After the September 11, 2001, attacks on the United States, President George W. Bush launched a military offensive in Afghanistan, which led to the capture of Al Qaeda operatives thought to be behind the attacks. Top US officials debated how to extract crucial information from them about Al Qaeda's future plans. The Central Intelligence Agency wanted to apply aggressive interrogation methods, which it argued were necessary to convince detainees to reveal what they knew. But CIA officials worried such techniques might violate both international treaties banning torture and "cruel, inhuman or degrading" treatment of prisoners of war and detainees and, more consequentially, the domestic laws that enforced them. To protect its agents, the CIA sought a clear statement from the Bush Administration on how far agents could go in efforts to force detainees to talk. These cases tell the story of OLC's legal findings and their consequences. Part A (1853.0)describes a series of OLC memoranda on the treatment of detainees in the "war on terror," culminating in an August 2002 opinion that became known as the "torture memo," which narrowly interpreted the legal meaning of torture but took a broad view of presidential wartime powers under the Constitution. Part A ends as Assistant Attorney General and OLC head Jay Bybee must decide whether to sign the opinion. Part B (1854.0) tracks the results of the torture memo, tracing the use of interrogation techniques it sanctioned from CIA detention centers overseas to the naval base in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. In the view of some, these harsher techniques eventually "migrated" to Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq, where abusive treatment of detainees became an international embarrassment for the US. HKS Case Number 1853.0

After the September 11, 2001, attacks on the United States, President George W. Bush launched a military offensive in Afghanistan, which led to the capture of Al Qaeda operatives thought to be behind the attacks. Top US officials debated how to extract crucial information from them about Al Qaeda's future plans. The Central Intelligence Agency wanted to apply aggressive interrogation methods, which it argued were necessary to convince detainees to reveal what they knew. But CIA officials worried such techniques might violate both international treaties banning torture and "cruel, inhuman or degrading" treatment of prisoners of war and detainees and, more consequentially, the domestic laws that enforced them. To protect its agents, the CIA sought a clear statement from the Bush Administration on how far agents could go in efforts to force detainees to talk. These cases tell the story of OLC's legal findings and their consequences. Part A (1853.0)describes a series of OLC memoranda on the treatment of detainees in the "war on terror," culminating in an August 2002 opinion that became known as the "torture memo," which narrowly interpreted the legal meaning of torture but took a broad view of presidential wartime powers under the Constitution. Part A ends as Assistant Attorney General and OLC head Jay Bybee must decide whether to sign the opinion. Part B (1854.0) tracks the results of the torture memo, tracing the use of interrogation techniques it sanctioned from CIA detention centers overseas to the naval base in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. In the view of some, these harsher techniques eventually "migrated" to Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq, where abusive treatment of detainees became an international embarrassment for the US. HKS Case Number 1854.0

After the September 11, 2001, attacks on the United States, President George W. Bush launched a military offensive in Afghanistan, which led to the capture of Al Qaeda operatives thought to be behind the attacks. Top US officials debated how to extract crucial information from them about Al Qaeda's future plans. The Central Intelligence Agency wanted to apply aggressive interrogation methods, which it argued were necessary to convince detainees to reveal what they knew. But CIA officials worried such techniques might violate both international treaties banning torture and "cruel, inhuman or degrading" treatment of prisoners of war and detainees and, more consequentially, the domestic laws that enforced them. To protect its agents, the CIA sought a clear statement from the Bush Administration on how far agents could go in efforts to force detainees to talk. These cases tell the story of OLC's legal findings and their consequences. Part A (1853.0)describes a series of OLC memoranda on the treatment of detainees in the "war on terror," culminating in an August 2002 opinion that became known as the "torture memo," which narrowly interpreted the legal meaning of torture but took a broad view of presidential wartime powers under the Constitution. Part A ends as Assistant Attorney General and OLC head Jay Bybee must decide whether to sign the opinion. Part B (1854.0) tracks the results of the torture memo, tracing the use of interrogation techniques it sanctioned from CIA detention centers overseas to the naval base in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. In the view of some, these harsher techniques eventually "migrated" to Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq, where abusive treatment of detainees became an international embarrassment for the US. HKS Case Number 1854.1

When the World Bank signed an agreement with the government of Peru in December, 1997 to provide a $22.5 million loan to help reform the country's antiquated and corrupt judicial system, the Bank knew it faced risks. Peru's President Alberto Fujimori was under fire and observers considered it possible that, rather than exhibiting real commitment to reform, the government may have been seeking the loan chiefly to lend a veneer of legitimacy to measures that in reality reduced judicial independence and concentrated more power in the executive. On balance, however, Bank officials who had to make the decision on whether to proceed with the agreement believed it offered a rare opportunity to address a variety of longstanding ills-including limited access to the justice system, a crumbling infrastructure, and inadequate training of judges and prosecutors. But just three months after the agreement had been signed, Peru's Congress-dominated by members loyal to the President-passed a measure which led Bank officials to question the good faith of the government. The new law limited the powers of one of the pillars of the loan agreement-the National Council of Magistrates, an independent entity mandated to , ratify and remove judges and prosecutors. The Council's members resigned en masse and, in response, the Bank postponed the effective date of the judicial reform loan by six months-halting any disbursement of funds. But in the days following the announcement, Peru's government put increasing pressure on the Bank to change its mind-and finally summoned the Bank's country director for Peru to a personal meeting with President Fujimori. The country director would have to decide whether to stick with the loan postponement-and, more broadly, take stock of what was really going on in Peru. Would the loan help a government sincerely embarked on reform? Or might it simply abet a government bent on subverting the judiciary to further its own political goals? HKS Case Number 1779.0

