Today, the Senate intelligence committee offered bipartisan support for the nomination of Gina Haspel to head the CIA. Haspel, while a CIA officer, oversaw a torture site, and participated actively in efforts to destroy evidence of CIA torture.
Late last month, Michael Hayden, a former director of the CIA and a persistent critic of the Trump administration, took to the pages of the New York Times to attack the “post truth” condition of Trump’s America and to emphasize the “serious stress” being placed on American “traditions and institutions that protect us from living Hobbesian ‘solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short’ lives.”
As the antidote to Trump’s attacks on American institutions, Hayden celebrated “intelligence work.” Such work, he claimed, “at least as practiced in the Western liberal tradition--reflects...threatened Enlightenment values: gathering, evaluating and analyzing information, and then disseminating conclusions for use, study or refutation.” Hayden proceeded to blame Trump for undermining those values through the president’s Muslim ban, his fragile ego, and own lack of intelligence.
Hayden argued that “intelligence shares a broader duty with...other truth-tellers to preserve the commitment and ability of our society to base important decisions on our best judgment of what constitutes objective reality.”
These are a striking set of claims. While few inhabitants of the realm of reality would dispute the idea that Donald Trump’s fascism is undermining institutions, values, discourse, and thereby democracy, Hayden’s argument about the claim of national security agencies to be conveyors of Enlightenment values, “truth-tellers” that foster open modes of discourse deserve closer scrutiny and a good deal of skepticism.
Michael Hayden served as NSA Director, National Intelligence deputy director, and CIA director during the the Bush administration, a troubled period defined by the aggrandizement of power by the security state, a rash declaration of poorly-defined and unexplained war on terror. This period, and the abuses by the security state that it set in motion--abuses which, it should be noted, continued through the Obama administration--actually helped to facilitate Trump’s rise to power.
During this period, intelligence agencies offered a series of misleading claims that enabled the declaration of aggressive war--a crime--against Iraq, a war which led to the unravelling of the Middle East, the disintegration of the careers of several American presidential aspirants, and the proliferation of international terrorism.
During this era, Hayden defended expanded powers of domestic surveillance for the security state, warning that such powers were essential for American security. Hayden privatized components of these dangerous efforts, and contracts accrued to a company staffed by former high ranking intelligence officers. Hayden pursued whistleblowers with a vengeance (offering highly personalized attacks on Edward Snowden and lying to senators about the NSA’s spying programs), demonstrating little patience with the argument that Americans needed to know what happened behind the closed doors of the security state.
At the same time, he rebuffed or ignored Congressional critics of the security state’s stealthily-expanded remit. Hayden reportedly told one internal critic that “We didn’t need [constitutional safeguards]” for expanding surveillance of Americans, acknowledging that he did not believe his agency needed to acquire warrants for this surveillance.
In confirmation hearings, Hayden attacked journalistic scrutiny of intelligence work. And he later defended the utility of torture. Hayden lied to Congress in an effort to obstruct investigations into torture, and his agency waged a long-term campaign to undermine the senate investigation and control the report that emerged from the investigation.
Hayden also presided over and later defended the CIA’s drone program, which involved using disposition matrices (statistical assessments) to murder often faceless people without anything resembling due process. Such murders violated key legal principles, allowed for simmering conflicts to continue beneath Congress’ radars, often struck the wrong targets, and killed massive numbers of innocent civilians (sometimes 90% of their victims)--not that they allowed for anything resembling a concrete statement of their intended targets’ guilt. Hayden made the extraordinary request to be allowed to blow people to smithereens on the basis of unknown vehicles or houses exhibiting activities associated with an Al Qaeda-esque “pattern of life.”
In sum, Michael Hayden was a national security leader who sought the unaccountable and secret expansion of intelligence agencies’ powers to surveil and intrude on the lives of American citizens. He enabled his agencies to murder--sometimes singly, sometimes on a massive scale--our global neighbors in flagrant violation of our laws and international accords. He defended torture, attacked the press, prosecuted whistleblowers to keep citizens from learning about his agencies’ work, and waged a cold war against elected representatives charged with overseeing his agencies and shedding light on the security state’s activities in the public interest.
Through these actions, Hayden exported violence and terror, and undermined the principles of an open society, arguing that the security state along had a right to evaluate the premises undergirding international policy, military intervention, civil liberties grabs, and constitutional safeguards.
