Dick Cheney, the avatar of the nonexistent threat of weapons of mass destruction, hastened onto the public stage to blast the President for endangering the national security. Obama’s crime? Releasing memos depicting waterboarding and other techniques borrowed from enemies like the Communist Chinese. It wasn’t Cheney’s first assault on Obama, but it captured singular attention because Cheney plainly was the Bush Administration’s driving force in this wholesale violation of national and international law.

From a Democratic perspective, the emergence of Cheney as the face of the Republican Party is a consummation devoutly to be wished. GOP strategists generally yearn to see Cheney just go away; the last thing they want is for Americans to see the former Vice-President, an antonym for public appeal, become a synonym for their party.

On the merits, Cheney doesn’t even argue half the case—whether torture is wrong in principle, wrong legally, or wrong for American foreign policy. Instead he insists that it worked to some unspecified extent. Secretary of State Clinton pungently understated the obvious when she dismissed him as not “a particularly reliable source.” In fact, last year FBI Director Robert Mueller, a Bush holdover, was asked by an interviewer whether any attacks had been foiled by what Cheney and his acolytes whitewashed as “enhanced interrogation techniques.” Mueller was “reluctant to answer,” but then conceded: “I don’t believe that has been the case.” As early as 2002, a Pentagon study warned that torture would elicit “unreliable information.”

So what can torture’s apologists claim? For a while, their prime example was a plot to crash a plane into the tallest building in downtown Los Angeles. They pointed to information supposedly coerced from Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, a top al Qaida operative, who we now know was waterboarded 183 times. It’s a scenario right out of the television show “24”; appropriately it’s also fictional. The plot was derailed in 2002; KSM, as government memos refer to the Sheikh, wasn’t even captured until 2003.

Cheney, seldom daunted by the inconvenient truth, is now demanding the selective declassification of two documents allegedly “proving” the effectiveness of torture—although, of course, he refuses to call it that. (Imagine hoping to be remembered in history as the “waterboarding Vice-President.”) The difficulty, as Bush State Department Counselor Philip Zelikow points out, is that the release of these documents “would only raise questions that would have to be answered with still more disclosures.”