If I say "jihad" will the NSA pay attention to me?

Not that I want the NSA to turn its attentions in my direction.  Then again, I'm not sure that it makes any difference to me, whether one way or the other.  But, if they are spending gobs of time and effort and loads of money to read every American's electronically-written word, and to listen in on all of our telephone conversations, then you can see how that word might get their attention, can't you?

Jihad.  There; I said it again.  Let's see what happens now.

Well, so far. . .nothing.  Maybe later.

Perhaps the question should be:  If the NSA notices me, will somebody there take any interest in me?  The  most likely answer to that question would have to be "no."  My consolation is to tell myself that induced humility builds character.  Which causes me to realize that at this point in my life I seem to have accumulated an abundance of character.

The NSA is America's National Security Administration.  It's been around for a long time, having been established in the early 1950s.  For the most part, the NSA has done a pretty good job of keeping itself out of the news and away from the public consciousness.

Until now.

The NSA does lots of secret stuff, but there's nothing secret about the fact that it exists, and that it exists to spy on people.  In fact, the NSA has a slick web site that advertises itself in a reasonably up-front fashion.  A quick search through the web site reveals that the word "spy" is used in numerous background and historical articles, but it doesn't seem to turn up in anything like a mission statement.  Nonetheless, it's a spy agency; we all seem to agree on that.

With the name-brand recognition that the NSA has going for it, you might wonder what the current discombobulation is all about.  We're fretting about all the spying that they do, but we've always known about it, so what's the big deal?

Here's the setup

A few weeks ago a low-level contracted employee at the NSA by the name of Edward Snowden skipped town with a bag of tricks purloined from that critical part of the US Government.  He revealed to the world via press interviews that he had left the United States for Hong Kong and had in his possession evidence of extensive and hitherto unknown spying by the NSA on telephone conversations, emails and other electronic communications taking place among Americans.  For altruistic reasons, he declared, this evidence should be made public and shared with the world.

Predictably, shaking a hornet's nest makes for a lot of excitement.  Nobody likes being spied upon, and Americans are notoriously anxious about any indication that their government is sneaking around behind their backs--metaphorically and electronically speaking--to secretly learn what they are saying, thinking or doing.  The core issues are trust and privacy:  we don't trust the government to be in possession of personal things that we consider to be private.

In reality, of course, if we are to be totally honest with ourselves, we simply don't trust anybody--government or otherwise--to be in possession of any information about ourselves that we consider to be private, except when we unilaterally and/or capriciously choose otherwise.  Yes, we Americans are gloriously contradictory creatures, aren't we?

So, what are we to do with the NSA, and what are we to do with Mr. Snowden?

Here are some ideas.  Future revelations might eventually show these ideas to be either sound, or screwy, or both, but that's for then; here's what we have for now.

What should be done with the NSA?

Keep the NSA going; it's a vital piece of the nation's security apparatus.  To believe otherwise is to hold a distinctly non-pragmatic view of the nature of contemporary challenges to national security.

At the same time, it poses an internal threat.  That threat has caused an unsatisfied need for transparency of its operational scope, and that need must be met in order for Americans to trust what their government does on their behalf.  The result will have to be operational limitations.

This isn't likely to be straight-up in any way.  This is going to be unbelievably legalistic, which is the way it should be if we Americans are to continue to identify ourselves as a nation governed by the rule of law and not the rule of men (or women).  For example, clearly we don't want anybody--especially the government--to have unrestricted ability to listen to our telephone conversations, or to read our emails to each other.  So, there must be legal restrictions on those activities, but how are they to be described?  What will they look like?  We have to believe that any restrictions on these activities will end up being very complex. 

The process of getting to those limitations won't be quick, and it won't be easy.  After all, we've been spying on ourselves for centuries, so we have a lot of baggage to carry along.  If you think otherwise, then consider the American Revolution:  our own struggle for independence from the British mother country was supported by only about one third of the colonial population of the time; the other two thirds was evenly split between those who supported Crown and Parliament, and those who didn't care either way and just wanted to be left alone.  With the exception of those who wanted nothing to do with the politics or the war, each side spied on the other, as well as on those in the middle, too.

More recently, the Patriot Act has legally-enabled the NSA to do the things that we are now griping about.  We need a reconsideration of that Act.  It is law that is periodically renewed by Congress.  Only a few months ago some members of the Senate and the House were speaking up to challenge its most recent renewal, or at least to challenge its renewal without significant changes to curb certain authorities granted in the Act.  Those curbs were not implemented; perhaps they should have been made.

