How
to Be a Rogue Superpower
A
Manual for the Twenty-First Century
By
Tom Engelhardt
16
July, 2013
It’s
hard even to know how to take it in. I mean, what’s really
happening? An employee of a private contractor working for the
National Security Agency makes off with unknown numbers of files
about America’s developing global
security state on
a thumb
drive and four
laptop computers,
and jumps the nearest plane to Hong Kong. His goal: to expose a
vast surveillance structure built in the shadows in the post-9/11
years and significantly aimed at Americans. He leaks some of
the documents to a columnist at
the British Guardian and
to the Washington
Post.
The response is unprecedented: an “international
manhunt”
(or more politely but less accurately, “a
diplomatic full court press”)
conducted not by Interpol or the United Nations but by the planet’s
sole superpower, the very government whose practices the leaker was
so intent on exposing.
And
that’s just for starters. Let’s add another factor.
The leaker, a young man with great techno-savvy, lets the world know
that he’s picked and chosen among the NSA files in his possession.
He’s releasing only those he thinks the American public needs in
order to start a full-scale debate about the unprecedented secret
world of surveillance that their taxpayer dollars have created.
In other words, this is no “document dump.” He wants to
spark change without
doing harm.
But
here’s the kicker: he couldn’t
be more aware of
previous whistleblower cases, the punitive reaction of his government
to them, and the fate that might be his. As a result, we now
know, he has encrypted the
full set of files in his possession and left them in one or more safe
places for unknown individuals -- that is, we don’t know who they
are -- to access, should he be taken by the U.S.
In
other words, from the time Edward Snowden’s first leaked documents
came out, it was obvious that he was in control of how much of the
NSA’s secret world would be seen. It would be hard then not
to conclude that capturing him, imprisoning him, trying him, and
throwing away the key is likely to increase,
not decrease, the flow of those documents. Knowing that, the
Obama administration and the representatives of our secret world went
after him anyway -- after one man on a global scale and in a way that
may not have a precedent. No thought of future embarrassment
stopped them, nor, it seems, did they hesitate because of possible
resentments engendered by their heavy-handed pressure on numerous
foreign governments.
The
result has been a global spectacle, as well as a worldwide debate
about the spying practices of the U.S. (and its allies).
In these weeks, Washington has proven determined, vengeful,
implacable. It has strong-armed, threatened, and elbowed powers
large and small. It has essentially pledged that the leaker,
former Booz Allen employee Edward Snowden, will never be safe on this
planet in his lifetime. And yet, to mention the obvious, the greatest
power on Earth has, as yet, failed to get its man and is losing the
public opinion battle globally.
An
Asylum-less World
Highlighted
in all this has been a curious fact of our twenty-first-century
world. In the Cold War years, asylum was always potentially
available. If you opposed one of the two superpowers or its
allies, the other was usually ready to open its arms to you, as the
U.S. famously did for what were once called “Soviet dissidents”
in great numbers. The Soviets did the same for Americans,
Brits, and others, often secret communists, sometimes actual spies,
who opposed the leading capitalist power and its global order.
Today,
if you are a twenty-first-century “dissident”
and need asylum/protection from the only superpower left, there is
essentially none to be had. Even after three
Latin American countries,
enraged at Washington's actions,
extended offers of protection to Snowden, these should be treated as
a new category of limited asylum. After all, the greatest power
on the planet has, since 9/11, shown itself perfectly willing to do
almost anything in pursuit of its definition of “security” or the
security of its security system. Torture,
abuse,
the setting up of secret prisons or “black
sites,”
the kidnapping
of terrorist suspects (including perfectly
innocent people)
off the streets of global cities and in the backlands of the planet,
as well as their “rendition” to the torture chambers of complicit
allied regimes, and the secret surveillance of anyone anywhere would
only start a far longer list.