In light of this track record, Hayden’s claims about the “Enlightened,” “liberal,” “truth telling,” and knowledge-disseminating qualities of intelligence agencies are not just absurd. They exhibit profound ignorance about the set of factors--and the rogue nature of our security services are one of these--that elevated Trump to office, are deliberately ahistorical in their efforts to deny the barbarism of U.S. national security policy, and represent a foray into “post truth” politics that might not quite rival Donald Trump’s excursions, but which promise to resonate long after this administration has ended.
Perhaps it’s worth looking at an actual Enlightenment-era thinker to see what people of that era thought about the issues Hayden describes. Each spring, my European history students read passages from Cesare Beccaria, an eighteenth-century jurist and criminologist. On Crimes and Punishments remains a representative piece of Enlightenment-era thinking about law, criminality, and justice.
In it, Beccaria argued that although laws “ought to be conventions between men in a state of freedom,” they were historically too often “the work of the passions of a few, or the consequences of a fortuitous or temporary necessity,” the state of exception perhaps represented by the pressures our own “forever war” on terror placed on our institutions. Beccaria also commented on the role of punishments, the need for transparency, and the problems of torture.
Punishments, he declared, should not “torment a sensible being.” Those torments constituted “useless cruelty, the instrument of furious fanaticism, or the impotency of tyrants.”
“Secret accusations,” of the sort effectively levelled by the CIA and the NSA before the despatch of a drone to create a crater of mangled limbs and spattered blood in place of the human accused and his or her neighbors, “are a manifest abuse” stemming from “the weakness of the government,” and have the effect of making “men false and treacherous.” He approvingly cited Montesquieu’s notion that public, processual accusations “are more conformable to the nature of a republic.”
Beccaria reserved some of his harshest words for torture. “No man,” he wrote, “can be judged a criminal until he be found guilty; nor can society take from him the public protection, until it have been proved that he has violated the conditions on which it was granted.” “It is confounding all relations,” Beccaria argued, to suggest that “pain should be the test of truth, as if truth resided in the muscles and fibres of a wretch in torture.” The purpose of torture, he acknowledged, as Hayden and his ilk fail to acknowledge, is “to terrify and be an example to others,” a legacy of “savage legislation” from the pre-Enlightenment darkness of the human past. Beccaria also noted that in the case of torture, the incentive to confess to end the terror and pain meant that “the very means employed to distinguish the innocent from the guilty will most effectually destroy all difference between them.”
Beccaria praised the early abolition of torture in Sweden and the abhorrence for the practice that he believed pertained in Britain.
Torture, he said, amounted to a declaration of barbarism: “Men, be insensible to pain. Nature has indeed given you an irresistible self-love, and an unalienable right of self-preservation; but I create in you a contrary sentiment, an heroic hatred of yourselves. I command you to accuse yourselves, and to declare the truth, midst the tearing of your flesh, and the dislocation of your bones.”
Beccaria, of course, does not represent the totality of Enlightenment thinking about terror and punishment. He did not anticipate the threat of international terrorism, but nor did he guess at the self-destructive qualities of democratic states exposed for centuries to what he and his compatriots believed to be systems of values and laws that transcended exception in order to endure alongside wiser and more enlightened and more democratic states.
Alongside the more obvious menaces to our democratic institutions represented by the Trump administration, and its fellow global authoritarians, lurk a group of people described in other contexts as “securocrats.” That constellation of national security officials have argued for over a decade now, often with bipartisan support, that laws and norms and institutions should be subordinated to their privileged knowledge, knowledge which, moreover, the public is not fit to see. Those officials have abused their power, fostered mistrust of government, meddled in elections, exported terror--torture, drone strikes, aggressive war--and battled representative institutions to assert their primacy at the heart of our government.
They now seek to associate themselves with resistance to authoritarianism, when in reality they have been its enablers. They have squandered a public trust that they never actually earned, and should be uprooted and disciplined, rather than praised and promoted. Rejecting Gina Haspel’s nomination provides one important opportunity for legislators to send such a signal. But so too would rejecting recent efforts to put the securocrats’ war on, of, and for terror on autopilot. Likewise, efforts to wind down U.S. backing for and participation in a Saudi-led campaign of terror and destabilization in Yemen.
