Superintendent of spies

WHEN FORMER Maryland State Police Superintendent Thomas "Tim" Hutchins approached the lectern at a state senate committee's hearings into the police spying scandal that took place under his watch, he was following an array of statewide figures who had already condemned police intrusion on the rights of anti-death penalty and antiwar protesters.

As one of the subjects of the spying campaign, I traveled to Annapolis to attend the hearing along with a dozen other spied-upon activists. The surveillance operation was unearthed last July when an ACLU lawsuit filed on behalf of antiwar activists unearthed documents detailing what happened.

The hearing was called by state Sen. Brian Frosh, chair of the senate's Judicial Proceedings Committee, in response to an outpouring of anger over the revelations.

Days before, the governor's office released former state Attorney General Steve Sachs' "review" of the 14-month spying operation, which took place in 2005 and 2006. Sachs' testimony at the hearing echoed his findings that police were completely unjustified in their surveillance of anti-death penalty and antiwar activists, and that no evidence or information of any kind existed to indicate the subjects of the spying had committed or planned to commit any crimes.

Sachs showed the kind of deference and generosity towards the Maryland State Police that one would expect from the state's former top prosecutor. He described the motives of the police as "better safe than sorry" and suggested a weak set of reforms.

But Sachs didn't mince words about the "lack of judgment" shown by the state cops and the dangerous nature of their intrusion on civil liberties. Sachs' status as a consummate political insider made his stinging rebuke of police conduct difficult for authorities to ignore.

The current police Superintendent, Col. Terrence B. Sheridan, followed Sachs. Sheridan made an effort to distance himself from the operation by pointing out that the surveillance revealed by the ACLU and Sachs' report preceded his appointment. He insisted that no such spying was currently underway.

Functioning as a public-relations man, his testimony was full of useless assurances, contradictions and creepy overtones. Sheridan told listeners that the police didn't consider protesters to be genuine terrorists, but then revealed that at least 53 people and an undisclosed number of groups had been listed in an interagency database under the such categories as "terrorist: anti-death penalty" and "terrorist: antiwar."

Sheridan said these people and groups did not belong in terror-tracking databases, and that state police had begun sending letters to people on the list inviting them to review their files. As he told one senator, "We have ways of finding where these people live." As it turns out, the letters that Sheridan mentioned inform activists that they won't be given paper copies of their files or be allowed to have an attorney present, and that their files will be destroyed after review.

Finally, Sheridan was happy to report that the state police had already enacted the set of reforms suggested by Sachs. So, by implication, no further action was necessary.

THE STAGE was thus set for Tim Hutchins. Hutchins was ex-Republican Gov. Robert Ehrlich's handpicked man to head the Maryland State Police, and was the man in charge when the spying operation took place. A right-wing ex-legislator who adamantly supported the death penalty while in office, Hutchins had refused to be interviewed by Steve Sachs.

Hutchins did not disappoint. His testimony was a museum-quality piece of institutional arrogance.

He started off justifying his refusal to speak to Sachs by waxing on about the Senate being the only "appropriate" (i.e. harmless) forum to discuss his conduct. Continuing on in a style that was as self-important as it was rambling, Hutchins mentioned that he had ancestors who fought in the War for Independence. He said he had to work overtime during the first year after taking over the state's largest police agency. And less anyone forget, Hutchins went on about his deep respect for constitutionally guaranteed freedoms.

Then--as both spectators and senators listened, slack-jawed--Hutchins stated that no "spying" had, in fact, taken place.

How so? According to Hutchins, "spying" is something that the KGB does. By contrast, Maryland police were simply attending public meetings in an undercover capacity, taking down names, and entering those names on reports and in federal inter-agency databases.

Nothing to do with spying, right?

Hutchins then said that if any spying had taken place, it was completely justified because of concerns among authorities that peaceful anti-death penalty activists might turn violent. Needless to say, the irony of his concern about possible violent protesters, while the state straps prisoners to gurneys and kills them escaped Hutchins.

Finally, Hutchins defended the actions of state police because protesters are "fringe" people who need to be monitored.

After that, Hutchins entertained a few stunned questioners and left. In the wake of his appearance, it was a relief to hear ACLU staff attorney David Rocah and ex-FBI man Mike German testify that, yes, spying had taken place and the actions of police were a dangerous infringement on the civil liberties of everyone.

As it turns out, Hutchins' performance did more to strengthen the hand of those who seek some limits on the powers of police to conduct surveillance. In the wake of his testimony, TV commentator Keith Olbermann added Hutchins to his list of "worst people in the world," and the New York Times called the police "knuckleheaded" and condemned their abuse of power. In addition, momentum is growing in the Maryland General Assembly for reforms that will limit the hand of police in undertaking future spy operations.

When it comes to being on the "fringe" of acceptable conduct, Hutchins is the one who needs to be monitored.