Fjórða ríkið, Erla og gestapo Bush

Eftir að hafa lesið sögu Erlu Óskar Arnardóttur og sjá í athugasemdum rætnar og allt að því viðbjóðslegar athugasemdir um að hún geti nú bara sjálfri sér um kennt og sé jafnvel að gera úlfalda úr mýflugu, ákvað ég að skoða þetta aðeins betur. Hér er ein grein af hundruðum um Gestapódeildina sem Bush fékk að stofna og stjórna í kjölfar hryðjuverkaárásanna. Þarna er líka sönnun um það að Erla verður ekki beðin afsökunar og íslensk stjórnvöld koma bara til með að koma hallærislega frá þessu máli með fótspor á afturendanum. Hefur td. einhver velt fyrir sér hversu margir af yfir 1200 föngum sem líða helvíti í Guantanamo hafa verið ákærðir og dæmdir? Þrátt fyrir pyntingar og óheyrilegar þjáningar hefur gestapo  ekki getað fært sönnur fyrir hryðjuverkatengslum fleiri en þriggja manna hingað til.

Tenglar á þessa síðu og fleiri eru fyrir neðan greinina.

HOMELAND SECURITY, AMERICAN GESTAPO

The love story of Trevor Hughes and his fiancee Beate began in an elementary school in the Himalayan foothills. They were 'global nomads'. He was a diplomat's son, she the daughter of missionaries. They lived in Asia, attended school together, fell in love and wanted to get married.
     But when Beate, a German national, tried to visit him on a six-month tourist visa she was detained in Atlanta, handcuffed, jailed - even stripped of her diamond engagement ring. Then, after twenty hours without food, she was put on a plane and shipped back to Stuttgart.
     "This isn't the America I fought for," said Hughes, who served in the Navy and U.S. diplomatic corps, "You don't expect that."
     What happened - in Beate’s own words:-
     I spent the night of 6th October 2003 in an American jail - Kennesaw Jail, almost one hour from Atlanta airport. I was handcuffed and treated as though I had committed a heinous crime. Alongside me were numerous males, all of whom had broken U.S. law, and one other woman, from El Salvador, with whom I shared my jail experience.
     The rage and defiance I felt / feel, coupled with exhaustion, absolute disappointment for not being to fly on to see Trevor and sheer disbelief regarding what was happening was the roller coaster I went on for two days . . . and still am.
     I left for Atlanta Oct. 6th. Before checking in at Stuttgart Airport, Germany, I was already told that despite having a valid b1/b2 visa and questioned as to the point of my trip (visiting my fiancé . . .) to what I am doing with my life (enrolled at a university in London on a distance learning course) that they should warn me the U.S. sees a visa as merely 'knocking on their door' and nothing more. I felt they were exaggerating a little and felt they probably thought that I wasn’t telling the truth as they gave me examples of people whom had been returned – most of whom had stated something different in their visa application than what they told immigration.
     After nine hours on Delta I stood in line in Atlanta – and was sent to 'immigration orange'. 'Immigration green' I had the privilege of enjoying for three hours on my last trip to the U.S. 
     The six hours following that were rather phenomenal, and I held on to shreds of hope that I would not be deported. I was interrogated by a man who failed to make eye contact with me once, yelled questions across the entire office at me, went through my bag, read everything and took me apart . . . from my nationality, birth place, to where and why I studied in London to which church my parents attend . . . repeating to me over and over that I was failing to convince him that I was a permanent German resident. I answered everything truthfully, having nothing to hide. My crime in a nutshell, if there is a nutshell in this case, is being engaged to an American and 'never' living in Germany long enough to convince this one man that Germany is home. 
     And so, it became clear that he was sending me 'home' (whatever that was, of course) I fail to know how really to convey the absolute fury and rage at his arrogant, rude, discriminating behavior. It took almost an hour to get all my fingerprints because they kept failing to do it correctly. He thought we had now reached a stage at which he could joke around with me. I resented this man so completely.
     By 11pm we were heading for jail. I was finally 'allowed' to make a phone call to Trevor and also Sue, his mum, and I was able to at least let some of the feeling from the last day out. 
     All my belongings were taken, including all my jewelry and I was handcuffed and marched out with the other 'detainees' to the van. It was reiterated on several accounts that “these were just proceedings, I was not a criminal . . .” Somehow they seemed to think this would make it more acceptable to me.
     So we drove into the night, I looked out at rainy America, ‘land of the free’, through criss-crossed metal bars, wishing I was with my fiancé in Colorado Springs. Trying to comfort the woman next to me, who spoke almost no English, and being thankful that I did, we arrived at the jail almost one hour later. Crass ordering around, mugshots, receiving blankets and being put in our cells followed. We briefly acknowledged the other women in the jail there and I headed for my hard bunk bed.
     I thought about all the love and support I had in this and I tried to sleep. It was loud and light and toilets flushed all night, you could hear the men’s raucous voices. It was, to be sure, interesting to slip into this world and feel all the intense emotions I did, but knowing I would be free again tomorrow. Back in Europe tomorrow. I surprised myself that night, I was okay.
     The next morning - early - a loud “Killguss! Out of bed NOW” beckoned me into phase two of my 'detainee' experience. I was put back into a van and taken to the airport. I was stuck in solitary confinement with no belongings for over four hours. I finally bashed on the door and demanded to be told what I was doing in there, why I couldn’t sit at the front in the immigration office like the night before and demanded food after close to twenty hours of forced fasting . . . Someone finally let me out after being refused the first time. My plea to make phone calls earlier and let out of the cold white room, essentially a toilet, as that was the only thing keeping me company.
     Another six hours of waiting ensued. I escaped to the toilet with my mobile several times to make calls to Trev, got to know some South Africans with a similar story being deported. This was complete and utter injustice. The desire to ever return – regardless how long we had been banned from entering – was non-existent. We were all furious, resigned to our fate and yet telling ourselves that everything was going to be okay, and joking with each other about the absurdity of it all.
     I was finally ‘escorted’ half an hour prior to take-off. My passport was handed to a stewardess. I have never looked forward to a Delta flight more in my life. I was given three middle seats to sleep on; a row clearly held for the Germans returned every day. 
    The same woman from the passport control in Germany met me. She was concerned to hear my story and how I had been treated. I appreciated the time they took to do so. She told me of similar cases. Of a wife that had recently been returned, married to an American military man. Of a musician who had been invited by several American orchestras and had a visa, but was returned because he was questioned as to whether he would be earning money. He was adamant that he had been invited and was doing this voluntarily, but he was interrogated so long that he added he might receive gifts for helping. He couldn’t say. That was considered reason enough to deport him.
     The last four months have seen a wave of people returned to Stuttgart Airport. For almost two weeks there was a person on the flight back every day.
     I am tired. I was met by my aunt and uncle at the airport. I am happy to be home and clean again, to be in Europe, but very sad to be without Trevor. I know we can get through this and have been doing so. We have more dramatic changes ahead. I struggle to know how I will ever find the desire to return again at this point.
     Several government agencies including the Department of Homeland Security either didn’t return telephone calls seeking comment or refused to discuss Beate’s detention.