Nothing
about the “international manhunt” for Snowden indicates that the
Obama administration would be unwilling to send in the CIA or special
operations types to “render” him from Venezuela, Bolivia, or
Nicaragua, no matter the cost to hemispheric relations. Snowden
himself brought up this possibility in his first interview with
Guardian
columnist Glenn Greenwald. “I could,” he
said bluntly,
“be rendered by the CIA.” This assumes that he can even make it
to a land of exile from somewhere in the bowels of the international
terminal of Moscow's Sheremetyevo airport without being intercepted
by Washington.
It’s
true that there remain some modest limits on the actions even of a
rogue superpower. It’s hard to imagine Washington dropping
its kidnappers into Russia or China to take Snowden, which is perhaps
why it has put such pressure on both countries to turn him in or
hustle him along. With smaller, weaker lands, however,
non-nuclear allies or enemies or frenemies, don’t doubt the
possibility for a second.
If
Edward Snowden is proving one thing, it’s this: in 2013, Planet
Earth isn’t big enough to protect the American version of
“dissidents.”
Instead, it looks ever more like a giant prison with a single
implacable policeman, judge, jury, and jailer.
Deterrence
Theory the Second Time Around
In
the Cold War years, the two nuclear-armed superpowers practiced what
was called “deterrence theory,” or more aptly MAD,
short for “mutually assured destruction.” Think of it as
the particularly grim underside of what might have been but wasn’t
called MAA (mutually assured asylum). The knowledge that no
nuclear first strike by one superpower could succeed in preventing
the other from striking back with overwhelming force, destroying them
both (and possibly the planet) seemed, however
barely,
to hold their enmity and weaponry at bay. It forced them to
fight their wars, often by proxy, on the global frontiers of empire.
Now,
with but one superpower left, another kind of deterrence theory has
come into play. Crucial to our era is the ongoing creation of
the first global surveillance state. In the Obama years, the
sole superpower has put special effort into deterring anyone in its
labyrinthine
bureaucracy
who shows a desire to let us know what “our” government is doing
in our name.
The
Obama administration’s efforts to stop whistleblowers are becoming
legendary. It has launched an unprecedented
program
to specially train millions of employees and contractors to profile
coworkers for “indicators of insider threat behavior.” They are
being encouraged to inform on any “high-risk persons” they
suspect might be planning to go public. Administration
officials have also put much
punitive energy
into making examples out of whistleblowers who have tried to reveal
anything of the inner workings of the national security complex.
In
this way, the Obama administration has more
than doubled
the total whistleblower prosecutions of all previous administrations
combined under the draconian World War I-era Espionage Act. It
has also gone after Army
Private Bradley Manning
for releasing secret military and State Department files to
WikiLeaks, not only attempting to put him away for life for “aiding
the enemy,”
but subjecting him to particularly vindictive and abusive
treatment
while in military prison. In addition, it has threatened
journalists
who have written on or published leaked material and gone on
expeditions into the telephone
and email
records
of major media organizations.
All
of this adds up to a new version of deterrence thinking in which a
potential whistleblower should know that he or she will experience a
lifetime of suffering for leaking anything; in which those, even in
the highest reaches
of government, who consider speaking to journalists on classified
subjects should know that their calls could be monitored and their
whispers criminalized; and in which the media should know that
reporting on such subjects is not a healthy activity.
This sort of deterrence already seemed increasingly extreme in nature; the response to Snowden's revelations took it to a new level. Though the U.S. government pursued WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange abroad (while reportedly preparing to indict him at home), the other whistleblower cases might all be considered national security ones. The manhunt against Snowden is something new. Through it, Washington is now punitively expanding twenty-first century deterrence theory to the world.
The
message is this: nowhere will you be safe from us if you breach U.S.
secrecy. Snowden’s will surely be a case study in how far the
new global security state is willing to go. And the answer is
already in: far indeed. We just don’t yet know exactly how
far.
How
to Down a Plane to (Not) Catch a Whistleblower
In
this light, no incident has been more revealing than the downing
of the plane of Bolivian President Evo Morales, the democratically
elected head of a sovereign Latin American nation, and not an
official enemy of the United States. Angry Bolivian authorities
termed it a "kidnapping"
or "imperialist
hijack."
