A l’occasion de sa 102e session plénière les 20 et 21 mars 2015, la Commission de Venise du Conseil de l’Europe a adopté un document intitulé « Mise à jour du rapport de 2007 sur le contrôle démocratique des services de sécurité et rapport sur le contrôle démocratique des agences de collecte de renseignements d’origine électromagnétique ». Alors que le très controversé projet de loi français sur le renseignement vient d’être voté en première lecture par l’Assemblée nationale le 5 mai, ce rapport de la Commission de Venise acquiert une importance toute particulière. Cet article, sans avoir vocation à être exhaustif, entend démêler les principaux enjeux.
La Commission européenne pour la démocratie par le droit, plus communément appelée Commission de Venise où les séances plénières se déroulent quatre fois par an, est « un organe consultatif du Conseil de l’Europe sur les questions constitutionnelles ». Pour rappel, le Conseil de l’Europe est à distinguer de l’Union européenne. En effet, celui-ci est une organisation internationale de défense des droits de l’homme créée le 5 mai 1949 par le traité de Londres. Aujourd’hui fort de 47 États membres dont les 28 de l’Union européenne, le Conseil de l’Europe a pour objectif de défendre les droits de l’homme, la démocratie et l’État de droit sur le continent européen. Le Saint Siège, les États-Unis, le Canada, le Japon et le Mexique bénéficient du statut d’observateur tandis que la Turquie et la Russie sont membres de plein droit. Tous les États membres du Conseil de l’Europe ont signé la Convention européenne des droits de l’homme. Parmi ces Etats, 18 ont décidé de créer en mai 1990 la Commission de Venise. Cette dernière s’est vue confier la mission de leur « procurer des conseils juridiques » et « aider ceux qui souhaitent mettre leurs structures juridiques et institutionnelles en conformité avec les normes et l’expérience internationales en matière de démocratie, de droits de l’homme et de prééminence du droit ». En 2015, ladite Commission compte 60 États membres, à savoir les 47 États membres du Conseil de l’Europe ainsi que l’Algérie, le Brésil, le Chili, la République de Corée, les Etats-Unis, Israël, le Kazakhstan, le Kirghizistan, Kosovo, le Maroc, le Mexique, le Pérou et la Tunisie. Chaque membre désigne pour quatre ans un représentant, reconnu comme « expert indépendant éminent » en raison de son expérience au sein des institutions démocratiques ou de sa contribution au développement du droit et des sciences politiques. Ces professeurs d’université en droit public ou en droit international, juges des cours suprêmes ou constitutionnelles ou encore membres de parlements nationaux, une fois désignés par leurs Etats, agissent en leur nom propre.
En 2007, la Commission de Venise a adopté un rapport sur le contrôle démocratique des services de sécurité dans lequel la question du contrôle « du ou des services assumant la fonction de défense de la sécurité intérieure » était abordée. En l’espace de quelques années seulement, cette question a beaucoup évolué, à la faveur non seulement du développement de nouveaux outils et modes de communication, mais aussi des changements sécuritaires qui se sont opérés dans le monde. Par conséquent, la supervision des services de renseignement doit s’adapter et la nécessité d’un contrôle démocratique amélioré se fait de plus en plus pressante. Les conflits actuels en Syrie et en Iraq ainsi que le phénomène des combattants étrangers, ces Européens qui partent combattre aux côtés de l’organisation Etat islamique, ont changé la donne. Dès lors que le terrorisme devient le fait de « loups solitaires », il s’avère complexe de s’en prémunir et le nombre de cibles potentielles explose. Ce contexte particulier se traduit logiquement par une surcharge de travail pour les services de renseignement des Etats qui « réclament donc à juste titre un renforcement de leur pouvoir ». Ainsi, en mai 2013, tous les membres de la Commission de Venise ont reçu une requête concernant « l’évolution des questions pertinentes en matière de contrôle de la sécurité intérieure ». Parallèlement, à l’automne 2014, le projet « Droits fondamentaux, garanties et recours » a permis un échange de vues sur les services nationaux de renseignement et leur contrôle dans l’Union européenne. Sur la base de ces contributions, la mise à jour du rapport de 2007 a été discutée en sous-commission des institutions démocratiques le 19 mars 2015 avant d’être adopté en session plénière de la Commission de Venise.
Si le résumé du rapport de la Commission de Venise faisant office de préambule « ne saurait être interprété comme suggérant que tous les Etats se conforment à un modèle particulier de [renseignement d’origine électromagnétique] ou réglementent cette activité d’une certaine manière », un parallèle avec le projet de loi français sur le renseignement fournit quelques éléments au débat sur la surveillance. Ce projet de loi, déposé au Parlement français par le gouvernement, vise à « fournir un cadre légal aux services de renseignement ». Pour rappel, les « services de renseignement français » sont constitués de la Direction générale de la sécurité extérieure, la Direction de la protection et de la sécurité de la défense, la Direction du renseignement militaire, la Direction générale de la sécurité intérieure, la Direction nationale du renseignement et des enquêtes douanières, et enfin Tracfin qui est le service de renseignement rattaché au Ministère des finances.
