I wonder if Edward Snowden, the man who leaked highly sensitive information about our country’s intelligence gathering activities, is aware of the parallels between him and the character with his name in Catch-22, the famous anti-war novel by Joseph Heller? (Do I have to explain what “anti-war” means? I hope not.)
The fictional Snowden is a waist-gunner on a WWII bombing mission, whose horrible death galvanizes the main character, Yossarian, into anti-government action. The real Snowden would - except for the dying part – probably be flattered by that comparison. Unlike the airman’s fatal wound, it doesn’t go deep enough for me. That the dying gunner is so completely in shock that all he can say is, “I’m cold,” gets closer to the truth. If Edward Snowden isn’t kicking himself every day, he’s in deep denial about the damage he’s done to his own life.
The real Mr. Snowden worked for the National Security Agency (NSA) a formerly secret branch of the government engaged in work more highly confidential than even the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA). Apparently, he didn’t like being a spy. It’s not for everyone. The irony is that, for the rest of his life, Edward Snowden will be known as a spy. Not for his government job, but because of what he did afterward. He took a large amount of the country’s most top-secret information and revealed it to, well, to the world. That’s what spies do and if Mr. Snowden ever returns to this country, the crime for which he’ll be tried.
Real spies, however, are either idealogues or in business for themselves. The former are treated like heroes by the country or power sponsoring them. The latter are heavily rewarded, usually with money. Since neither praise nor dollars seem to be going his way, it doesn’t look like Snowden was working for anyone – including himself. So who benefits? Supporters may point to the higher profile of the NSA and a potentially chilling effect on its purported invasions of privacy. Yet, in another example of Catch-22, Joseph Heller’s term for a perfectly ironic twist, Snowden may have helped his former employer.
Espionage works in the shadows. Spies can’t brag about whom they’ve assassinated and breaking a code is useless once the enemy knows you’ve done it. (Even if keeping it a secret means letting the Nazis bomb Coventry, England.) Now that our country’s intelligence apparatus is experiencing an unwonted - and very unwanted – spotlight, why not turn it into a limelight? Let the rest of the world be warned, you can’t keep secrets from us. You want to hear Angela Merkel order two bratwursts with everything to go? We’ve got that – and she’s the Chancellor of Germany! (On an unrelated note – Chancellor? Isn’t it time for a new title? Just saying.)
The biggest Catch-22 for Edward Snowden, though, is that he must live in Russia. The man who thought he struck a blow for government transparency and individual rights is forced to live in a country with zero democratic tradition. A country that added “gulag” to the dictionary. A country run by who? Oh yeah, Vladimir Putin, the former head of the KGB, Russia’s secret police. To be fair, his future may not be that bleak. A man with his knowledge and abilities would be invaluable to Smersh or whatever the Russian spy agency is called. Chances are, though, he’d like it even less than the American version.
I’d say that Snowden must spend the rest of his life in Russia, but it isn’t up to him. Like making love to a gorilla, you stop when the gorilla is tired, not you. Let’s suppose then that the Russians get all the information they want from him (somehow) and he is free to leave. Where does he go? A life on the lam, in permanent hiding, beckons. According to Salman Rushdie, however, that’s not as much fun as it sounds – and he should know. Let’s suppose further that after thirty years or so, the world has changed and old crimes become the new norms. It’s happened before. Why can’t an older Edward Snowden return to this country, a newly minted hero? Ask Roman Polanski. He’ll tell you.
My advice to Edward Snowden, therefore, is to develop a taste for irony – and vodka. Reading Catch-22 will help with the former and any Russian over the age of twelve, with the latter. If you’re gay, find an apartment with a very large closet and, finally, avoid the temptation to wear a “Free Pussy Riot” t-shirt. See you at the Olympics.
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