said Mark M. Lowenthal, a former assistant agency director. “But in terms of culture, the D.O. dominates the place.” In mid-2005, the directorate was renamed the National Clandestine Service.

A popular boss, Mr. Rodriguez occasionally flashed the maverick spirit prized by clandestine officers. One former colleague recalls that while in Mexico he named his horse Business, instructing subordinates to tell the ambassador or the C.I.A. brass that he was “out on Business.”

By the mid-1990s, Mr. Rodriguez was head of the Latin America division. But his career was nearly cut short when the C.I.A. inspector general reprimanded him in 1997 for a “remarkable lack of judgment” after he intervened to stop jailhouse beatings by guards of a childhood friend arrested on drug charges in the Dominican Republic.

A C.I.A. officer stationed in the Dominican Republic complained to the inspector general that the intervention was improper, according to a former agency official. Mr. Rodriguez was removed as chief of the Latin America division, and later returned to run the station in Mexico.

Shortly after the Sept. 11 attacks, he was tapped to become chief operating officer of the agency’s Counterterrorism Center, based at the C.I.A. headquarters, which was ballooning to nearly 1,500 officers from 300. There was grumbling that Mr. Rodriguez, with no experience in the Muslim world, was given the job. But seven months later, he was promoted to head the center, placing him in charge of the hunt for Qaeda operatives and the interrogation of terrorist suspects in a chain of secret C.I.A. prisons.

By the time Mr. Goss was sworn in as director of central intelligence in late September 2004, the agency’s clandestine service was already embittered by finger-pointing over the Iraq war.
The arrival of the new leader and his outspoken aides, dubbed the “Gosslings” by some within the agency, made matters worse.

Many agency veterans suspected that Mr. Goss and his team were on a White House mission to clean house at the C.I.A. The two top officers of the clandestine service, Stephen R. Kappes and Michael J. Sulick, soon quit.

When Mr. Goss looked for replacements, two agency officers turned him down, fearing that accepting the job would be seen as a betrayal of the clandestine branch. In the end, Mr. Goss offered the job to Mr. Rodriguez.

According to Mary Margaret Graham, a career clandestine officer who recently retired as head of intelligence collection for the director of national intelligence, Mr. Rodriguez had similar concerns about “betraying” fellow undercover officers. He assured her that he had accepted the position “on his terms.”

“I think in hindsight they expected a much more pliable person than they got,” she said.
Mr. Rodriguez traveled to overseas stations more than many predecessors, to build morale and get a firsthand account of operations. One result was that the clandestine branch’s daily operations were often left to his chief of staff, who had worked with Mr. Rodriguez in the Counterterrorism Center. Because she is still under cover, The New York Times is not publishing her name.

Several former C.I.A. officials recall repeated clashes between Mr. Rodriguez’s chief of staff and aides to Mr. Goss on matters from the trivial to the serious.

One serious concern, in the view of Mr. Goss’s staff, was the resistance of Mr. Rodriguez and his chief of staff to outside reviews of such missteps by the clandestine service as the Italian operation. In the matter of the tapes, there was also concern that Mr. Rodriguez and others who were involved in creating them were now pushing to destroy them. “It was just that they weren’t very impartial judges,” said a former C.I.A. official.

Mr. Rodriguez, who was nearing retirement, saw the tapes as a sort of time bomb that, if leaked, threatened irreparable damage to the United States’ image in the Muslim world, his friends say, and posed physical and legal risks to C.I.A. officers on them.

People close to Mr. Goss, who knew from his Congressional years how explosive accusations of cover-up could be, insist he told Mr. Rodriguez the tapes should be preserved.

But if Mr. Goss believed Mr. Rodriguez had disobeyed him, why did he not punish the clandestine service chief? One former C.I.A. official said White House officials had complained about the news media firestorm that accompanied the departure of Mr. Kappes and Mr. Sulick a year earlier, and Mr. Goss felt he could not risk another blowup.