Le développement du renseignement d’origine électromagnétique, à savoir des « moyens et méthodes permettant d’intercepter et d’analyser des communications transmises par ondes radio […] et par câbles », « fait peser un risque potentiel beaucoup plus important sur les droits individuels » peut-on lire dans le rapport de la Commission de Venise. Ce type de renseignement, qui visait auparavant des menaces militaires extérieures, peut désormais être utilisé dans le cadre de la surveillance de télécommunications ordinaires. Cette surveillance stratégique, contrairement à la surveillance ciblée, « n’est pas forcément déclenchée en raison d’un soupçon pesant sur une ou plusieurs personnes spécifiques » puisqu’elle « vise à trouver ou à identifier un danger au lieu de se contenter d’enquêter sur une menace connue ». Si ce système revêt une importance considérable pour les opérations de sécurité, les risques qu’il fait peser sur les droits individuels sont tout aussi considérables. C’est notamment ce qu’ont dénoncé certains détracteurs du projet de loi français sur le renseignement qui prévoit la mise en œuvre chez les opérateurs « d’un dispositif destiné à détecter une menace terroriste sur la base de traitements automatisés » de données. Qualifiés de « boîtes noires » par les opposants au projet de loi, ces dispositifs seront installés chez les fournisseurs d’accès à internet et ingéreront une quantité de données. Un algorithme détectera ensuite les potentiels comportements terroristes sur internet. Face à l’opposition des acteurs du numérique, un amendement introduit à l’Assemblée nationale restreint l’accès aux seules métadonnées qui sont des données de connexion (c’est-à-dire qui communique avec qui) et non aux contenus des communications. Les services de renseignement pourront seulement consulter les métadonnées. Le projet de loi français autorise également « le recueil des informations et des documents […] relatifs à des personnes préalablement identifiées comme présentant une menace ». La logique est donc celle d’une surveillance ciblée couplée à une surveillance stratégique, au sens du rapport de la Commission de Venise.
A cela s’ajoutent la légalisation de l’utilisation de dispositifs techniques « permettant la localisation en temps réel d’une personne, d’un véhicule ou d’un objet » mais aussi « la captation, la fixation, la transmission et l’enregistrement de paroles prononcées à titre privé ou confidentiel, ou d’images dans un lieu privé » ainsi que « de données informatiques ». Sont également autorisées « les interceptions de correspondances émises par la voie de communications électroniques et susceptibles de révéler des renseignements relatifs aux intérêts publics », « l’introduction dans un véhicule ou dans un lieu privé » dans le but d’installer ou retirer les dispositifs techniques mentionnés, ainsi que l’introduction dans les systèmes de traitement automatisé de données. A cet égard, le rapport de la Commission de Venise précise que « la surveillance stratégique n’est pas forcément une surveillance « massive » mais peut le devenir lorsque la collecte porte sur des données en vrac et que les seuils d’accès correspondants sont bas ».
En ce sens, le mandat conféré aux services de renseignement a un rôle important. Du point de vue formel, le rapport souligne que « la plupart des Etats démocratiques ont défini au moins partiellement les modalités du [renseignement d’origine électromagnétique] conformément aux exigences posées par la [Convention européenne des droits de l’homme] ». Cependant, les autorités des Etats membres sont mises en garde contre les mandats trop larges qui accroissent « le risque de collecte excessive ». Du côté français, le projet de loi sur le renseignement identifie sept « intérêts publics » qui justifient le recours aux techniques de renseignement mentionnées plus avant :
Au sujet de la collecte de renseignements pour le bien-être économique de la nation, le rapport de la Commission de Venise fait valoir que ce type de justification « peut aboutir à un espionnage industriel » mais que « la surveillance stratégique est cependant utile dans au moins trois domaines d’activité économique : la prolifération des armes de destruction massive […], le contournement des sanctions imposées par l’ONU et l’UE, et le blanchiment de capitaux à grande échelle ».
En matière de contrôle des activités de renseignement, les systèmes censés contrôler les services de renseignement « semblent généralement réduits à portion congrue ». Le rapport fait valoir que si certains avancent l’argument d’un accès aux seules métadonnées, celles-ci « peuvent révéler beaucoup de détails sur la vie privée d’une personne ». De même, « les contrôles tendent à faiblir en raison de la complexité technique et de la rapidité des progrès technologiques ». Du côté français, « la mise en œuvre sur le territoire national des techniques de recueil du renseignement […] est soumise à autorisation préalable du Premier ministre », délivrée « après avis de la Commission nationale de contrôle des techniques de renseignement ». Cette dernière est une autorité administrative indépendante composée de trois députés et trois sénateurs, trois membres du Conseil d’Etat, trois magistrats de la Cour de cassation et une « personnalité qualifiée pour sa connaissance en matière de communications électroniques ». Le projet de loi prévoit également qu’ « en cas d’urgence absolue » la mise en œuvre de ces techniques peut être autorisée « sans avis préalable de la Commission nationale de contrôle des techniques de renseignement ». En cas de désaccord, ladite Commission « peut décider, après délibération, de saisir le Conseil d’Etat ».