It was, at the least, an act for which it’s hard to imagine a
precedent.
Evidently
officials in Washington believed that the plane bringing the Bolivian
president back from Moscow was also carrying Snowden. As a
result, the U.S. seems to have put enough pressure on four European
countries (France, Spain, Portugal, and Italy) to force that plane to
land for refueling in a fifth country (Austria). There --
again, U.S. pressure seems
to have been
the crucial factor -- it was searched under disputed
circumstances
and Snowden not found.
So
much is not known about what happened, in part because there has been
no serious reporting from Washington on the subject. The U.S.
media has largely ignored the American role in the downing of the
plane, an incident regularly described here as if the obvious hadn’t
happened. This may, at least in part, be the result of the
Obama administration’s implacable pursuit of whistleblowers and
leakers right into the phone records of reporters. The
government has made such a point of its willingness to pursue
whistleblowers via journalists that, as Associated Press President
Gary Pruitt recently pointed
out,
national security sources are drying up. Key figures in
Washington are scared to talk even off the record (now that “off”
turns out to be potentially very “on”). And the Justice
Department’s new "tighter"
guildelines
for accessing reporters’ records are clearly filled with loopholes
and undoubtedly little more than window dressing.
Still,
it’s reasonable to imagine that when Morales's plane took off from
Moscow there were top U.S. officials gathered in a situation room (Ã
la
the bin Laden affair), that the president was in the loop, and that
the intelligence people said something like: we have an 85% certainty
that Snowden is on that plane. Obviously, the decision was made
to bring it down and enough pressure was placed on key officials in
those five countries to cause them to bow to Washington's will.
One
can certainly imagine that, but know it? At the moment, not a
chance and, unlike in the raid that killed bin Laden, a triumphant
situation-room photo
hasn't been released, since there was, of course, no triumph.
Many questions arise. Why, to mention just one, did Washington
not allow Morales’s plane to land for refueling
in Portugal,
as originally planned, and simply strong-arm the Portuguese into
searching it? As with so much else, we don’t know.
We
only know that, to bring five countries into line that way, the
pressure from Washington (or its local representatives) must have
been intense. Put another way: key officials in those countries
must have realized quickly that they stood in the way of a truly
powerful urge by the planet's superpower to get one fugitive.
It was an urge so strong that it overrode any other tactical
considerations, and so opened the way for Venezuela, Bolivia, and
Nicaragua to offer asylum to Snowden with the support
of much of the rest of Latin America.
Imagine
for a moment that an American president’s plane had been brought
down in a similar fashion. Imagine that a consortium of nations
pressured by, say, China or Russia, did it and that, with the
president aboard, it was then searched for a Chinese or Soviet
“dissident.” Imagine the reaction here. Imagine the
shock. Imagine the accusations of “illegality,” of
"skyjacking," of “international terrorism.”
Imagine the 24/7 media coverage. Imagine the information
pouring out of Washington about what would no doubt have been termed
"an act of war."
Of
course, such a scenario is inconceivable on this one-way planet.
So instead, just think about the silence here over the Morales
incident, the lack of coverage, the lack of reporting, the lack of
outrage, the lack of shock, the lack of... well, just about anything
at all.
Instead,
the twenty-first-century version of deterrence theory ruled the day,
even though Snowden is the proof that deterrence via manhunts,
prosecution, imprisonment, and the like has proven ineffective when
it comes to leaks. It’s worth pointing out that what may be
the two largest leaks of official documents in history -- Bradley
Manning’s and Snowden’s -- happened in a country increasingly
under the sway of deterrence theory.
Slouching
Toward Washington to Be Born
And
yet don’t think that no one has been affected, no one intimidated.
Consider, for instance, a superior piece of recent reporting by Eric
Lichtblau of the New
York Times.
His front-page story, “In
Secret, Court Vastly Broadens Powers of NSA,”
might once have sent shock waves through Washington and perhaps the
country as well. It did, after all, reveal how, in “more than
a dozen classified rulings,” a secret FISA court, which oversees
the American surveillance state, “has created a secret body of law”
giving the NSA sweeping new powers.