‘Loyal and Dedicated’

Robert S. Bennett, Mr. Rodriguez’s lawyer, said his client was never instructed to preserve the tapes and recalls no discussion of conflict of interest on his part.
“Guys like Jose are loyal and dedicated and take risks to keep the country safe from terrorism,” Mr. Bennett said. “Now, his own government is investigating him, and I think it’s shameful.”

Not long after the tapes were destroyed, Mr. Goss held a management retreat for top agency officials meant in part to soothe tensions among the agency’s dueling branches. There the deputy director for intelligence — the head of analysis — complained openly about the arrogance of the clandestine branch and said undercover officers thought they could get away with anything.

That was too much for Mr. Rodriguez. He stood up in the room, according to one participant in the meeting, and shouted in coarse language that the analysis chief should “wake up and smell the coffee,” because undercover officers were at the “pointy end of the spear.”
The clandestine branch, Mr. Rodriguez was making it clear, would do what it wanted.

Pentagon to challenge interview of 9/11 suspect

Pentagon prosecutors are challenging a military court's decision to let Osama bin Laden's driver send written questions to alleged senior al Qaeda members held incommunicado at Guantánamo.

Defense lawyers for Salim Hamdan, 36, want to ask reputed 9/11 mastermind Khalid Sheik Mohammed, known in CIA circles as ''KSM,'' and six other ''high-value detainees'' what they know about Hamdan's role in al Qaeda's organization.

Based on their answers, they will decide whether to call as defense witnesses any of the seven men, who are fellow detainees now but were held and interrogated for years by the CIA.

Last week, Navy Capt. Keith Allred, Hamdan's military commission judge, ruled that defense lawyers could submit questions to an independent security officer to give to Mohammed and the others held in a restricted prison camp on the base called Camp 7.

The judge ordered that the questions and answers be strictly limited to the time before Hamdan's capture in November 2001 in Afghanistan. Censors will black out any responses that don't cover that time period.

Navy Lt. Catheryne Pully, a military commissions spokeswoman, said on Monday that the prosecution would seek ''reconsideration'' of the judge's decision, which the prosecutors believed raised ``a lot of complicated issues.''

Intelligence officials have described as national security secrets the CIA sites where Mohammed and 14 other detainees were held before their September 2006 transfer to Guantánamo Bay, Cuba. Now they are held in Camp 7, segregated from other detainees at an undisclosed site on the remote U.S. Navy base. The prison camps' spokesman, Navy Cmdr. Rick Haupt, has not been able to say whether the location of the camp itself is a national security secret.

Allred gave the prosecution until Tuesday to find an independent security officer -- who does not work for the prosecution -- to handle the defense lawyers' questions and detainees' answers, if they choose to reply.

Hamdan attorney Andrea Prasow, a civilian on the Defense Department team, said the Pentagon prosecutors agreed to identify the security officer but notified the team on Saturday that they would ask for reconsideration of the question.

Hamdan's lawyers wanted to meet the men in person to assess their credibility as potential witnesses at Hamdan's summertime trial.

The lead defense lawyer, Navy Lt. Cmdr. Brad Mizer, said the attorneys also sought face-to-face meetings with the detainees because, after years in CIA custody, the captives might suspect written questions as an interrogation trick.

Allred's remedy to the defense lawyers mirrors a 2003 formula proposed by a federal judge at the civilian trial of Zacarias Moussaoui, who eventually pleaded guilty to providing material support for al Qaeda and is now serving a life sentence.

In that case, the Justice Department refused to let the defense send questions to Mohammed, the reputed 9/11 mastermind. At the time, he was under CIA interrogation, and the government argued his testimony would harm the war effort.

In this instance, the men Hamdan's lawyers seek to question are now among 15 former CIA detainees in military custody at Guantánamo.

• Mohammed, who according to Pentagon transcripts confessed to plotting the 9/11 attacks along with a long string of other al Qaeda suicide bombings, as well as beheading Wall Street Journal correspondent Daniel Pearl in Pakistan.

• Ramzi bin al Shib, a Yemeni and Mohammed's alleged go-between with some of the 9/11 attackers.