Comme son nom l’indique, la Commission nationale de contrôle des techniques de renseignement serait également chargée de veiller « à ce que les techniques de recueil du renseignement soient mises en œuvre sur le territoire national » conformément au droit. Pour ce faire, celle-ci « reçoit communication de toutes demandes et autorisations », « dispose d’un accès permanent aux relevés, registres, renseignements collectés, transcriptions et extractions », « est informée à tout moment, à sa demande, des modalités d’exécution des autorisations en cours » et enfin, peut solliciter un certain nombre d’éléments de la part du Premier ministre. Sur treize membres, la Commission nationale de contrôle des techniques de renseignement compterait donc six parlementaires. Or, dans son rapport, la Commission de Venise souligne le caractère problématique du contrôle parlementaire. D’abord, la dimension technique du renseignement d’origine électromagnétique « empêche la plupart des parlementaires d’exercer un contrôle sans l’aide de spécialistes ». De plus, ces parlementaires « ont souvent d’autant plus de mal à trouver le temps nécessaire pour exercer le contrôle […] que la surveillance stratégique suppose un organe permanent. » Enfin, la collaboration entre les services de renseignement de plusieurs pays « explique les réticences à admettre un contrôle parlementaire susceptible non seulement d’affecter les services du pays collecteur, mais également ceux de ses alliés. » Ces techniques de renseignement ayant un impact sur les droits individuels, leur contrôle relève généralement du pouvoir judiciaire. Le législateur français n’a pour l’instant pas fait ce choix. Les opposants au projet de loi français ont pour certains dénoncé le choix d’un contrôle administratif. Cela d’autant plus qu’il est parfois complexe de trouver un équilibre entre le respect de la vie privée et d’autres intérêts, nationaux notamment.
Un autre aspect cristallise les débats en matière de renseignement et de surveillance : la durée de conservation des données collectées. Le rapport de la Commission de Venise précise que « l’exigence de conservation/transfert crée un risque potentiel de surveillance massive qui se concrétisera dès lors que les critères d’accès aux données sont laxistes et que l’accès aux données à caractère personnel d’un grand nombre d’individus devient par conséquent possible ». La Cour de Justice de l’Union européenne a d’ailleurs invalidé, par l’arrêt Digital Rights Ireland et Seitlinger e.a. du 8 avril 2014, la Directive européenne sur la conservation des données au motif qu’elle comportait « une ingérence d’une vaste ampleur et d’une gravité particulière dans les droits fondamentaux au respect de la vie privée et à la protection des données à caractère personnel sans que cette ingérence soit limitée au strict nécessaire ». Le projet de loi français prévoit à cet égard que les renseignements collectés soient détruits à l’issue d’une durée de 30 jours à compter de la première exploitation pour les correspondances, de 90 jours pour les renseignements collectés et 5 ans pour les données de connexion. Pour les renseignements chiffrés, il est précisé que « le délai court à compter de leur déchiffrement ». L’Alliance des Libéraux et Démocrates du Parlement européen a adressé à la Commission européenne une question écrite relative à ce projet de loi le 14 avril dernier. Dans ce document, les eurodéputés s’interrogent notamment sur la conformité de ces durées de rétention des données collectées au regard de l’arrêt du 8 avril 2014 de la Cour de Justice, et s’inquiètent de méthodes intrusives voire dangereuses pour les libertés publiques. Aucune réponse n’a pour l’instant été apportée. La procédure législative française suivant son cours, le projet de loi doit maintenant être discuté au Sénat.
Au regard de l’actualité et des scandales qui émaillent les activités des services de renseignement, en Europe comme aux Etats-Unis, un encadrement des pratiques est nécessaire. Depuis deux semaines, le débat sur les pouvoirs du BND, les services de renseignement allemands, est virulent. Soupçonné d’avoir contribué à l’espionnage des Européens par les services américains de la NSA, le BND est au cœur d’une tempête qui affecte le gouvernement d’Angela Merkel. Reste à savoir si la mise à jour du rapport de la Commission de Venise sera prise en compte par les autorités de la planète. Rien n’est moins sûr.
Charline Quillérou
Pour en savoir plus
-. Présentation de la Commission de Venise http://www.venice.coe.int/WebForms/pages/default.aspx?p=01_Presentation (FR)http://www.venice.coe.int/WebForms/pages/?p=01_Presentation (EN)
-. Mise à jour du rapport de 2007 sur le contrôle démocratique des services de sécurité et rapport sur le contrôle démocratique des agences de collecte de renseignements d’origine électromagnétique, 7 avril 2015 http://www.venice.coe.int/webforms/documents/default.aspx?pdffile=CDL-AD%282015%29006-f (FR) http://www.venice.coe.int/webforms/documents/default.aspx?pdffile=CDL-AD%282015%29006-e (EN)
-. Projet de loi sur le renseignement déposé par le gouvernement français le 19 mars 2015 http://www.assemblee-nationale.fr/14/projets/pl2669.asp (FR)
– . Projet de loi sur le renseignement adopté par l’Assemblée nationale française le 5 mai 2015 http://www.senat.fr/leg/pjl14-424.html (FR)
-. Arrêt de la Cour de Justice de l’Union européenne, Digital Rights Ireland et Seitlinger e.a., 8 avril 2014 http://curia.europa.eu/jcms/upload/docs/application/pdf/2014-04/cp140054fr.pdf (FR)
Based at NAS North Island in San Diego, HSC-4 is tasked with Anti-Submarine Warfare (ASW) missions as well as Search and Rescue, Combat Search and Rescue, Special Operations Support and Logistics.
The squadron is assigned to Carrier Air Wing TWO (CVW-2).
