The curious case of Benamar Benatta

When he closes his eyes at night, Benamar Benatta goes back to the ninth floor of the Metropolitan Detention Centre in Brooklyn, N.Y. Suspected of being the mastermind behind the 9-11 terrorist attacks, for nearly five years he was confined to a cell with “WTC” (World Trade Centre) scrawled above it. He recalls that the light, the humiliation and the beatings were constant. The guards woke him up every 15 minutes.

“I still hear the keys. I hear voices in my head even when I sleep.”

Benatta was 27 years old when he was first detained without charge.

Benatta is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder three years after he was released — without ever being charged — from American custody. Now living in Toronto, he is taking the Canadian government to court over the ordeal. He wants to know why Canadian border guards transferred him under cover of darkness to the United States on Sept. 12, 2001.

“We still don’t have the whole story about what happened,” says his lawyer, Nicole Chrolavicius. “What we do know is that the government didn’t have the authority to do what it did.”

No matter how many times she hears Benatta tell his story, she says the injustice still hits her hard.

The road to torture

“I still hear the keys. I hear voices in my head even when I sleep.” — Benamar Benatta on the lasting impact of his torture in the United States

In August 2001, Benatta, who goes by Ben, was 27 years old. Algerian by birth, he was temporarily living in New York City. He describes himself then as “somebody with humour, somebody who liked to go outside, somebody who liked to party, someone who was optimistic.”

His life is much quieter now. “I lost trust in people.”

Benatta came to North America to desert from the Algerian military, where he served as an officer in the air force. During his service, in the midst of the country’s civil war, Benatta says he received orders that were “against my morals, against my beliefs, against my principles.” He refused them, and was detained for five months.

Looking for a way out, Benatta bribed an official to send him to the United States to participate in training seminars as part of a military exchange program. He did not intend to return. Instead, he headed north. He crossed from Buffalo to Fort Erie on Sept. 5, 2001. He says he had long thought of Canada as a country that respects the rule of law.
    
But on Sept. 12, 2001, while his refugee claim was being processed, Benatta was put in the backseat of a car and transferred by Canadian border guards back to the United States. The transfer, from one jurisdiction to another without legal authority, is alleged to have been an extraordinary rendition. It would be five long years before Benatta crossed the Peace Bridge back to Canada and gained refugee status.

From prison cell to courtroom

Benatta has launched a lawsuit in Ontario Superior Court against the government for its role in his ordeal. The case is still in its early stages, with the parties sharing their relevant documents. But a concern has arisen.

In the very first exchange of papers, some of the documents his lawyer had already obtained through Access to Information were not included in the package the government handed over.

“How many other documents are out there that weren’t disclosed?” Chrolavicius asks.

Benatta canvassing the streets of Toronto, soliciting signatures for his petition to the federal government to open a review into his case.

On Sept. 11, 2009, the eight-year anniversary of the terrorist attacks that were blamed on her client, Chrolavicius was in court on his behalf. She argued for the government’s lawyers to “do better” and make sure every relevant, non-privileged document was handed over.

It has been six weeks, and she is still waiting for a decision.

The Benatta case demonstrates the urgent need for a review and complaint body over all national security agencies in Canada, says Roch Tassé, the national co-ordinator of the International Civil Liberties Monitoring Group.

Currently, the only agency with such a review mechanism is the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS).

“If you think you’re abused by the Canadian Border Services Agency, there’s no avenue whatsoever to launch a complaint. It does not exist,” he says.

“I tried to put the whole ordeal behind my back... Really, you can’t move on. You can’t just forget things like that and put it behind you." — Benamar Benatta on life after tortureLooking at the problem after the fact is still not sufficient, says Paul Robinson, a former military intelligence officer who now teaches at the School of Public and International Affairs at the University of Ottawa.

He says the government needs to be cautious about extending powers, bearing in mind that, once extended, controlling them cannot be done perfectly.

Benatta is currently living with a family in Toronto who are helping him integrate into Canadian society. In September, he took out a loan and began a master’s degree in engineering at the University of Toronto. But he worries that the stigma of being accused of terrorism will haunt him for the rest of his life. He wants an apology from the Canadian government.

“I tried to put the whole ordeal behind my back,” he says. “Really, you can’t move on. You can’t just forget things like that and put it behind you. You need redress.”

The Department of Public Safety refused to comment on the case.

9-11's Forgotten Victim

Listen to Benamar Benatta tell his story of torture and turmoil in his own words.