ABC News is reporting that Lithuania supplied the CIA with facilities for a secret prison in which eight War on Terra prisoners were interned, interrogated, and tortured.
The black site was located on the outskirts of Vilnius, the nation’s capital. Lithuanian officials are said to have agreed to host the facility as part of a campaign to improve relations with the United States. CIA black—or secret—prisons have previously been identified in Thailand, Poland, Afghanistan, Romania, and Morocco. Like the black sites in Romania and Poland, the Lithuanian facility was shut down in 2005, after the Washington Post reported that War on Terra prisoners were suffering in secret confinement in Eastern European prisons.
The Lithuanian government denies the report, while the CIA has blasted it as “irresponsible.”
“The CIA does not publicly discuss where facilities associated with its past detention program may or may not have been located,” said CIA spokesman Paul Gimigliano. “The dangers of airing such allegations are plain. These kinds of assertions could, at least potentially, expose millions of people to direct threat. That is irresponsible.”
The CIA apparently still doesn’t get that it is the serial abuses of George II’s War on Terra, and not the public airing of those abuses, that “expose millions of people to direct threat.”
Vilnius has a long and bloody history. There are mass graves there containing the remains of tens of thousands of Poles and Jews exterminated by the Nazis. It is also the tomb of the tattered remnants of Napoleon’s Grande Armee.
During a 14th Century civil war the city was razed to the ground. It was repeatedly pillaged and burned in the 17th Century. An outbreak of the plague killed 35,000 people at the dawn of the 18th Century; one hundred years later, the city still hadn’t rebounded, as it was home then to but 20,000 people. In the mid-19th Century Vilnius was the bloody fief of one Mikhail Muravyov, known to the city’s ever-dwindling number of inhabitants as “The Hangman.”
Prior to all this, Lithuania was the last European country to succumb to Christianity, yielding to the pope only in 1387. Gediminas, the nation’s pagan potentate, had told a 1324 papal delegation that he had no desire to forsake Perkunas, a thunder god. He was appalled by Christian intolerance, bloodletting, hate.
“Why do you always talk about Christian love?” he asked the pope’s men. “Where do you find so much misery, injustice, violence, sin and greed, if not among the Christians?”
Given that we now know for certain what we long suspected, that George II pursued his War on Terra under the delusion that he was doing the bidding of the Christian God, Gediminas’ critique remains wounding and germane, 700 years on.