The Wounds of Waco
No More Wacos, by David B. Kopel and Paul H. Blackman, Amherst, NY: Prometheus Books, 1997, 524 pages, hardcover, $26.95. Available from American Opinion Book Services, P.O. Box 8040, Appleton, WI 54913. Add $3.00 for shipping and handling.
On April 19th, the final siege began. Government forces, which had been stymied by unexpected resistance, deployed armored vehicles — including a tank — to root out the rebels. When the armored assault failed, the siege commanders turned to poison gas. The standoff finally ended after the rebel stronghold erupted into flame, and the victors triumphantly hoisted their banner above the smoldering rubble. The setting for this tragedy was Warsaw, 1943 — and Waco, 1993.
The Nazi attack on the Warsaw ghetto was intended to render the city Judenrein (Jew-free) in time for the Fuhrer's birthday on April 20th. Many, perhaps most, of the Jews of Warsaw would have been delivered to the Auschwitz extermination camp, where Zyklon B and the crematoria waited. It might be said that by using CS gas in its April 19th assault, the FBI recreated Auschwitz at Mount Carmel. "CS is metabolized in the body to form cyanide and the toxicity of hydrogen cyanide is increased in the presence of carbon dioxide, used as a propellant of the CS at the Mount Carmel Center," write David Kopel and Paul Blackman in their scholarly study No More Wacos. "Hydrogen cyanide is the active ingredient in Zyklon B, the gas used to exterminate Jews, gypsies, and others in the Nazi death camps." In brief, "The fate of the children at Mount Carmel was not dissimilar to that of the children at Auschwitz: gassing, followed by cremation."
From Government to Regime
Granted, the parallels are inexact. The Branch Davidians, unlike the Jews of Warsaw, were not a hunted and persecuted minority — at least, they weren't before February 28, 1993. The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms (ATF), for all of its thuggishness, is not the SS. And the federal government, its numerous offenses against the Constitution notwithstanding, is not yet a peer of Hitler's National Socialist tyranny. However, when the Davidians' Mount Carmel compound erupted into flames five years ago this April 19th, millions of sober, patriotic Americans who witnessed the spectacle became convinced that our society had crossed the critical threshold separating "government" from "regime."
James Madison urged Americans to "take alarm at the first experiment upon our liberties," advising that "prudent jealousy" for liberty isn't paranoia, but rather "the first duty of citizens." "The freemen of America did not wait till usurped power had strengthened itself by exercise, and entangled the question in precedents," Madison observed. "They saw all the consequences in the principle, and they avoided the consequences by denying the principle." As documented by Kopel and Blackman, the federal government's criminal assault on the Branch Davidian community was a tragic consequence of a misbegotten principle: Namely, the assumption that the federal government established to preserve the rule of law is itself exempt from the law.
That embedded misunderstanding was on display in a 1995 segment of the CNN program The Capital Gang, in which Labor Secretary Robert Reich was asked by journalist Robert Novak if the federal government's actions in Waco constituted terrorism. Taken aback by Novak's question, Reich replied that when the term "terrorism" is used, "We're taking about acts of violence [by] Americans against Americans." "Wasn't [the federal attack in Waco] an act of violence?" Novak persisted. Reich clung to his spurious distinction, maintaining that terrorism consists of "acts of violence that are not sanctioned by the government, that are not official." Caught in a candid moment, Reich expressed a view rooted in the totalitarian notion that law is an instrument of the state, and must adapt itself to the state's purposes. The American perspective, by way of contrast, is that the state exists as an instrument of the law, and is necessarily subordinate to it.
Reich's sophistries typify the thinking of the federal establishment. As Kopel and Blackman observe, "Reich was apparently unaware that the word 'terrorist' was first used to describe government officials who created terror." Lenin, the political criminal who invented modern totalitarianism by institutionalizing terror, defined his ruling philosophy as "power without limit, resting directly upon force, restrained by no laws, absolutely unrestrained by rules." As Kopel and Blackman document, the federal authorities responsible for planning and executing the Waco raid, siege, and cover-up subscribed to a concept of governance indistinguishable from Lenin's.