Also known as the Black Knights, HSC-4 flies the MH-60S Knighthawk, a helicopter that features a glass cockpit with active matrix liquid crystal displays specialised in ASW, Vertical Replenishment (VERTREP) at Sea, Humanitarian Disaster Relief, Search and Rescue, Combat Search and Rescue, Aero Medical Evacuation, SPECWAR, Organic Airborne Mine Countermeasures, and Logistical support.
The video below shows HSC-4 Knignhawk helos fly in tactical formation at low level over the desert, perform winching operations and operate on warships, including aircraft carrier USS Ronald Regan.
H/T to HSC-4 for the heads-up
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Enthusiasm for reforming our democracies has been gaining momentum. From the pages of Foreign Policy to the colorful criticisms of comedian Russell Brand, it is evident that a long-overdue public conversation on this topic is finally getting started.
There is no lack of proposals. For example, in their recent Foreign Policy piece, John Boik and colleagues focus on decentralized, emergent, tech-driven solutions such as participatory budgeting, local currency systems, and open government. They are confident that such innovations have a good chance of “spreading virally” and bringing about major change. Internet-based solutions, in particular, have captured our collective imagination. From Pia Mancini’s blockbuster TED presentation to New Scientist‘s recent coverage of “digital democracy,” we’re eager to believe that smartphone apps and novel online platforms hold the key to reinventing our way of governance. This seems only natural: after all, the same technologies have already radically reconfigured large swaths of our daily lives.
To put it bluntly, I believe that focusing on innovations of this sort is a dangerous distraction. Sure, empowering citizens at the local level and through trendy new technologies — and the greater public involvement in policy-making this promises — are positive developments. But we must remember that the bulk of political power still lies in the hands of the professional politicians that govern our nations. Being able to affect how things are run in our neighborhood is great, but how much of a victory is that if we have so little control over our national governments? Similarly, technology that lets us “crowd-source” writing legislation is fine, but how much good will this do us if the political class continues to have the final say on what actually becomes law?Instead of letting ourselves become distracted by the glitter of the local and the technological, we should focus on reclaiming some real political power at the top levels of government. The question is: how might we do so?
As described in my book, Rebooting Democracy: A Citizen’s Guide to Reinventing Politics, a number of extraordinarily encouraging experiments along these lines have taken place in British Columbia, Oregon, and elsewhere over the last decade. What they all have in common is citizen deliberation: the use of large panels of randomly selected citizens to carefully reflect and decide on complex policy matters, a practice which dates back to ancient Greece. Expanding on this experience could usher in a fundamental change to the nature of government.
The idea of involving ordinary citizens in real-world policy-making will come as a shock to many, but skepticism invariably dissipates as people come to understand how citizen deliberation works in practice. A panel of randomly-selected participants carries out in-depth study and analysis of the issue at hand, including consultations with policy-makers, interest groups, scientific experts and others. They deliberate, at length and with the assistance of skilled facilitators, about the available policy choices and their possible impact. The process has nothing in common with the rowdy scenes and uninformed shouting matches that characterized, for example, the town hall meetings on healthcare reform in the United States.
A commonly voiced concern is whether ordinary citizens have what it takes — are they smart enough to address complex policy issues? Here, too, doubts prove unfounded. Stanford Professor James Fishkin, one of the world’s foremost experts on citizen deliberation, writes that “the public is very smart if you give them a chance. If people think their voice actually matters, they’ll do the hard work, really study, … ask the experts smart questions and then make tough decisions. When they hear the experts disagreeing, they’re forced to think for themselves. About 70% change their minds in the process.” He assures that “citizens can become better informed and master the most complex issues of state government if they are given the chance.”
The promise of citizen deliberation is that it could free policy-making from the well-known biases that plague professional politicians. Ordinary citizens, chosen at random, can act in what they perceive to be the true public interest, free from the pressures of facing reelection. The role of money in politics and the dangers of hyper-partisanship are increasingly obvious in today’s politics, but letting ordinary citizens make policy avoids these pitfalls — they must neither cater to the interests of those who funded their campaign nor hew to the party line. They don’t have to worry about how necessary-but-unpopular measures will adversely impact their popularity. Perhaps just as importantly, they will be truly representative of the general population, in the sense that such a citizen panel, by virtue of being drawn at random, will tend to mirror the entire citizenry in terms of gender, age, occupation, socio-economic background and political attitudes — very much unlike the privileged political class that currently rules us.
But perhaps the most exciting aspect is that none of this is idle, academic speculation. Recent experiences show how well citizen deliberation works in practice. In 2004, a randomly-chosen panel of 160 citizens was tasked by the government of the Canadian province of British Columbia with reforming the province’s electoral system. After drawing on the input of a wide variety of experts, consulting the public, and deliberating at length, the British Columbia Citizens’ Assembly on Electoral Reform ended up suggesting a type of electoral system that, in the words of Professor David Farrell, a renowned expert on electoral systems, “politicians, given a choice, would probably least like to see introduced but which voters, given a choice, should choose.” The assembly’s proposal was later approved by 58 percent of the popular vote in a referendum, yet regrettably failed to meet the strict requirements imposed by the provincial government for its results to be considered binding and, for that reason, has yet to be implemented.