• Walid bin Attash, another Yemeni who supposedly trained some of the hijackers.

• Mustafa al Hawsawi, who supposedly helped get funds to the Sept. 11 suicide squads.

Those four men were identified as candidates for execution at Guantánamo as part of a complex, six-detainee prosecution the Pentagon unveiled last week. Their charge sheets await approval from a Bush administration appointee. None of them yet have lawyers.

In addition, Hamdan's lawyers asked to interview Abu Faraj al Libi, Abdul Rahim al Nashiri and Abdul Hadi al Iraqi because of their knowledge of other al Qaeda operations in Afghanistan not tied to the Sept. 11 strikes.

Military probe into alleged Canadian abuse hits brick wall

Investigation into mistreatment of detainees in our custody deliberately stalled, critics say

After more than a year, the criminal probe into whether Canadian soldiers beat and abused Afghan detainees while military police turned a blind eye remains incomplete and critics say it is being deliberately dragged out.

No charges have been laid, there's no hint when the investigation might end and one person is dead: An Afghan intermediary sent by investigators to try to make contact with the alleged victims was killed by the Taliban.

The Canadian Forces National Investigation Service, the special military police unit conducting the investigation, rejects accusations that it is running out the clock. "It's absolutely a top priority," said Captain Cindy Tessier, referring to Operation Camel Spider, as the probe has been dubbed. Capt. Tessier said five investigators have been working on the case full-time for a year; more than 70 people have been questioned in three countries and huge piles of documents have been sifted and read.

But she could offer no estimate as to when the investigation might wrap up.

Amir Attaran, the University of Ottawa law professor who uncovered the suspicious and unexplained pattern of injuries among detainees, is not convinced the military is serious in its belated and long-running efforts to investigate.

"When the military is investigating the military, which is inconvenient for the military, is it any wonder that the military rags the puck?" he said.

Meanwhile, the military medical records for detainees from the spring of 2006 - when the detainees were allegedly abused and beaten and then treated by Canadian doctors at the main base on Kandahar Air Field - have mysteriously gone missing. "No one at KAF has an explanation for the missing Roto 1 files other than to speculate that it was poor organization," says one report by a CFNIS investigator marked "secret," which was released heavily censored.

The CFNIS is a special unit, independent of usual military police reporting, that was created in 1997 with a mandate to investigate serious and sensitive matters related to Department of National Defence and the Canadian Forces. Its independence permits it "to conduct thorough investigations without fear of influence" from the military chain of command, according to the CFNIS.

Few details of its probe have emerged. Another CFNIS report, from June of 2007, admits that efforts to track down, win the confidence of, and then interview the three detainees allegedly abused while in Canadian custody have failed. "It would be highly unlikely that investigators will be able to interview the detainees" after the grim news that an interlocutor sent by investigators "had been targeted by the Taliban and assassinated."

Sources familiar with the general thrust of the investigation, who discussed its progress on condition that they not be identified, suggest that its focus has shifted from whether one or more detainees was beaten by soldiers or military police to why no military police investigation was launched at the time.

In fact, military police failed to investigate the beatings between April of 2006, when they occurred, and 10 months later when The Globe and Mail reported that Prof. Attaran had furnished the documents to the Military Police Complaints Commission. Once the story broke, multiple investigations were launched.

In its official account of the beating, the military admitted the detainees had been hit but concluded that military police had "used appropriate physical control techniques" to restrain the prisoners, even though their hands were already bound behind their backs.

But the government flatly insisted there was no cause for public concern as its policies regarding detainees guaranteed they were safe both in Canadian custody and after transfer to Afghan prisons. Since then, reports have shown that Afghan detainees have been tortured in Afghan custody, and the government twice changed its policy on handing over prisoners before stopping handovers altogether.

In additional to the CFNIS criminal probe, Canada's top soldier, Chief of the Defence Staff General Rick Hillier, ordered a board of inquiry to investigate all of the policies, procedures and training regarding the capture, treatment and transfer of enemy prisoners that he once disparaged as "detestable murderers and scumbags."