One more thing about the NSA:  they have a real big security hole in their operations that needs to be plugged, and plugged fast.  It's horrific to learn that an individual--low-level or high-level, it doesn't make any difference--could go to work in an NSA location and then easily copy files onto a flash drive without any oversight and simply walk out the door with the darn thing in his pocket. 

Speaking as a person who has been around Information Technology for his entire professional lifetime, I know that stealing electronic files can be prevented.  Sure, there will always be sneaky bastards who will want to cause problems, but the people in charge know this, and they also know how to hire sneaky anti-bastards as part of the security protocol.

What should be done with what's-his-name?

And what of Mr. Snowden?  Should he be called a hero or a bum?  How will his name be remembered?  Will anybody remember him after a year or two?

What should our government do with Mr. Snowden?

Before making that decision, let's consider a few things that haven't seen much public comment.

First, this guy is ethically-compromised.  To have the job and the security clearance that he had, Mr. Snowden must have stated his commitment to abide by all manner of secrecy and non-disclosure agreements.  He has broken that commitment.  It's hard to see that as an honorable act.  Maybe it's not impossible, but it's really hard to see the honor in this.

Next, let's ask the question "why?"  Mr. Snowden's self-proclaimed explanation is along the lines of "it's not right to live in a country where these things go on."  At this point, it's not clear just what "these things" are, since the initial allegations of unrestricted listening and reading by government agencies have apparently been proven false by NSA disclosures provided during Congressional testimony.  If those allegations are false, then we must conclude that Mr. Snowden knew them to be false from the beginning, since his knowledge of those activities was exhaustive, according to him.  If he lied about a core issue, then what of the remainder of his statements is believable?  Unless, of course, his knowledge was not as complete as claimed, in which case there's a whole different can of worms to be opened.

In any case, he is damaged goods to any future employer, because without full disclosure to explain his actions Mr. Snowden's trustworthiness will always be in question.  Somebody who has turned once will always be thought of as somebody who can turn again.  He is a smart man, so he must have figured this out ahead of time.  In so doing, he would reasonably devise some sort of supporting arrangement for himself as a type of compensation for likely future losses due to his "damaged goods" characteristic.  I would very much like to know what is the nature of that arrangement; wouldn't you, too?

And so, we do not know why Mr. Snowden has done what he has done, nor what he expects it to yield for him in the long run.  Not yet, anyway.

Finally, he has no protection from our "whistle-blower" laws, because he is not engaging in "whistle-blowing" activities.  Those laws would provide protection only if he is describing illegal activities; at this point, all things that he has described about NSA spying programs have been about legal undertakings.

Everybody is entitled to his or her own opinion, but there are lots of ways for a person in the United States of America to express opinions without breaking a commitment, stealing something of possibly great value and making off for a foreign land.

Perhaps some future bizarre turn of events will give this guy a lucky break and his actions will end up being classified as "opinions."  In the meantime, though, it seems that our government should pursue all relevant legal remedies against Mr. Snowden in a timely and energetic fashion.

All coins have two sides. . .and there are many coins

And, at the same time, the government needs to enact legal remedies against its own behavior so that Americans have enough trust in whatever spying is going on so that they will allow those things to continue.

In the meantime, there's a whole lot of other governing that needs doing, so resolving internal and external spying issues must not be all-consuming.  These are important issues, but other things are at least as important.

I'm still here. . .no sign of the NSA yet.

And the beat goes on.

Guantanamo Bay -- we can't win until the prison is closed

The goal of terrorists is to disrupt and destroy.  America is mistakenly giving its terrorist adversaries a tool to use in achieving that goal.  We are doing this by continuing to use the Navy base at Guantanamo Bay as a prison for a small--166 at last count--group of individuals whom the American public generally considers to be violent, dangerous and irredeemable terrorists.

Most of that group--the number is commonly reported as eighty-six--have already been cleared of being irredeemably violent and dangerous.  These clearances aren't politically partisan.  In fact, they are the result of work done by the current Administration of President Barack Obama, and also of similar actions carried out by the prior Administration of President George W. Bush.  The clearances are what passes for legal commitments in the murky legal world of the prison at the U.S.-occupied enclave of Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.  These eighty-six men are therefore in possession of what amounts to prison discharge papers that, when honored, will enable them to return to their countries of origin.