Publicity Stunt
Kopel and Blackman review the compelling evidence that the February 28th ATF raid was a publicity stunt, rather than an exercise in law enforcement. The bureau had conducted a brief investigation of David Koresh's arms purchases during the summer of 1992, and ATF agents had pointedly declined a personal invitation from Koresh to inspect his firearms inventory firsthand. Philip Chojnacki, the ATF commissar in charge of the Mount Carmel assault, later explained that Koresh's invitation had been refused because "at that particular point in time, the weapons in question were completely legal firearms." Kopel and Blackman note that "it is unclear what, exactly, BATF was investigating if it believed Koresh's firearms were lawful." But this line of inquiry assumes that the ATF is a law enforcement agency, rather than — as its dismal institutional history illustrates — an assemblage of armed thugs and bureaucratic opportunists who are only incidentally concerned with law enforcement.
Although the ATF's decision-making process regarding the Davidians remains unclear (largely because the agency refuses to release relevant documents), it is clear that preparations for the raid on the Davidian compound were well underway by December 1992 — a time when the ATF was under political fire because of a 60 Minutes investigation of sexual harassment within the agency. A high-profile raid on an armed "cult" led by a sexually disreputable megalomaniac would be of tremendous public relations value for the ATF. "A BATF memo written two days before the February 28, 1993 raid explained, 'this operation will generate considerable attention, both locally (Texas) and nationally,'" write Kopel and Blackman. "BATF public relations director Sharon Wheeler called reporters to ask them for their weekend phone numbers. The reporters contend, and Wheeler denies, that she asked them if they would be interested in covering a weapons raid on a 'cult.'" (Interestingly, several ATF agents sued the Waco Tribune-Herald and a local television station for "blowing the cover" on the February 28th raid; the suits were eventually settled out of court.)
The script for "Showtime" (the ATF's code name for the Mount Carmel raid) was fairly straightforward: Heroic ATF agents would lead a paramilitary assault upon an "armed cult," seizing its "arsenal," neutralizing the "threat" it purportedly posed to the nearby community, and dragging away its leader in irons. Significantly, the only option considered by the ATF was a "dynamic entry" — that is, a military assault. In order to accentuate their battlefield advantage, the ATF concocted a "drug nexus" in the Davidian case by claiming that a methamphetamine lab was operating on the premises. This triggered the "drug war" exception to the Posse Comitatus statute, permitting the ATF to avail itself of the services of the Army's Joint Task Force (JTF) 6 in planning the raid.
The "drug nexus" claim was a premeditated lie by ATF officials — one that led directly to bloodshed, since it made possible the militarization of the raid. In planning the assault, ATF officials requested flash-bang grenades, but pointedly neglected to ask for specialized assistance to deal with the toxic aftermath of the use of flash-bangs in an attack on a meth lab. "When JTF 6 was not looking," Kopel and Blackman write, "BATF did not even bother to pretend that drugs were involved."
The ATF's culpable indifference toward the truth was coupled with a depraved indifference to human life. As the authors observe, "The fall 1993 Treasury investigation into BATF conduct at Waco offers no indication that BATF raid planners were concerned about — or even discussed —how different arrest strategies might minimize the risk of possible injury or death to innocent civilians, including the children. Instead, materials obtained from the U.S. Special Operations Command under the Freedom of Information Act provide the smoking gun for BATF's culpability in the deaths of February 28." Under the "drug war" exception to Posse Comitatus, the ATF was designated a "Drug Law Enforcement Agency" (DLEA) for the purpose of receiving assistance from the Army. An Army memo compiled in anticipation of the February 28th raid noted that the DLEA involved — that is, the ATF — "recognizes that casualties are probable.... Casualties will be the DLEA, bad guys and civilians."
"Thus, BATF and the military expected 'probable' casualties to BATF agents and 'civilians,' and yet proceeded anyway," observe the authors. This is documented proof that ATF authorities, with clinical premeditation, chose to sacrifice human lives for favorable publicity.