"We'll peel back the layers of the onion and we'll determine what, if anything, occurred, did that meet our policies and processes for handling detainees, do we have to improve anything," Gen. Hillier said. That board is still peeling and hasn't reported. In his last public comment, in December, Lieutenant-Commander Philip Anido said it was awaiting witnesses still not released by the CFNIS and that any report was months from completion. No interim reports or recommendations have been issued.

It has already confirmed it lacks the mandate to examine what happened to detainees after they were given to Afghan security forces - either under the new or old transfer agreements. Now that those transfers have been suspended, it is not clear what value any recommendations will have about a mostly changed system now no longer in use.

The board did not respond to written questions from The Globe and Mail seeking when it might conclude, what it was currently doing and how much it has cost during its first year of existence.

Meanwhile, the Military Police Complaints Commission, an independent, civilian body, also launched an investigation on receipt of the documents found by Prof. Attaran. Both that probe and a second MPCC investigation based on a complaint made by Amnesty International and the British Columbia Civil Liberties Association remain unfinished.

Prof. Attaran said he has been told "the MPCC is being obstructed by the Canadian Forces, who refused to give the MPCC evidence."

Stanley Blythe, chief of staff at the MPCC, said "good progress" has been made, although he confirmed that MPCC investigators are waiting - and have been for months - to interview witnesses not yet released by the CFNIS probe. Mr. Blythe said he could provide no estimate when either MPCC investigation might conclude.

Given the delays, which he believes the military is deliberately creating, Prof. Attaran said, "it is totally baffling to me why the MPCC has not invoked its power to hold a public hearing as it is entitled to do."

Pilot: 'My life was ruined after 9/11'

Algerian suspect vows to continue his legal fight

An Algerian living in Britain who was wrongly accused of being involved in the 9/11 terror attacks tells for the first time today of how his life has been 'ruined' by the police and the Crown Prosecution Service.

Lotfi Raissi, 33, a pilot who had trained in the United States before moving to England, was the first person in the world to be arrested in connection with the atrocities. He was suspected of teaching several of the 9/11 terrorists to fly planes.

Raissi was arrested by British police at his home in west London 10 days after the attacks on the World Trade Centre, following intelligence passed on by the US authorities. He was held for almost five months in Belmarsh high-security prison before being released without charge and subsequently exonerated.

Last week the Court of Appeal ruled that the High Court had been wrong to block him from suing the government for compensation, paving the way for a ground-breaking claim for damages.

'I feared for my life in court and inside prison,' Raissi said. 'They moved me from the high-security unit after three or four days and sent me to the normal wing, where I wasn't safe. I suffered racism and discrimination. I got stabbed twice by other prisoners and no one investigated.'

Raissi says he has had two nervous breakdowns as a result of his incarceration and still suffers from high blood pressure and post-traumatic stress disorder. Despite having been completely exonerated, he is still banned from flying anywhere but Algeria because his US extradition warrant is still outstanding. 'I'm not working, I'm blacklisted from all airline jobs,' he said. 'I'm framed as a terrorist.'

His wife and his brother's sister - who both worked in the airline industry - also lost their jobs, he says, as a result of his arrest. His arrest and subsequent attempts to clear his name have also damaged his relationship with his wife, Raissi said. 'Even with my marriage I struggle very much,' Raissi said. 'Every part of my life I struggled with. It is an agony.'

Raissi was forced to drop a $10m claim against the FBI and the US Department of Justice, but he has pledged to continue with his legal action against the British government. 'It's a matter of principle,' Raissi said. 'I want my life back; I want to clear my name and that of my family and to have a normal life.'

The Home Secretary, Jacqui Smith, has 14 days to decide whether she will fight Raissi's compensation case.

While Raissi said he 'cherished' living in Britain, the strain of the last six years to clear his name have left their mark. 'I learned to forgive, I learned patience,' he said. 'But it has been damaging to my life and my dignity - that is something I will never forgive.'