The watchers should become the watched, and we should all give careful scrutiny for the willingness and wherewithal of our legislators to hold securocrats accountable at our extended moment of democratic crisis.
Late last month, Michael Hayden, a former director of the CIA and a persistent critic of the Trump administration, took to the pages of the New York Times to attack the “post truth” condition of Trump’s America and to emphasize the “serious stress” being placed on American “traditions and institutions that protect us from living Hobbesian ‘solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short’ lives.”
As the antidote to Trump’s attacks on American institutions, Hayden celebrated “intelligence work.” Such work, he claimed, “at least as practiced in the Western liberal tradition--reflects...threatened Enlightenment values: gathering, evaluating and analyzing information, and then disseminating conclusions for use, study or refutation.” Hayden proceeded to blame Trump for undermining those values through the president’s Muslim ban, his fragile ego, and own lack of intelligence.
Hayden argued that “intelligence shares a broader duty with...other truth-tellers to preserve the commitment and ability of our society to base important decisions on our best judgment of what constitutes objective reality.”
These are a striking set of claims. While few inhabitants of the realm of reality would dispute the idea that Donald Trump’s fascism is undermining institutions, values, discourse, and thereby democracy, Hayden’s argument about the claim of national security agencies to be conveyors of Enlightenment values, “truth-tellers” that foster open modes of discourse deserve closer scrutiny and a good deal of skepticism.
Michael Hayden served as NSA Director, National Intelligence deputy director, and CIA director during the the Bush administration, a troubled period defined by the aggrandizement of power by the security state, a rash declaration of poorly-defined and unexplained war on terror. This period, and the abuses by the security state that it set in motion--abuses which, it should be noted, continued through the Obama administration--actually helped to facilitate Trump’s rise to power.
During this period, intelligence agencies offered a series of misleading claims that enabled the declaration of aggressive war--a crime--against Iraq, a war which led to the unravelling of the Middle East, the disintegration of the careers of several American presidential aspirants, and the proliferation of international terrorism.
During this era, Hayden defended expanded powers of domestic surveillance for the security state, warning that such powers were essential for American security. Hayden privatized components of these dangerous efforts, and contracts accrued to a company staffed by former high ranking intelligence officers. Hayden pursued whistleblowers with a vengeance (offering highly personalized attacks on Edward Snowden and lying to senators about the NSA’s spying programs), demonstrating little patience with the argument that Americans needed to know what happened behind the closed doors of the security state.
At the same time, he rebuffed or ignored Congressional critics of the security state’s stealthily-expanded remit. Hayden reportedly told one internal critic that “We didn’t need [constitutional safeguards]” for expanding surveillance of Americans, acknowledging that he did not believe his agency needed to acquire warrants for this surveillance.
In confirmation hearings, Hayden attacked journalistic scrutiny of intelligence work. And he later defended the utility of torture. Hayden lied to Congress in an effort to obstruct investigations into torture, and his agency waged a long-term campaign to undermine the senate investigation and control the report that emerged from the investigation.
Hayden also presided over and later defended the CIA’s drone program, which involved using disposition matrices (statistical assessments) to murder often faceless people without anything resembling due process. Such murders violated key legal principles, allowed for simmering conflicts to continue beneath Congress’ radars, often struck the wrong targets, and killed massive numbers of innocent civilians (sometimes 90% of their victims)--not that they allowed for anything resembling a concrete statement of their intended targets’ guilt. Hayden made the extraordinary request to be allowed to blow people to smithereens on the basis of unknown vehicles or houses exhibiting activities associated with an Al Qaeda-esque “pattern of life.”
In sum, Michael Hayden was a national security leader who sought the unaccountable and secret expansion of intelligence agencies’ powers to surveil and intrude on the lives of American citizens. He enabled his agencies to murder--sometimes singly, sometimes on a massive scale--our global neighbors in flagrant violation of our laws and international accords. He defended torture, attacked the press, prosecuted whistleblowers to keep citizens from learning about his agencies’ work, and waged a cold war against elected representatives charged with overseeing his agencies and shedding light on the security state’s activities in the public interest.
Through these actions, Hayden exported violence and terror, and undermined the principles of an open society, arguing that the security state along had a right to evaluate the premises undergirding international policy, military intervention, civil liberties grabs, and constitutional safeguards.