Similarly encouraging results are reported from the U.S. state of Oregon. Since 2010, citizen deliberation has been used to assist Oregon voters in state-wide ballot initiatives. In a process known as the “Citizen Initiative Review,” a panel of about 25 randomly chosen Oregonians is tasked with carefully researching and deliberating on the ballot measure up for a vote. At the end of this process, an accessible and highly informative set of “key findings”, as well as an indication of how many panelists ultimately supported and opposed the proposed measure, are presented as a “citizens’ statement” in the pamphlet that voters receive in the mail before a ballot. Research confirms that this citizens’ statement not only makes voters better-informed, but also has a substantial influence on the voting behavior of those who read it.
As these examples make evident, gradually incorporating citizen deliberation into our political institutions holds huge promise. By having a representative microcosm of the general population directly engage in thoughtful, informed policy-making, we have a mechanism that powerfully sidesteps the biases of the traditional political class while also avoiding the unreflective and uninformed behavior that plagues nearly all forms of direct democracy — including the increasingly popular digital ones.
Crucially, and by virtue of the random sampling at the heart of the process, citizen deliberation is also immune to another big problem that afflicts most proposals for more grassroots styles of democracy: self-selection. Whenever participation — whether on- or offline — is open to the public at large, those who take the time and effort to make themselves heard will invariably tend be those who feel most strongly about the topic at hand. (This often means that they also espouse the most extreme views.) Citizen deliberation, on the other hand, ensures that the public voice that emerges from the process is indicative of what the whole population would think about that topic, if only it had the time and resources to carefully deliberate.
So, how might citizen deliberation be used to bring about major changes to our political systems? The most promising proposal, which repeatedly appears in the work of academics and democratic reformers alike, is to create a “citizens’ chamber” in our parliaments. Think for a moment about the tremendous potential demonstrated by the experiments in both British Columbia and Oregon over the last decade: if ad hoc citizen panels work so well, why not try to tap into this source of reasoned, public-spirited decision-making on a more permanent basis? This citizens’ chamber could supervise the work of the elected political class, ensuring that professional politicians did not betray the trust of those they represent. When a sufficiently large majority of the citizens’ chamber deemed that to be the case, it would have the power either to veto the decisions made by elected officials or at least submit them to a popular vote. This is the true potential of citizen deliberation as a way to radically transform our way of doing politics.
Given our political system’s current crisis of legitimacy, we have before us a unique opportunity to truly democratize our way of doing politics. The technology we should be excited about is one that actually dates back 2,500 years. Digital democracy, as well as the other modern developments discussed earlier, promise to give the public a better chance of making itself heard by the political class. Yet, as was already evident to the ancient Athenians, only citizen deliberation can ensure that the public will speak in a way that is, not only empowered, but at the same time representative, reasoned and well-informed.
Photo Credit: Andrew Burton/Getty Images
In March, as the eastern Ukrainian town of Debaltseve suffered heavy fighting despite a recent ceasefire agreement, journalist Nastya Stanko made a disturbing report: “People from Debaltseve told us that the army from NATO, the Polish army, and the U.S. army were all in Debaltseve,” wrote Stanko, a co-founder of independent Ukrainian broadcaster Hromadske.tv. “These people believed that if they were evacuated, they would be killed. So they wouldn’t come out of their basements.” These residents believed what they had seen on Russian television broadcasts. Employing World War II references that trigger traumatic memories, these broadcasts propagate a narrative that paints the popularly elected regime in Ukraine as a Western-backed, ultra-nationalist, fascist junta, conducting pogroms against the Russian-speaking population of eastern and southern Ukraine.
For Ukrainians and observers of the crisis, the Kremlin’s steady campaign of misinformation is a cause of serious concern. Michael Weiss and Peter Pomerantsev have convincingly argued that the Kremlin “weaponizes” information by disseminating outlandish lies, seeking to sow confusion and manipulate public opinion. Initiatives in Europe and the U.S. seek to counter the influence of RT, the well-funded Russian international TV channel that has proven a highly effective disseminator of Kremlin propaganda, with expanded Russian-language reporting from government-run broadcasters such as Voice of America. The Ukrainian Ministry of Information recently announced plans to respond to RT’s international broadcasts with a channel they will call Ukraine Tomorrow. They also plan to combat Russia’s online trolling campaigns with its own “iArmy,” all on the ministry’s modest annual budget of $184,000. By comparison, RT’s 2015 budget is roughly $247 million.
The western and Ukrainian approaches — even if they were adequately resourced — are not the right ones. Fighting propaganda head-on with counter-propaganda is not just unrealistic, but also deeply flawed. My colleague Katya Myasnikova from Ukraine’s Independent Association of Broadcasters memorably likened it to “treating cancer with tuberculosis.” It’s a dirty fight that takes the low ground and has proven highly ineffective at changing minds and winning trust. Instead, fighting propaganda with counter-propaganda only breeds despair, cynicism, and confusion among the target populations.
The people of eastern Ukraine’s Donbass region — those bunkered in their basements in Debaltseve as well as the over one million displaced — are ill-suited as targets for a western PR offensive and the hyper-patriotic messages of the Ukrainian media. What they urgently need instead is factual and highly practical information — “news you can use,” as one U.S. publication once referred to it — that will make an immediate difference in their lives. Rather than fighting Russia’s media spin doctors with bombastic “messaging” from the west or from Kyiv, we should concentrate instead on supporting excellent local journalism and furthering the distribution of objective news and information. This includes detailed reporting on ways to keep people safe, fed, clothed, sheltered, connected with families and friends, and how to rebuild their lives. There are already media outlets stepping up to this challenge in Ukraine, and we should be supporting them.