Hér er svo sýnishorn af starfsháttum Gestapó:

The Mysterious Death of Carol Anne Gotbaum

 

 Hér eru nokkrir tenglar inn á svipuð mál en Gestapó er orðin staðreynd á ný. Enda var afi Bush einn helsti stuðningsmaður Adolfs Hitlers í byrjun ferils hans. Þó að það og tengsl Bush fjölskyldunnar við Bin Laden ættina fara ekki hátt í dag.

http://www.celticsurf.net/freeworld/gestapo.html 

http://noiivan.blogspot.com/2006/12/homeland-security-banning-mandela.html 

http://www.lewrockwell.com/akers/akers72.html  

http://www.mg.co.za/articlePage.aspx?articleid=323835&area=/insight/insight__comment_and_analysis/ 

Athugasemdir

[Gullvagninn (IP-tala skráð) 16.12.2007 kl. 13:35]

Það má vera að maður eigi ekki að halda glæpum afa fólks þeim til foráttu, en síðan Prescott gamli Búsk aflaði fjölskyldunni auðæfa á dauða eigin landsmanna, evrópu og asíubúa, þá hafa yngri búskarnir haldið sig í fjölskylduiðninni, og hefur sá síðasti væntanlega gengið jafn langt eða lengra og Prescott, að minnsta kosti hefur hann malbikað veginn fyrir leiftursókn fasismans, en í þetta sinn verður fátt um skjól, þar sem um heims-fasistastjórn er að ræða, Evrópubandalagið, Afríkubandalagið, Asíubandalagið, tilvonandi American Union og svo sameiuðu þjóðirnar.