It Wasn’t Me

Hearts and Minds

Denial has for a long time been practiced as a political tactic. Leaders, like most individuals, rarely want to take responsibility for their errors in judgment. However, unlike individuals, the decisions and mistakes leaders make often have much greater consequences than the mistakes of civilians. Leaders are by virtue of their position accountable for all of their actions because civilians entrust power upon them so that they may make the right choices.

In practice however, politics rarely works in this manner. Clinton’s comparatively innocuous affair with Monica Lewinksy, and his denial of it thereafter, comes to mind. What is more surprising, however is that even dictators who are not really accountable to their constituencies, are reluctant to admit their participation in any wrong-doing.

At first I found this strange, after all most dictatorships are run on a system of fear and intimidation. How can a dictator intimidate people if he doesn’t take credit for the tactics of intimidation that they are employing? Yet after observing the recent behavior of Bashar Al Assad from Syria and the Supreme Military Council in Egypt I believe I am coming to a greater understanding for the basis of their denial tactics.

Both Al Assad and the SCAF have in recent days blatantly denied what the entire world knows has been their wrong doing. After months of attacks against civilians, and the death toll surpassing 5,000, Bashar Al Assad told Barabara Walters in an interview that he had never ordered a policy of repression, that all  of the deaths in the country had been caused by terrorists with no links to the government… “We don’t kill our people… no government in the world kills its people, unless it’s led by a crazy person.”

There is something that is particularly eerie about this statement. It is the recognition that a leader would need to be insane to kill the people whose support they require, and perhaps the message is just that. The Assad regime appears to be sending the message that it is capable of doing the insane to remain in power, and that more importantly it can get away with doing so by simply denying its involvement. There is something very powerful about a regime that can simply dismiss an accusation of repression and have that be a sufficient response to their accountability in mass murder.

Similarly this week Egypt’s military leaders have refused to admit their involvement in the violence that has overtaken Cairo in the last three days. Even after cameras captured soldiers stripping the clothes of women they were beating in Tahrir Square, and men in plain clothes and some in uniform were caught hurling chunks of concrete from the Parliament’s roof on to protestors below, the SCAF has insisted this is not their doing. In Egypt the tactic is greatly linked to the upcoming elections, and their intention to gain votes from Egyptians looking to renew stability in the country. Yet like Assad’s claim, their denial is demonstrative of the great power their position in government can wield. For even if a debate exists on their involvement in the violence, the audacity with which they are able to claim innocence in the face of incriminating evidence suggests that their position has made them inaccessible to the accountability processes that are still fairly new in post-revolution Egypt.

Denying their role in decisions that cause public harm is not only problematic, but rather is a reflection of the ability of dictators and repressive governments to skirt accountability mechanisms. The denial itself may be ridiculous since the public knows it is not true, but it is a manner in which these leaders are able to demonstrate their power, their position above the law.