“The prisoner is not answering our questions,” the Interrogator said.
“Have you employed all the usual methods?” the Commander asked.
“Yes,” the Interrogator answered.
The Commander pondered this question for some time. Then, he said: “Are you certain the prisoner has information vital to our security?”
The Interrogator shrugged. “Nobody knows what is in another’s mind,” he stated, adding after a moment’s pause, “that’s why we must interrogate people in the first place.”
The Commander nodded. “We must use measures outside those we usually employ,” he stated.
“There are many such methods,” the Interrogator continued. “Which would you suggest?”
“Oh, the usual kind,” the Commander inscrutably replied.
“So, you are ordering me to use the usual unusual measures?” the Interrogator asked.
The man’s obtuseness infuriated the Commander, but he had chosen the path of inscrutability for this conversation, so he choked back his anger. “Yes, yes,” he said with somewhat scrutable impatience. “The usual unusual measures.”
“Very well,” the Interrogator blandly stated, and withdrew.
A few days later, the Commander was attending to important matters of state when the Interrogator requested another audience. “The prisoner is still not answering any of our questions,” he reported.
“You used the usual unusual methods?” the Commander asked.
“I did.” The Commander looked at the Interrogator, who didn’t blink, and wondered which school he had gone to in order to learn his inscrutability technique, because, damn, he was good.
“You will have to use unusual unusual methods, then, won’t you?” the Commander stated as casually as he could.
“The unusual unusual methods?” the Interrogator responded.
“Yes,” the Commander stated. “Give me more.”
“More.”
“Exactly.”
The Interrogator hesitated for a fraction of a moment. The Commander, immediately noticing this, thought, Aha, we’ll see who’s more inscrutable here. “Are my instructions unclear?” he asked.
“Oh, no,” the Interrogator replied.
“Then…?” the Commander prompted.
“We must consider the possibility that the prisoner is innocent and knows nothing of value to us,” the Interrogator stated.
“Impossible!” the Commander shouted. Really, this was too much. “The prisoner is not innocent!”
“Why?” the Interrogator asked.
“Because he is our prisoner,” the Commander, fully in control of himself again, stated with sweet reason.
The Interrogator nodded and left the room.
A couple of months later, a Journalist asked the Commander for an audience. In truth, the Commander did not like this Journalist’s company, for he was always asking impertinent questions that were none of his, or the public’s, concern. Still, silence was often interpreted as guilt, so it was necessary for the proper running of the state to accommodate the agendas of fools.
“Seymour!” the Commander cheerfully greeted the Journalist despite his general unworthiness, “How are you?”
After a couple moments of strained small talk, the Journalist asked, “Are you aware that the Interrogator has been torturing the prisoner?”
The Commander was shocked. “The Interrogator is a representative of the greatest nation in the history of the world,” the Commander upbraided the Journalist. “He would not embarrass his country by engaging in such behaviour.”
“I have pictures,” the Journalist informed him. The Commander, outraged, demanded to see the pictures. The Journalist, obviously unschooled in the delicate sensibilities of leaders, showed the Commander the pictures.
“This is an outrage!” the Commander stated, his lower lip trembling in what he hoped was a sincere semblance of personal unacceptance. “How could such a thing happen?”
“You didn’t authorize this torture?” the Journalist indelicately asked. He’s not getting an invitation to this year’s press ball, the Commander thought to himself.
“The word torture has never left my lips,” the Commander assured him, “except in the context of extreme condemnation.”
The Journalist frowned. “You did not order the Interrogator to do this?” he continued.
“Stand a naked man with a bag on his head against a wall and attach electric cables to his extremities?” the Commander asked. “I most certainly never gave an order to do that!”
“So, you had nothing to do with this?” the Journalist persisted in his impertinence.
“This sort of thing sickens me,” the Commander answered, “as it would sicken any ordinary human being.”
The Journalist frowned, again, but what could he say? Powerful, indeed, is the inscrutability of the west.