These informational needs of Ukraine’s war-torn eastern communities are detailed in Internews’ rapid response report, “Ukraine: Trapped in a Propaganda War. Abandoned. Frustrated. Stigmatized.” This report suggests that humanitarian information about where to get much-needed fundamental resources is the most immediate need for these populations. Beyond this immediate information, these people need to regain a sense of agency –which can only be supported by well-targeted, objective information. While propaganda and endless conspiracy theories erodes people’s right to know, diminishing their dignity and respect, the reporting of locally relevant information can be a powerful first step toward rebuilding trust among these disaffected communities — trust in both the Ukrainian government and in quality media as a reliable source of information.
Long before hostilities erupted in the east, Ukrainians had only a wavering trust in media. Major broadcast media outlets were controlled by oligarchs or political interests and served as instruments through which they waged their political and economic vendettas. After the Maidan revolution was followed quickly by Russia’s annexation of Crimea and the rise of pro-Russian separatists in the Donbass, moderate voices could be — and often were — characterized as anti-patriotic. Today, Ukraine’s national media focus largely on covering the war, following “patriotic” editorial policies that dedicate little time or attention to the humanitarian crisis and its consequences.
In the rebel-held territories, media freedom has been all but dismantled, as most of the region’s journalists have fled and separatists have asserted strict control over information resources. They have launched at least four new TV stations and a host of radio stations broadcasting programming ranging from traditional Cossack songs to talk shows on which guests debate the finer points of Russian Orthodoxy — clearly an ideological project. They have allowed few Ukrainian journalists to enter the areas under their control. As a result, neither Ukraine’s national nor its local media have been able to function effectively as a public service media for the east.
That is not to say that there are no media outlets in Ukraine doing the right thing. Moderate voices such as the online Hromadske.tv, the Hromadske radio network, and its affiliates in Kyiv, the Donbass, and Zaporizhzhya are standing up to the challenge. Almost all of these outlets are new players that emerged from the grassroots during the Euromaidan revolution. They belong to the journalists and activists themselves, rather than to oligarchs or the state, and their focus is on local rather than national news. They are not only covering the conflict, but giving those affected by it a voice, allowing genuine and important grievances to be aired, and demanding accountability from the government.
It is unfortunate that most of these outlets are online-only and that their reach among the elderly and the poor — two of the groups most dramatically affected by the conflict — is limited. Helping these outlets spread their message and diversify the way they deliver it — and not fighting Russian lies with lies of our own — is one way Ukraine and the West can win the information war.
The photo shows the filming of the show DebatePro on First National, a state-run Ukrainian television station.
Photo Credit: Internews
The disappearance of a U.S. Marine helicopter in Nepal shows just how fraught relief efforts in the country, ravaged by a recent earthquake and a series of powerful aftershocks, can be for foreign militaries and aid organizations trying to dig the Nepalese people out of the rubble.
The Pentagon confirmed Tuesday that a Marine UH-1 Huey, conducting relief work near Charikot, Nepal, is missing. Six Marines and two Nepalese Army soldiers were onboard. In a statement, the Defense Department said emergency personnel are responding to the alert.
The Marines’ efforts are part of a larger push to get aid to Nepal, which has been devastated by an April 25 7.8 magnitude earthquake that left buildings in ruin, climbers on Mount Everest scrambling to survive an avalanche, and some Nepalese running into the streets in search of safety. A series of aftershocks, including one Tuesday, only added to the devastation. According to official estimates, 8,151 are now dead.
The Pentagon operation is part of a broader effort by American relief organizations, as well as U.S.-based climbing companies that charge hikers tens of thousands of dollars to attempt to scale Everest, the highest peak in the world. Captain Randy Bittinger, a spokesman for the Fairfax County Fire and Rescue Department in suburban Virginia, told FP recently that an emergency response team from his department — including 57 of task force workers and six canine handlers — was dispatched to Nepal to assist U.S. efforts there.
Gordon Janow, director of programs at Alpine Ascents International, a Seattle-based company that hosts ascents to Everest’s peak, said his organization donated food and medical supplies already in Nepal to rescue efforts.
“We’ve got a host of supplies at Base Camp from the expeditions,” he said. “A lot of people walked out [of Everest base camp] and a lot of people who needed help got evacuated.”
Other countries, including India and China, are also sending relief workers and supplies to Nepal. The government in Kathmandu, rotted by years of corruption, is struggling to adequately respond to the scale of the disaster, the worst earthquake in Nepal since 1934.
The Defense Department calls its efforts in Nepal “Operation Sahayogi Haat.” According to a recent news release, a team of 300 and a series of military aircraft are conducting relief operations there, working with USAID to deliver 50 tons of relief supplies and transport people out of disaster zones. The service members involved in the operation are stationed at the U.S. military base at Okinawa, Japan.
Photo Credit: Roberto Schmidt/AFP
This report is for media and the general public.
SUMMARY
Kamensk-Shakhtinskiy, Russian Federation. The Observer Mission (OM) continues to operate 24/7 at both BCPs. The overall cross-border traffic decreased at both Border Crossing Points (BCPs).
DETAIL
OM’s staff composition
The OM is currently operating with 20 staff members, consisting of 19 permanent international observers (incl. the Chief Observer) and one first-responder who is performing duties of an administrative assistant. Five staff members are currently on leave.