The United States has not honored these eighty-six commitments, and shows no intention of doing so in the foreseeable future.

The real terrorists--that is to say, the terrorists outside of Guantanamo Bay who have the ability and desire to harm America and its allies--know this, as do many millions of others living in the lands where the terrorists are active.  Most of those millions have no inclination to be terrorists themselves.  However, some will be sympathetic to the terrorist ideology, and a small percentage of those will be convinced by the terrorist recruiting message.  America's failure to honor these commitments provides the terrorists with an argument about American hostility, prejudice and bullying that they can use as a very effective recruiting tool.

A small percentage of millions works out to thousands, especially when viewed in the context of an ongoing conflict that is many years' in duration.  Continuing to incarcerate eighty-six whom we have already committed to discharge provides the terrorist organizations with a powerful tool that assists them in recruiting large numbers of eager, driven young men into their ranks.  We have kept eighty-six locked away, in exchange for inciting thousands more to perform dangerous, violent and deadly anti-American and anti-Western acts.

It's also true that the world at large is aware that the United States has not yet honored these commitments.  This global awareness has caused us to lose stature in our international relations, and will continue to do so until the matter is resolved.

What of the other eighty?  Well, that's a hard question to answer, because with the exception of a handful--about a half-dozen--those individuals have not been charged with any crime.  In a county as legalistic as the United States, that's incredible, isn't it?  But, in fact, even though they have all been in prison for years--five, at a minimum, and up to eleven years in some cases--no legal charges have been brought against them, and there are no efforts underway that will cause that situation to change.

As things stand now, these people understandably have no hope for themselves.  They know that there is no escape.  They know that they have no bargaining power.  They probably realize that any definitive legal status has been withheld from them.  Under those conditions, what hope could they have?

And so, an already overly-complex and overly-costly environment that the United States must manage is made even more complicated, troublesome and expensive as these prisoners seek to draw attention to themselves through desperate actions, such as the current hunger strike being conducted by at least half their number.

Once again, this is no secret to the rest of the world, and so it provides the terrorist recruiters with another very effective tool to use against us.

By the way, I wouldn't assume that the hunger strike is to be their last-ditch effort at gaining attention.  If this doesn't accomplish something for them, it's reasonable to believe that they will either repeat it at some future time, or engage in something else.

None of us knows if the individual motivations behind the hunger strike are meritorious or manipulative.  Most likely it's a blend.  Some might want nothing more than to focus enough attention on themselves so that they will be sent home.  Others have a cause to believe in, and they probably gain some comfort from knowing that the message of their individual hopelessness stokes the fires of emotion that will lead to eventual acts of retribution on behalf of their cause, performed by people whom the prisoners view as their proxies.

Are we demonstrating moral and ethical leadership to the rest of the world by preventing people from returning home when it has already been determined that they deserve to be in their homes?  Are we doing anything to enhance our security by providing terrorists with an effective recruiting message?  I think the answer to both questions is "no."

The harm that we are doing to ourselves goes beyond the consequences of the unintentional intellectual and emotional aid that we are making available to our terrorist enemies.  To the world, we present America as a nation governed by the rule of law, not by the arbitrary whims of individuals.  And yet, in prosecuting the latter stages of a conflict that has shaped our foreign policy for the first half of the 21st century, we have arbitrarily chosen to dictate that the due processes accorded by that rule of law do not, in fact, apply to those whom we have identified as our enemies and taken into custody.

If the tables were turned, and Americans were likewise imprisoned by another country, would we not demand that they be accorded the due process of law?  I believe that we would.  And, in fact, in every armed conflict of the past hundred years, we have done so.

There are all sorts of arguments to justify the continued use of the prison at Guantanamo Bay, and to justify the legal limbo of the status quo that such continued use imposes.  Most of the arguments cluster around two themes:  these are people who don't deserve the protection of the law because of the heinousness of their crimes, or because of their self-proclaimed nation-less status; and, these are people who are too dangerous to be released.

We make a mockery of ourselves and of our national institutions by saying that certain people do not deserve the protection of the law.  We Americans have spent more than two centuries telling the rest of the world that the United States is a shining example of the benefits of rule by law; the argument that certain people who are now forced to live under the authority of U.S. law are to be denied the benefit of that law is hypocritical.  It amounts to throwing over two hundred years' worth of legal advancement into one of history's trash heaps.