Bad Attitudes
"Showtime" was also intended to teach the public a lesson about "improper" attitudes toward federal law enforcement. As Kopel and Blackman document, the evidence is inconclusive at best that Koresh and his followers were involved in firearms violations. However, according to former ATF director Stephen Higgins, the critical evidence that triggered the raid dealt with "Koresh's religious views, pro-gun rights views, criticism of federal gun laws, and hostility toward the BATF, all of which are protected by the First Amendment. Higgins testified that the necessary probable cause was not obtained until mid-February; the only evidence [obtained] after January involved religious and political views expressed by Koresh." Nine days after the mid began, the ATF obtained a second search warrant that authorized the agency to seize audio and videotapes that contained criticism "of firearms law enforcement and particularly the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms (BATF)." Possession of such materials was to be considered evidence of "motive for wanting to shoot and kill ATF agents."
Given that the ATF admitted casualties would inevitably result from an armed assault, and the ATF's unwillingness to consider options other than an armed raid (such as accepting Koresh's invitation to conduct a "consent search" of the Mount Carmel Center, or arresting him outside the Center), it is the agency, not the Davidians, which bore responsibility for the deaths of four ATF agents and at least six civilians in the February 28th assault.
Kopel and Blackman point out that the official ATF orders on Searches and Examinations state that "the special agent is liable if he/she exceeds his/her authority while executing a search warrant and must be sure that a search warrant is sufficient on its face, even when issued by the magistrate." The ATF's manual also specifies that "officers are required to wait a reasonable period of time to permit the occupants to respond before forcing entry." Further, federal law dictates that an officer executing a warrant may use force to break into a residence "if, after notice of his authority and purpose, he is refused admittance."
But the ATF had no use for the nuances of due process. As ATF agents trained for the raid under the supervision of Green Berets at Fort Hood, "Peaceful entry was not rehearsed, nor was announcement of who the raiding party was, or the existence of a search warrant." The only option contemplated was a straight power play, which would "intimidate so much — by numbers and by appearance (helmets, tactical vests, etc.) — that resistance becomes pointless."
"What Thou Doest ..."
The Davidians weren't aware that resistance was pointless, and they weren't inclined to follow the ATF's script. The crucial element of surprise was lost, in large measure because of the ATF's eagerness to clue in the press. "They're coming, Robert," Koresh told ATF undercover agent Robert Rodriguez shortly before the raid. Kopel and Blackman observe that Rodriguez "was terrified that Koresh would hold him hostage or kill him. Indeed, few criminals — knowing that a violent raid was coming — would not hold on to a very valuable hostage such as a known undercover agent. But Koresh shook Rodriguez's hand, wished him 'Good luck,' and said to Rodriguez the same words that Jesus had said to Judas in parting: 'What thou doest, do quickly.'"
Not only did Koresh allow a potential hostage to go free, he and his followers refused to open fire on the ATF raiders when they were at their most vulnerable. As Jeff Jamar, the FBI's Waco commander, later explained, the Davidians "could have easily killed all of those agents before they even got out of the cattle cars [in which they had been transported to Mount Carmel] with the kind of weapons they had." This fact is impossible to reconcile with the official federal description of the incident as an "ambush."
"If Koresh had wanted to massacre the BATF agents, he could have held Robert Rodriguez hostage and perhaps prevented the BATF from learning that the raid had been compromised," observe Kopel and Blackman. "When the cattle trailers arrived on the property, he could have ordered that firing commence, and almost all the BATF raiders would have been instantly slaughtered. Instead, Koresh shook Rodriguez's hand, and let him go. Rather than firing at the cattle trucks, Koresh let the BATF raiders pour out and run for their assault positions, and at that point he opened the door, exposing himself to the risk of sniper fire. (He was almost instantly shot.) His conduct is highly inconsistent with the conduct of someone who wanted to start a gunfight."