Cross-border movements common to both BCPs
The profile of the people crossing the border remains unchanged and can be categorised as follows:
As compared to last week, the average number of entries/exits decreased overall from 7,542 to 7,126 per day for both BCPs; the average net flow went from minus 305 (i.e. more exits from the Russian Federation) to plus 386 (i.e. more entries to the Russian Federation). The Donetsk BCP continued to experience more traffic than the Gukovo BCP. The cross-border movements registered at both BCPs accounted for over 32 percent of all entries/exits in the Rostov region. The majority of the vehicles crossing the border have number plates issued in the Luhansk region, including an increasing number of articulated trucks and the long-distance coaches commuting between Luhansk and cities in the Russian Federation, predominantly in the Rostov region.
Common observations at the BCPs
The situation at both BCPs remained calm. The OM continued to observe that the Russian Federation border guard and customs service conducted checks and controls.
Regular local and long-distance bus connections continued to operate between the Luhansk region and cities in the Russian Federation. In addition to regular bus connections, the Observer Teams (OTs) also continued to observe bus connections on irregular routes. Often the buses do not state their route; instead they just have a sign in the window saying “Irregular”.
During the reporting period, the number of men and women in military-style dress crossing the border in both directions increased from 319 to 381 at both BCPs. These people have been crossing individually or in groups and on foot or in vehicles. Approximately ninety percent of border crossings occurred at the Donetsk BCP. The OTs have observed that recently persons in military-style dress have been travelling by bus across the border which makes it more difficult for the OTs to observe their movement across the border. The OTs also have observed an increasing number of physically fit young men in civilian clothing with short haircuts who often have camo-colored bags.
Furthermore, the OTs continued to observe Ukrainian vehicles including articulated trucks with “DPR/LPR” stickers on their license plates replacing the Ukrainian flag.
During the reporting week the OM continued to observe an increased number of trucks crossing the border in both directions. The OTs continued to observe dumper trucks transporting coal from the Luhansk region to the Russian Federation through the BCP Gukovo. The OTs observed intense trailer truck traffic at BCP Donetsk crossing the border in both directions. While majority of the trucks are registered in Luhansk oblast, during the reporting period the OTs have also observed trucks registered in Belarus and Lithuania cross the border. The OTs also observed tanker trucks crossing the border both ways. These crossings occurred at both BCPs. These trucks for the most part had the word “Propane” and “Flammable” written across the tanks in Russian.
Military movement
At the two BCPs the OM did not observe military movement, apart from the usual vehicles of the Russian Federation Border Guard Service.
Observation at the Gukovo BCP
The traffic flow at the Gukovo BCP decreased compared to last week. A daily average of 2,178 entries and exits was recorded, which accounted for exactly ten percent of all entries/exits in the Rostov region. The net flow went from plus 14 to plus 162 (i.e. more entries to the Russian Federation) on average per day.
During the week, the OM observed a total of 38 persons in military-style clothing crossing the border at the Gukovo BCP, 18 of whom left for Ukraine while 20 entered the Russian Federation.
As in previous weeks, the OM observed dumper trucks transporting coal from the Luhansk region to the Russian Federation though the intensity of the transportation has significantly decreased during the reporting week. As reported previously, the observers saw Russian Federation customs officers verifying that the trucks were empty while leaving the Russian Federation.
In addition to the above-mentioned tanker trucks with the word “Propane” and “Flammable”, the OT observed an unusual number of orange articulated fuel trucks crossing at the Gukovo BCP. On one morning eleven of these trucks were lined up at the entrance of the BCP waiting to cross into Ukraine. Such movement of fuel trucks has not been seen before.
The OTs picked up on the sound of trains running down the train tracks located approximately 150 meters south west of the BCP on twelve occasions during the reporting week; the OTs estimated that seven trains were going to Ukraine; five were bound for the Russian Federation. Visual observation was not possible because of the line of trees in between the train tracks and the BCP.
On May 9 at 16:17 the OT heard approximately 20 assault rifle shots fired in short bursts; the sound came from the west. At 22:36 on the same day the OT heard small arms shots, single and in series, for about 25 seconds coming from direction north-west; the shots were chaotic in their nature. About an hour later the OT once again heard small arms shots, single and in series, for about 10 seconds coming from the same direction.
Observation at the Donetsk BCP
During the reporting period the activity at the Donetsk BCP decreased compared to last week. The daily average of 4,947 entries and exits accounted for just under twenty three percent of all entries/exits in the Rostov region. The net flow changed from minus 319 (i.e. more exiting from Russian Federation) to plus 224 (i.e. more entries to the Russian Federation) on average per day. The OT observed 343 persons in military-style clothing crossing the border at the Donetsk BCP individually and in groups; 162 persons entered the Russian Federation while 181 left for Ukraine.
Two ambulances were observed at the BCP Donetsk during the reporting period. On one occasion an ambulance arrived from the Russian Federation side to pick up middle aged lady who felt unwell at the BCP. No injured or wounded persons were observed in the other ambulance.
During the reporting period the OT observed a minivan with a white A4 format paper that had Gruz 200 (“Cargo 200” which is a well-known Russian military code used for “military personnel killed in action”) written on it. No coffin was observed inside. On another occasion during the reporting week, the OT observed a van with a sign “Funeral Service” in Russian.