In 1990, President Alberto Fujimori swept to power in Peru on a wave of public enthusiasm for his promised reforms. Indeed, over the next five years Fujimori accomplished something of an economic turnaround miracle. He also vanquished a homegrown terrorist movement and proved a willing partner in the war against drugs. The international community, including the US, admired and supported him. By Fujimori's side stood a shadowy figure, Vladimiro Montesinos. Never appointed to any official office, Montesinos nonetheless became the virtual head of the intelligence service, and he exercised unique influence over Fujimori. His reputation was as Mr. Fix-it: he could get anything done. Both Fujimori and the US (he had a relationship with the CIA) benefited from his services. With Montesinos' behind-the-scenes assistance, Fujimori's government became ever more authoritarian, extending executive influence over the judiciary, the military and the legislature. But in September 2000, the reason for Montesinos' remarkable effectiveness was dramatically exposed with the television airing of a videotape in which he bribed an opposition congressman. As the story unfolded, Montesinos was revealed as the mastermind of a sophisticated network of corruption which reached into most sectors of society: the legislature, judiciary, media, military and industry. Working with the primary evidence of the videotapes, this case paints a rarely glimpsed picture of corruption in action. It describes Montesinos' rise to power, and the mechanics and protocols of bribery and fraud. HKS Case Number 1722.0

When the World Bank signed an agreement with the government of Peru in December, 1997 to provide a $22.5 million loan to help reform the country's antiquated and corrupt judicial system, the Bank knew it faced risks. Peru's President Alberto Fujimori was under fire and observers considered it possible that, rather than exhibiting real commitment to reform, the government may have been seeking the loan chiefly to lend a veneer of legitimacy to measures that in reality reduced judicial independence and concentrated more power in the executive. On balance, however, Bank officials who had to make the decision on whether to proceed with the agreement believed it offered a rare opportunity to address a variety of longstanding ills-including limited access to the justice system, a crumbling infrastructure, and inadequate training of judges and prosecutors. But just three months after the agreement had been signed, Peru's Congress-dominated by members loyal to the President-passed a measure which led Bank officials to question the good faith of the government. The new law limited the powers of one of the pillars of the loan agreement-the National Council of Magistrates, an independent entity mandated to , ratify and remove judges and prosecutors. The Council's members resigned en masse and, in response, the Bank postponed the effective date of the judicial reform loan by six months-halting any disbursement of funds. But in the days following the announcement, Peru's government put increasing pressure on the Bank to change its mind-and finally summoned the Bank's country director for Peru to a personal meeting with President Fujimori. The country director would have to decide whether to stick with the loan postponement-and, more broadly, take stock of what was really going on in Peru. Would the loan help a government sincerely embarked on reform? Or might it simply abet a government bent on subverting the judiciary to further its own political goals? HKS Case Number 1779.0

The decade of the 1990s was one of increasingly bitter public criticism of the major US tobacco companies on the part of a number of anti-tobacco advocacy groups, who were collectively known as the tobacco control movement. In their zeal to limit cigarette smoking, it was hardly uncommon for such groups to vilify tobacco companies on moral and ethical grounds. So it was no small surprise when, in the spring of 1997, Matthew Myers, executive vice-president of one of the nation's leading tobacco control groups, the National Center for Tobacco-Free Kids, was invited to sit down with representatives of the tobacco industry to discuss a grand compromise: billions in damages to be paid by the industry in exchange for protection from further legal liability due to the health effects of its products. This case, based on the book "Smoke in Their Eyes; Lessons in Movement Leadership from the Tobacco Wars" (Michael Pertschuk, Vanderbilt University Press, 2001), effectively tells the story of the historic behind-the-scenes tobacco settlement negotiations, which involved the attorneys general of several states, private attorneys, tobacco industry representatives, and Myers, as the lone representative of the tobacco control movement. The case, however, is not designed as a vehicle for discussion of tobacco issues per se (although it can serve that purpose) but, rather, for discussion of the dynamics of negotiations--in particular, the difficult but not uncommon position of Matthew Myers as one who, while attempting to forge a compromise, must also find ways not to lose the support of those in his movement who have more radical views. HKS Case Number 1737.0

