Here is a person who's never had a serious thought about politics or the operations of power. The analysis is as superficial as anything on the cable news. It locates no precedents. It offers no examples. Societies are at some point good, and then they "go over to the dark side." Government is "leashing the beast within." (Hobbes, circa that dude in Intro to Continental Philosophy, Oberlin College, 1999.) It's all a lot of strange, Arcadian nonsense. It's in vein with the liberal anti-torture argument that goes: In World War II, we didn't torture the Nazis. True, mostly. Then again, in World War II:

For the most part, it's just wrong to idealize states as moral agents. This isn't to say that the actions states take lack moral content or moral import. Torture is wrong. Yet it isn't specifically wrong for America to torture. The idea that "we"--meaning America--don't torture is entirely hollow, a comforting but meaningless nostrum. In the first place, we do torture; at least, the agents of our state torture. In the second place, all states torture, just as they kill, bribe, starve, besiege, regulate, investigate, survey, record, and otherwise violate every principle of individual moral and legal conduct. The liberal will argue that in the properly functioning, liberal democratic state, violations of rights aren't arbitrary, but rather bound up by law and tradition, and that danger comes when some villain like George Bush arrogates himself of the right to act "unilaterally" and by executive whim. But the truth is that those limits are all defined by the very entity that they are meant to constrain, which holds as a fundamental principle that it has the right to violate them in war, or in time of emergency, or to "fight" crime, or for a thousand other reasons.
The problem with locating in "America"--more particularly some reified idea of the American character--the prohibition on torture is that it imputes moral agency to a fundamentally amoral actor. No matter how many hoary, medieval body politic metaphors one dredges up from half-remembered civics courses, no matter how much one wants to locate the soul of a civilization in the principles of its government head, the truth is that virtue rests in the individual, not in the state, the government, the national mood, or the national myth. It is true that America is nominally democratic, structurally a republic. These are held to be exceptionalisms of a moral sort. Why? America has launched wars of aggression and territorial expansion, practiced genocide, held human chattel, segregated its own society, tortured. America is neither uniquely good nor uniquely bad; it is a state like any other. Appealing to some losing, lost America in order to protest torture is mere political theater. But Digby is a partisan, so that is precisely the point.