Death to spies? Oh, please. The Brits, who invented modern
espionage, are now hilariously leading the Western media
mentionables into the latest scandal: the electronic eavesdropping
on Kofi Annan in the left’s Holy of Holies, the UN. Clare Short —
Paul O’Neill in drag — served as minister for post-it notes and
paper clips in Blair’s government before indulging her ego by
resigning in protest against the Iraq war. Last week she spilled
some highly classified information by telling Parliament that
whilst a member of Mr. Blair’s cabinet she’d been privy to
transcripts of Annan’s private conversations during the UN’s Iraq
debates. The Beeb and CBS had a severe case of the vapors, and His
Excellency the Secretary General lectured us peons about the
illegality of such spying, and the mistreatment of diplomats.
I’m shocked, shocked to find espionage at the UN. (“Pardon me,
Mr. Babbin,” said the young analyst. “Here’s the latest set of
transcripts from the French ambassador’s cell phone. He was placing
an order for more nuclear centrifuge parts for Iran.”) Now, where
was I?
Ambassador Richard Butler — who led the Iraq WMD inspection
teams until Kofi sold him down the river in 1998 — was asked if he
was aware that his office might have been bugged. “Of course I was
bugged,” said he. By at least four of the Security Council members,
he added. “I was well aware of it. How did I know? Because those
who did it would come to me and show me the recordings that they
made on others to help me do my job of disarming Iraq.”
For the briefest while, during Butler’s tenure, a flare of
reality burst over the Third World rabble of the UN. Now Butler and
reality are gone but the espionage remains, as it bloody well
should. Ask yourself: Why is Hans Blix declining to comment on the
probable interception of his cell phone transmissions in Iraq?
Maybe his silence at the report that the Aussies were bugging him
may mean that he’s more concerned with the publication of what he
said to his pals Saddam and Tariq than he was about the
bugging.
We bug them, they bug us, and everyone has a grand old time
trying to counter the last counter-move from the other guys, and
deciphering the meaning of whatever their spies manage to get. It’s
bidness as usual. Which it is in all our intelligence agencies,
with the exception of the Defense Department’s. When the CIA was
doing its job in Afghanistan — relatively well, but clearly not up
to the challenge — Defense formed its own apparatus under a new
undersecretary for intel. But that is only one step in a process
that has to be broader, and quicker. What to do?
I HAD TO CONSULT WITH my dear friend, the late Sidney Reilly. You
may remember Sidney, who was called the “Ace of Spies.” To summon
Sidney, all I have to do is pour a generous portion of single malt,
light a good cigar, and recite his favorite part of Kipling’s
“Spies March”:
Trained to another use,
We march with colors furled,
Only concerned when Death breaks loose
On a front of half a world
Only for General Death
The Yellow Flag may fly
While we take post beneath
That is the place for a spy
Where Plague has spread his pinions
Over Nations and Dominions
Then will be work for a spy!
“So, Jed, we haven’t spoken in quite a while,” said the always
meticulously groomed Mr. Reilly.
“My apologies, Sidney. I’ve been busy writing a book and have
neglected many friends.”
“It’s no problem, really. I’ve been quite busy watching the
CIA’s descent into madness and fending off your Mr. Stimson, that
Secretary of State of yours who said, ‘Gentlemen don’t read each
others’ mail.’ He’s anxious to recant that silliness, but he
doesn’t have a friend to talk to. Would you speak with him?”
“I did, a while back. He’s a bore. What about the spying on the
UN?”
Reilly smiled. “There are few places easier and better to spy
than the UN. It’s a gabbling gaggle of diplomats, each trying to
make political points and hide his own country’s intentions. About
half of them don’t even guard their communications. If the CIA and
MI-6 weren’t spying on them, they wouldn’t be doing their jobs.
Were I you, I’d be more concerned about Paul O’Neill and Clare
Short.”
“Sidney, you’re pulling my leg again. Neither is more than a
clown. What danger are they?”
“Neither is a danger any longer, because they will never again
be privy to classified information. But you need to be more careful
in selecting your ministers. You Americans even give highly
classified information to your Congress. Like that fellow who
leaked the fact that your people were monitoring bin Laden’s cell
phone. What was his name?”
“Well, we don’t speak of that publicly, but the CIA is pretty
sure it was Senator Shelby. I agree we need to keep better tabs on
the Congress and the Cabinet. But what else should we be
doing?”
“Strange you’d ask just now. I was sitting around with our
little group when you called. You know, the regulars: Francis
Walsingham, Allen Dulles, and Reinhard Gehlen. We all agreed there
were a few things you have to do immediately.”
I raised an eyebrow, and Reilly continued. “First, you have to
get rid of Tenet. President Bush’s loyalty to his people is
admirable, but only as long as they perform well and are loyal in
return. Tenet fails both tests. Next, you need to integrate the CIA
with the NSA, the DIA, and all the other intelligence agencies,
including the FBI and the intelligence arm of the State Department.
To do that, you need to lift the legal barriers to their all
operating together, not just sharing information.”
“But that would mean the CIA would have spies working actively
inside the United States.”
“As your sons would say, ‘yeah, so?’ Are you serious about
stopping terrorists before they strike again or not? If you are,
you have to be serious about reforming how the intelligence
agencies operate. Rearranging the deck chairs on the
Titanic like Senator Kerry wants to do won’t change a
bloody thing.”
“Hmm. I see what you mean, I think. But we’d have to get over
the objections of all the civil libertarians.” Reilly started
tapping the arm of his chair. His patience was wearing thin.
“Jed, Jed, Jed. I thought you were a serious man. You don’t need
to remove the Constitutional barriers to search and seizure to do
this the right way. You needn’t reduce your citizens’ inalienable
rights, and your courts and Congress will still be there to protect
those rights. When you force the joint operation, you must put
someone on top of these combined agencies who can actually lead
them. How about Paul Wolfowitz?”
“Sidney, I’m sure Wolfowitz would rather slash his wrists than
take that job. The same goes for General Myers, who I’d choose if
Wolfowitz turned the job down. What else should we be doing?”
“Sorry, old man. I need to go. My new lady friend is waiting for
me.” He smiled broadly. “Don’t ask. All I’m going to tell you is
that Ingrid Bergman looks as good now as she did in
Casablanca.”
With that Reilly faded away, though his grin lingered in the air
for a long time.
TAS Contributing editor Jed Babbin was a deputy
undersecretary of defense in the first Bush administration, and now
often appears as a talking warhead on radio and
television.