In 1990, President Alberto Fujimori swept to power in Peru on a wave of public enthusiasm for his promised reforms. Indeed, over the next five years Fujimori accomplished something of an economic turnaround miracle. He also vanquished a homegrown terrorist movement and proved a willing partner in the war against drugs. The international community, including the US, admired and supported him. By Fujimori's side stood a shadowy figure, Vladimiro Montesinos. Never appointed to any official office, Montesinos nonetheless became the virtual head of the intelligence service, and he exercised unique influence over Fujimori. His reputation was as Mr. Fix-it: he could get anything done. Both Fujimori and the US (he had a relationship with the CIA) benefited from his services. With Montesinos' behind-the-scenes assistance, Fujimori's government became ever more authoritarian, extending executive influence over the judiciary, the military and the legislature. But in September 2000, the reason for Montesinos' remarkable effectiveness was dramatically exposed with the television airing of a videotape in which he bribed an opposition congressman. As the story unfolded, Montesinos was revealed as the mastermind of a sophisticated network of corruption which reached into most sectors of society: the legislature, judiciary, media, military and industry. Working with the primary evidence of the videotapes, this case paints a rarely glimpsed picture of corruption in action. It describes Montesinos' rise to power, and the mechanics and protocols of bribery and fraud. HKS Case Number 1722.0

In July 1991, South African president F.W. de Klerk announced the appointment of Hermanus Kriel to the cabinet post of minister of law and order. As the official responsible for oversight of the controversial national police force, the South African Police (SAP), Kriel would perhaps have the hardest job in a rapidly changing South Africa: a job made all the more daunting by recent revelations of a police role in fanning the flames of factional strife among blacks. The growing scandal had reinforced the SAP's reputation among black South Africans as one of the most hated symbols of white rule. For over four decades, the South African Police had been entrusted with enforcing the country's notorious and iniquitous system of apartheid--a task it had performed with what many regarded as excessive zeal and brutality. All this had been done by the SAP in the name of the apartheid system, which it was sworn to uphold. Yet as the 1980s drew to a close, the underpinnings of that system began to change dramatically and SAP's mission was no longer in force. This case details the changes that took place within SAP during the post-apartheid period. It should be paired with HKS829 (Part A). HKS Case Number 1095.1.

When Washington attorney and longtime Capital Hill staff member James Woolsey became director of the Central Intelligence Agency in 1993, he inherited a bombshell that would soon become public. A joint CIA-FBI investigation had found that Aldrich Ames, a longtime Agency employee, had sold intelligence secrets to the Soviet Union. Ames had compromised the safety of Soviets, who had sought to help the US, in exchange for hundreds of thousands of dollars, with which he bought a large home and fancy cars. The public announcement of the Ames scandal in February 1994 would pose a dilemma for Woolsey. Public and Congressional reaction -- focused on the failure of the CIA itself to detect Ames' duplicity for almost a decade -- was harshly critical of the Agency. There was a widespread expectation that Woolsey would mete out harsh punishment for those who had failed to detect Ames' activity. For his part, however, Woolsey was unsure as to what sort of punishment, if any, was appropriate. As a public clamor grew for "heads to roll," Woolsey would have to consider what was fair to long-time CIA officials, what was best for the morale of a beleaguered agency, and what was expected by the public. HKS Case Number 1339.0.

When Washington attorney and longtime Capital Hill staff member James Woolsey became director of the Central Intelligence Agency in 1993, he inherited a bombshell that would soon become public. A joint CIA-FBI investigation had found that Aldrich Ames, a longtime Agency employee, had sold intelligence secrets to the Soviet Union. Ames had compromised the safety of Soviets, who had sought to help the US, in exchange for hundreds of thousands of dollars, with which he bought a large home and fancy cars. The public announcement of the Ames scandal in February 1994 would pose a dilemma for Woolsey. Public and Congressional reaction -- focused on the failure of the CIA itself to detect Ames' duplicity for almost a decade -- was harshly critical of the Agency. There was a widespread expectation that Woolsey would mete out harsh punishment for those who had failed to detect Ames' activity. For his part, however, Woolsey was unsure as to what sort of punishment, if any, was appropriate. As a public clamor grew for "heads to roll," Woolsey would have to consider what was fair to long-time CIA officials, what was best for the morale of a beleaguered agency, and what was expected by the public. HKS Case Number 1339.1.

This case chronicles the interdepartmental conflict and power struggle between New Haven mayor Frank Logue and Police Chief Biagio Dilieto and their subsequent battle as candidates in the Democratic primary for the mayor's office. Dilieto, a native New Havener, became the city's first Italian police chief in 1969 and had strong backing from New Haven's Italian community. When Logue took the mayoral office in 1976 and attempted to reform the police department, the two men clashed both privately and publicly through the press over issues of job appointment (which was historically a source of power for Dilieto), department restructuring, and police misconduct arbitration procedures. Amidst these disagreements, a wire-tapping operation by the police department against New Haven residents between 1966 and 1971 came to light and Dilieto was accused of and later admitted to his involvement. Under this backdrop, Dilieto decided to run for mayoral office against Logue with overwhelming support from the Italian community and the case concludes with the primary results. HKS Case Number 214.0