Furthermore, with all of the advanced scientific tools available today, such as DNA analysis and other methods of identifying an individual, their origins are known.  It is a legal and political fiction to maintain that any person has no national identity.

Protection of the law is a concept that is so enshrined in American history and culture that any argument against it is legally incompetent.  In all honesty and reality, such an argument is voiced only out of fear and insecurity.  But to succumb to fear is to begin the process of losing.

That's not what we want to do.  We have no good reason to be fearful of and insecure about an adversary whom we over-match in both numbers and wealth by hundreds of thousands to one.  Americans have built great things; what have the terrorists built?  Nothing; they only destroy.  We are big, they are small.  There is nothing to fear, because our accomplishments make us secure.

What about the assertion that these people pose an extraordinary danger to us?  There's probably some truth to that.  For security and safety reasons, that truth needs to be discovered, revealed and dealt with.  When that happens, the most likely result will be that we will be able to recognize that the threat posed by these few is far superseded by the threat posed by the ongoing recruitment efforts whose success is enhanced by the continuation of the Guantanamo environment.  But, it's hard to know these truths because these individuals are kept outside of the American legal system.

Which brings us to one of the most sordid parts of this whole story.

Why, you might ask, are they kept outside of the American legal system?  The most common argument for keeping them legally isolated is that providing these people with legal due process would be either dangerous or futile, and probably both.  Dangerous because the setting of an open court would provide a public pulpit for terrorist exhortations.  Futile because the evidence against them is of such extraordinary nature due to its terrorism context that it cannot be properly adjudicated.

The first argument is nonsense.  After all, the terrorist message is already public, and the legal nether-world environment of Guantanamo Bay incarceration only serves to amplify that message.  As I've described earlier in this writing, that's a benefit to those who would harm us; we gain nothing from it.

The second argument is worse.  It's an argument that has been corrupted by our own actions.  The truth is--and we all know this--the extraordinary nature of the evidence is that it is tainted by torture.  In that condition, it might not be admitted into a court of law in this country, nor in any other country in the world in which anybody would want cases like these to be tried.

And that taint of torture is irrevocably linked to Guantanamo.  In our own self-interest, if for no other reason, the sooner we can put that linkage behind us, the better we will be.  This is the pragmatic part of the argument for closing Guantanamo.  As long as Guantanamo remains open as it is, the relations that the United States has with the rest of the world will continue to suffer from a real-time, continuing example of the dual failings of torturing prisoners, and of abrogating the rule of law.

There's an economic dimension to this, too.  American's adherence to rule of law has always been a major factor behind the attractiveness of the United States for foreign investment, and it has immeasurably aided the success of American enterprises in conducting business all over the world.  We will be giving up at least a portion of that commercially-competitive advantage if we are seen to be making exceptions to those laws in arbitrary ways.

Why would that be so?  Because it's a matter of trust, and of the destruction of trust.  The rest of the world has always trusted us to be consistent in our use of the rule of law; now, we begin to introduce inconsistency.  Inconsistency chips away at an image of trustworthiness.

Certainly, there are differences between the legal underpinnings of dealing with terrorism, and those of buying and selling widgets.  But, once an exception is made, who is to say that such an action is a beginning or an end?

Finally--and least convincingly for me, although perhaps not for all--for the austerity proponents among us, here's something else to consider:  maintaining a separate, off-shore, highly complex facility for a relatively small number of inmates has got to be enormously more expensive than any other conceivable alternative.

The big picture of all of this is that we have a terrorist enemy whose motivation is a cause.  As such, it is composed more of ideas, and less of tangible things.  After eleven years and more of a security strategy based on the use of far-away armed conflict, we know that this strategy has not produced a quick and decisive victory.  So, what do we do now?

The adversary must be confronted, but for our success the confrontation must be done on the battlefield that we have created through our accomplishments.  Our legal system is the foundation upon which all this has been built.  It's there to be used for building more accomplishments.  Using it openly, and publicly exhibiting its encompassing virtues that can equally treat any person at any time in any place within its reach, will support our national image of global leadership and of being a long-term winner.  When honorably wielded as the ultimate weapons that they are, our ideas will prevail; their ideas will fail. That's our best strategy.

All told now, I can't see any good reason to keep Guantanamo open, and I see plenty of good reasons to shut it down as soon as possible.