Anne Applebaum: Up to their old spy tricks again
[Anne Applebaum is a columnist at The Washington Post.]
Along with many other things, the spy novel did not survive the end of the Cold War. There are still thrillers, of course, but it isn't the same: James Bond has become just another action hero, and John Le Carre had turned into yet another British writer who doesn't like George Bush. When communism collapsed, the dead-letter drops, the invisible ink and the microfilm concealed in hollowed-out pumpkins mostly disappeared from fiction, too.
Yet these things have not, it seems, disappeared from real life. This week the FBI arrested 10 people -- an 11th was detained in Cyprus, given bail and vanished -- who stand accused of working as "illegals" on behalf of the Russian government. Like the Kevin Costner character in the movie "No Way Out," several of them are Russians (as the Russian government has confirmed) who have lived in the United States for many years, slowly acquiring American identities. Although they kept in regular touch with their Russian bosses -- "Moscow Center" -- they have American university degrees, American professions and American children.
They also have American friends. One of these friends may have been Alan Patricof, a Democratic fundraiser and friend of the Clintons. Patricof had occasional conversations with a tax expert, Cynthia Murphy, with whom he discussed . . . . taxes. After one of these chats, an excited Murphy -- a Columbia Business School graduate with an unidentifiable accent -- told Moscow Center she had made contact with a "prominent New York-based financier." Moscow Center, equally excited, told her, according to a federal complaint, to listen carefully for his "remarks re US foreign policy," as well as "roumors" [sic] from the White House "kitchen."
Which leads us to the central mystery: Why on earth would the Russian government spend years of its time and millions of its dollars on the education, upkeep and housing of a spy who might someday be able to collect some rumors from a Democratic fundraiser and friend of the Clintons? There must be several thousand people who fit that description in New York alone, and I bet not one of them knows a single piece of information that cannot also be found somewhere on the Internet. Rumors, White House gossip, foreign policy tidbits -- these are things you can find on the Web sites of The Post, the Brookings Institution and several dozen other institutions, all of whose blogs and articles can be thoroughly examined from an armchair in Moscow.
Explanations have been offered for the apparent cluelessness of these illegals. Maybe they were "sleepers," agents living under deep cover because they might someday be useful. Perhaps they were "talent scouts" whose job was to identify others with greater potential. Or perhaps they were couriers who carried cash and information on behalf of more senior figures.
My guess is different: I think the instructions they were given reflect the mentality of the current Russian elite, many of whose members were once members of the KGB...
Read entire article at WaPo
Along with many other things, the spy novel did not survive the end of the Cold War. There are still thrillers, of course, but it isn't the same: James Bond has become just another action hero, and John Le Carre had turned into yet another British writer who doesn't like George Bush. When communism collapsed, the dead-letter drops, the invisible ink and the microfilm concealed in hollowed-out pumpkins mostly disappeared from fiction, too.
Yet these things have not, it seems, disappeared from real life. This week the FBI arrested 10 people -- an 11th was detained in Cyprus, given bail and vanished -- who stand accused of working as "illegals" on behalf of the Russian government. Like the Kevin Costner character in the movie "No Way Out," several of them are Russians (as the Russian government has confirmed) who have lived in the United States for many years, slowly acquiring American identities. Although they kept in regular touch with their Russian bosses -- "Moscow Center" -- they have American university degrees, American professions and American children.
They also have American friends. One of these friends may have been Alan Patricof, a Democratic fundraiser and friend of the Clintons. Patricof had occasional conversations with a tax expert, Cynthia Murphy, with whom he discussed . . . . taxes. After one of these chats, an excited Murphy -- a Columbia Business School graduate with an unidentifiable accent -- told Moscow Center she had made contact with a "prominent New York-based financier." Moscow Center, equally excited, told her, according to a federal complaint, to listen carefully for his "remarks re US foreign policy," as well as "roumors" [sic] from the White House "kitchen."
Which leads us to the central mystery: Why on earth would the Russian government spend years of its time and millions of its dollars on the education, upkeep and housing of a spy who might someday be able to collect some rumors from a Democratic fundraiser and friend of the Clintons? There must be several thousand people who fit that description in New York alone, and I bet not one of them knows a single piece of information that cannot also be found somewhere on the Internet. Rumors, White House gossip, foreign policy tidbits -- these are things you can find on the Web sites of The Post, the Brookings Institution and several dozen other institutions, all of whose blogs and articles can be thoroughly examined from an armchair in Moscow.
Explanations have been offered for the apparent cluelessness of these illegals. Maybe they were "sleepers," agents living under deep cover because they might someday be useful. Perhaps they were "talent scouts" whose job was to identify others with greater potential. Or perhaps they were couriers who carried cash and information on behalf of more senior figures.
My guess is different: I think the instructions they were given reflect the mentality of the current Russian elite, many of whose members were once members of the KGB...