But federal officials remain unwilling to examine the implications of these facts. "During the 1995 House of Representatives hearings on Waco, many government witnesses refused to confront the fact that the Branch Davidians chose not to kill the BATF raiders when it would have been easy to shoot them all," comment Kopel and Blackman. "The fact must not be considered, the witnesses said, because to consider the possibility that the Davidians could have inflicted much more damage would be to suggest (supposedly) that the Davidians' killing four agents was not evil."
While every violent death is a tragedy, it is never evil to kill in self-defense. This is true of every situation in which an innocent person confronts a lawless assault, including those conducted under the color of state authority. When the Davidians repelled the initial ATF raid, they acted as free men confronting the determined lawlessness of a rogue government agency. Just as significant as the fact that the Davidians did not mow down the ATF raiders before the onset of hostilities is the fact that, after the tide had turned and the feds had run out of ammo, the Davidians once again declined to press their advantage. When they commanded the battlefield, the traumatized Davidians, who had lost several of their number in the initial raid, allowed the ATF to collect its wounded and retreat. Had the Davidians been bent upon slaughter rather than self-defense, they would have displayed no such restraint.
Kopel and Blackman revisit, in elaborate yet gripping detail, the 51-day siege and the fiery climax. From the now-familiar narrative, the authors extract some telling illustrations of the pettiness and depravity that were displayed by federal personnel at Waco. "FBI tank drivers destroyed a mobile home, a dozen motorcycles, two dozen children's go-karts ... tricycles, and bicycles; knocked out the windshield of a bus; and flattened [Davidian] Paul Fatta's pickup. Cars belonging to the adults were crushed by tanks, or ripped apart with crowbars, with the windows smashed and the tires slashed." Federal agents executed a "search" at the Mag Bag (an off-site garage) by demolishing it with a tank. FBI tanks were also used to desecrate the freshly filled graves of Davidian victims of the February 28th ATF attack.
At least some of this wanton destruction reflected a calculated attempt to destroy evidence; bullet holes in the destroyed cars, for example, may have been useful in establishing that the ATF had fired first. There are other instances in which the FBI was clearly involved in the obstruction of justice. "Texas Rangers were allowed to begin a limited crime-scene analysis of the shooting of Mike Schroeder," a Davidian who was shot on February 28th while attempting to join his co-religionists; there is reason to believe that Schroeder, after being wounded, was shot execution-style at close range. "When [the Rangers] asked to make casts of footprints and gather other evidence, FBI commander Jamar refused; they were not allowed back on the crime scene for ten days, by which time rain had washed away much of the footprints."
But this is not to say that the FBI was above undisguised plunder. "As is customary after a military triumph, there was also some reported looting," write Kopel and Blackman. "A church safe containing $50,000 in cash, plus platinum and gold, survived the fire and was found in the ashes by the Texas Rangers. The Rangers signed the safe over to the FBI, but the safe did not appear on the FBI's evidence list, and remains missing."
Turning Point
"Thieves for their robbery have authority when judges steal themselves," observed Shakespeare in Measure for Measure. Justice Louis Brandeis, in a moment of un-characteristic lucidity, offered a parallel observation: "If the government becomes a lawbreaker, it breeds contempt for law." Five years after the final holocaust at Waco, the lawless actions of federal agencies at Waco remain largely unaddressed, and the rule of law continues to suffer as a result.
"Most Americans pride themselves on the degree of contempt for the federal government, which they consider inefficient and sometimes corrupt," write Kopel and Blackman. "But what was revealed at Waco was something far worse than the waste of tax dollars. To see Waco for what it is is to see a nation with a press that foments hatred against unpopular religions; an increasingly lawless and militaristic set of national police agencies, and a generally indifferent public. Should America find itself, like so many unhappy nations of history, a country which had a thriving republic at one time, and a militaristic dictatorship a few decades later, historians may mark the American public's response to the government's actions at Waco as an important turning point. If the current generation of Americans is unwilling to restrain the federal government, then how much more dangerous a country will they leave to the next generation?" ·
— WILLIAM NORMAN GRIGG
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