In light of this track record, Hayden’s claims about the “Enlightened,” “liberal,” “truth telling,” and knowledge-disseminating qualities of intelligence agencies are not just absurd. They exhibit profound ignorance about the set of factors--and the rogue nature of our security services are one of these--that elevated Trump to office, are deliberately ahistorical in their efforts to deny the barbarism of U.S. national security policy, and represent a foray into “post truth” politics that might not quite rival Donald Trump’s excursions, but which promise to resonate long after this administration has ended.
Perhaps it’s worth looking at an actual Enlightenment-era thinker to see what people of that era thought about the issues Hayden describes. Each spring, my European history students read passages from Cesare Beccaria, an eighteenth-century jurist and criminologist. On Crimes and Punishments remains a representative piece of Enlightenment-era thinking about law, criminality, and justice.
In it, Beccaria argued that although laws “ought to be conventions between men in a state of freedom,” they were historically too often “the work of the passions of a few, or the consequences of a fortuitous or temporary necessity,” the state of exception perhaps represented by the pressures our own “forever war” on terror placed on our institutions. Beccaria also commented on the role of punishments, the need for transparency, and the problems of torture.
Punishments, he declared, should not “torment a sensible being.” Those torments constituted “useless cruelty, the instrument of furious fanaticism, or the impotency of tyrants.”
“Secret accusations,” of the sort effectively levelled by the CIA and the NSA before the despatch of a drone to create a crater of mangled limbs and spattered blood in place of the human accused and his or her neighbors, “are a manifest abuse” stemming from “the weakness of the government,” and have the effect of making “men false and treacherous.” He approvingly cited Montesquieu’s notion that public, processual accusations “are more conformable to the nature of a republic.”
Beccaria reserved some of his harshest words for torture. “No man,” he wrote, “can be judged a criminal until he be found guilty; nor can society take from him the public protection, until it have been proved that he has violated the conditions on which it was granted.” “It is confounding all relations,” Beccaria argued, to suggest that “pain should be the test of truth, as if truth resided in the muscles and fibres of a wretch in torture.” The purpose of torture, he acknowledged, as Hayden and his ilk fail to acknowledge, is “to terrify and be an example to others,” a legacy of “savage legislation” from the pre-Enlightenment darkness of the human past. Beccaria also noted that in the case of torture, the incentive to confess to end the terror and pain meant that “the very means employed to distinguish the innocent from the guilty will most effectually destroy all difference between them.”
Beccaria praised the early abolition of torture in Sweden and the abhorrence for the practice that he believed pertained in Britain.
Torture, he said, amounted to a declaration of barbarism: “Men, be insensible to pain. Nature has indeed given you an irresistible self-love, and an unalienable right of self-preservation; but I create in you a contrary sentiment, an heroic hatred of yourselves. I command you to accuse yourselves, and to declare the truth, midst the tearing of your flesh, and the dislocation of your bones.”
Beccaria, of course, does not represent the totality of Enlightenment thinking about terror and punishment. He did not anticipate the threat of international terrorism, but nor did he guess at the self-destructive qualities of democratic states exposed for centuries to what he and his compatriots believed to be systems of values and laws that transcended exception in order to endure alongside wiser and more enlightened and more democratic states.
Alongside the more obvious menaces to our democratic institutions represented by the Trump administration, and its fellow global authoritarians, lurk a group of people described in other contexts as “securocrats.” That constellation of national security officials have argued for over a decade now, often with bipartisan support, that laws and norms and institutions should be subordinated to their privileged knowledge, knowledge which, moreover, the public is not fit to see. Those officials have abused their power, fostered mistrust of government, meddled in elections, exported terror--torture, drone strikes, aggressive war--and battled representative institutions to assert their primacy at the heart of our government.
They now seek to associate themselves with resistance to authoritarianism, when in reality they have been its enablers. They have squandered a public trust that they never actually earned, and should be uprooted and disciplined, rather than praised and promoted. Rejecting Gina Haspel’s nomination provides one important opportunity for legislators to send such a signal. But so too would rejecting recent efforts to put the securocrats’ war on, of, and for terror on autopilot. Likewise, efforts to wind down U.S. backing for and participation in a Saudi-led campaign of terror and destabilization in Yemen.
The watchers should become the watched, and we should all give careful scrutiny for the willingness and wherewithal of our legislators to hold securocrats accountable at our extended moment of democratic crisis.