Here’s
the paragraph that should have had Americans jumping out of their
skins (my italics added): “The 11-member Foreign Intelligence
Surveillance Court, known as the FISA court, was once mostly focused
on approving case-by-case wiretapping orders. But since major changes
in legislation and greater judicial oversight of intelligence
operations were instituted six years ago, it
has quietly become almost a parallel Supreme Court,
serving as the ultimate arbiter on surveillance issues and delivering
opinions that will most likely shape intelligence practices for years
to come, the officials said.”
At
most moments in American history, the revelation that such a secret
court, which never
turns down
government requests, is making law “almost” at the level of the
Supreme Court would surely have caused an outcry in Congress and
elsewhere. However, there was none, a sign either of how
powerful and intimidating the secret world has become or of how much
Congress and the rest of Washington have already been absorbed into
it.
No
less strikingly -- and again, we know so little that it’s necessary
to read between the lines -- Lichtblau indicates that more than six
“current and former national security officials,” perhaps
disturbed by the expanding powers of the FISA court, discussed its
classified rulings "on the condition of anonymity.”
Assumedly, at least one of them (or someone else) leaked the
classified information about that court to him.
Fittingly
enough, Lichtblau wrote a remarkably anonymous piece. Given
that sources no longer have any assurance that phone and email
records aren’t being or won't be monitored, we have no idea how
these shadowy figures got in touch with him or vice versa. All
we know is that, even when shining a powerful light into the darkness
of the surveillance universe, American journalism now finds itself
plunging into the shadows as well.
What
both the Morales incident and the Lichtblau article tell us, and what
we’ve barely taken in, is how our American world is changing.
In the Cold War years, faced with a MAD world, both superpowers
ventured “into the shadows” to duke it out in their global
struggle. As in so many wars, sooner or later the methods used
in distant lands came home to haunt us. In the twenty-first
century, without another major power in sight, the remaining
superpower has made those “shadows” its own in a big way.
Just beyond the view of the rest of us, it began recreating its famed
tripartite, checks-and-balances government, now more than two
centuries old, in a new form. There, in those shadows, the
executive, judicial, and legislative branches began to meld into a
unicameral shadow government, part of a new architecture of control
that has nothing to do with “of the people, by the people, for the
people.”
Such
a shadow government placing its trust in secret courts and the
large-scale surveillance of populations, its own included, while
pursuing its secret desires globally was just the sort of thing that
the country’s founding fathers feared. In the end, it hardly
matters under what label -- including American “safety” and
“security” -- such a governing power is built; sooner or later,
the architecture will determine the acts, and it will become more
tyrannical at home and more extreme abroad. Welcome to the
world of the single rogue superpower, and thank your lucky stars that
Edward Snowden made the choices he did.
It’s
eerie that some aspects of the totalitarian governments that went
down for the count in the twentieth century are now being recreated
in those shadows. There, an increasingly “totalistic” if
not yet totalitarian beast, its hour come round at last, is slouching
toward Washington to be born, while those who cared to shine a little
light on the birth process are in jail or being hounded across this
planet.
We
have now experienced deterrence theory in two centuries. Once
it was brought to bear to stop the wholesale destruction of the
planet; once -- and they do say
that if the first time is tragedy, the second is farce -- to deter a
small number of whistleblowers from revealing the innards of our new
global
security state.
We came close enough to total tragedy once. If only we could be
assured that the second time around it would indeed be total farce,
but at the moment, as far as I can tell, no one’s laughing.
Tom
Engelhardt, co-founder of the American
Empire Project
and author of The
United States of Fear
as well as a history of the Cold War, The
End of Victory Culture
(just
published in a Kindle
edition),
runs the Nation Institute's TomDispatch.com.
His latest book, co-authored with Nick Turse, is Terminator
Planet: The First History of Drone Warfare, 2001-2050.
[Note:
Special thanks go to Irena Gross who sparked my thinking about
American "dissidents" and this prison planet of ours.]
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