Spies

What is it about my sense of fair play that makes me live with the institution of the infiltrator-spy, but find repugnant the spy who secretly turns over information about his/her own country?

Yesterday, the Times reported the death of a spy (I can’t link – the story was buried and is now gone), a Polish man who had been central to American intelligence during the latter years of the Cold War. Here, he was a hero. Staying within the military in Poland, he passed on possibly some of the most vital military secrets to the CIA. He was such a staunch anti-Communist – it is said of him that he truly was passionate about his 20 years of espionage. His sole purpose in life was to see that the Soviet control over Poland would weaken, and that the Communist Party would lose it’s grip on political power.

To his surprise, once a democratic government was elected in Poland, no one there wanted to have anything to do with him. Walesa himself refused to pardon the guy. The country considered him a traitor to the nation.

Today’s press is full of news about the American soldier who allegedly passed information on to Al Qaeda. What demonic instincts would lead a person to do that? Even the least patriotic person would regard that as an immoral act.

But spying on the enemy? That appears to be different. Yes, it’s based on deceit, but it hasn’t the elements of betrayal to the country of origin. The infiltrator who obtains secret information is a hero in film and literature. They may be fighting for the same principles, but the traitor seems a tainted person, while the infiltrator is just doing his/her job. Not one that I’d like to be doing, and not always acting on behalf of policies that I would support, but still, just a well-greased peg in the machinery that noses its way into odd places where secrets are kept.