Related StoriesSouth Asia, home to one-fifth of the world’s population and growing fast, has undergone major democratic transitions in the past decade. Today, all the countries in the region are governed by democratic systems. With Nepal’s successful toppling of its monarchy a decade ago and Pakistan’s transition to democracy from military rule, the portents have never been so encouraging. Similarly, Afghanistan, the victim of perennial conflict, is also moving towards democratic governance and reform. These developments are ground-breaking given the turbulent history of the region.
Yet, on one vital test of democracy — freedom of the press — the region is lagging. Between 2013 and 2015, South Asia remained one of the most repressed regions for journalists. According to Reporters without Borders, which publishes a press freedom annual index ranking 180 countries based on the freedom granted to members of the press, countries in South Asia rank discouragingly low.
Most of the countries in South Asia have scores in the bottom two tiers on the press freedom index. In the 2015 index, South Asian countries remained fairly stagnant from previous years: Pakistan ranked at 159th place; Bangladesh was ranked 146th; Sri Lanka was ranked 165th; and the Maldives was ranked at 112th place.
The working environment for journalists somewhat improved in India, Nepal, and Afghanistan. India’s ranking improved from 140th place in 2014 to 136th in 2015, Nepal improved its ranking to 105th place from 120th place, and Afghanistan showed some improvement by earning 122nd place in 2015, up from 128th place.
Media freedoms are under attack in most countries in the region. Ahmede Hussain, head of The Daily Star Books in Bangladesh, in an interview with the author said: “In the last few years, three television channels have been banned and the editor of the right wing Daily Amar Desh [My Country] was imprisoned.” Hussain added: “Senior leaders of the ruling party quite openly threaten, sometimes in the parliament, to take action against the independent media for running reports that do not run in their favor.” At least four bloggers in Bangladesh were killed during the last two years for their views on the country, with the latest occurring just yesterday, and impunity persists despite nationwide protests.
The situation in Sri Lanka is even more worrisome. During 2014, the government pressed the media to not report the violence against Muslims in the country’s southwest. Those who ventured to cover the sectarian clashes had their equipment destroyed or were physically attacked. Furthermore, the government-supported paramilitary groups were accused of murdering a newspaper journalist, Aiyathurai Nadesan, in Batticaloa. On the positive side, the newly-elected president, Maithripala Sirisena, promised to end repression in his January 2015 acceptance speech, hopefully reversing some of the past trends.
Pakistan remains most inexplicable. Despite the explosion of private media in the past decade, press freedoms have drastically reversed since the beginning of the decade. In 2002, Pakistan ranked 119th but dropped to 150th place only two years later. In a recent interview, Pakistan’s prominent journalist Hamid Mir (who took six bullets to his body last year for highlighting human rights abuses) said: “I am still under threat. I am using a bulletproof vehicle these days and move with private guards… I am not touching some sensitive issues these days.” Two private television channels were suspended in 2014 for bringing national institutions into disrepute and dozens of journalists faced threats to their lives, especially in conflict zones such as the southwestern province of Balochistan and the tribal regions bordering Afghanistan. Mir’s conclusion is worth noting, he said: “Pakistani media are losing their freedom very fast… If media will lose their freedom, then there will be no democracy and if there will be no democracy it will be difficult for the state of Pakistan to survive.”
In the Maldives, journalists brave high-handed tactics by state authorities and violent gangs. Last August, a local journalist, Ahmed Rilwan Abdulla, was abducted by unknown persons, and remains missing.
While India has much to celebrate on the evolution of its democratic system, recent press trends are disconcerting. Journalists in India face multiple pressure points. Sumit Galhotra of the Committee to Protect Journalists told the author: “The state has been clamping down on media freedoms and engaging in flagrant censorship. The Modi government’s recent ban on Al Jazeera and documentaries like India’s Daughter are prime examples.” At the same time, Galhotra said: “Journalists are being threatened and silenced by various non-state actors that include religious and political groups, criminal elements, and corporate houses.”
For the world’s largest democracy, it is disconcerting to hear senior investigative journalists saying that big businesses handing out legal notices has become standard practice in the country.
In Nepal, journalists continue to face peculiar hurdles. While the recent conviction and sentencing of the mastermind in journalist Uma Singh’s murder marks a step in the right direction towards addressing the culture of impunity, Nepal still has a long way to go in fostering a safe and secure environment for journalists. Not unlike other countries, self-censorship is rife.
While the situation in Afghanistan may be improving (Afghanistan is up six spots from last year), challenges to journalists remain. Last year, local and foreign journalists came under attack while covering the presidential elections while foreign journalists were shot by a police officer in Khost.
The majority of South Asians are young, below the age of 30, participating in communications revolution via new media. Digital freedoms have also come under threat in recent years, despite low levels of internet penetration. In Bangladesh, the government arrested a shopkeeper for lampooning the country’s leadership on Facebook, and in Pakistan, a parliamentary committee has approved a draconian draft bill that will curtail online freedoms. In India, the Supreme Court in March struck down a clause of the Information Technology Act that made publishing offensive online material punishable by three years in jail but upheld the government’s right to block websites after following due procedure.
None of the countries in the region are ranked as “free” by the global watchdog Freedom House. Only India, Nepal, and the Maldives are categorized partly free, while the remaining is placed in the “not free” category. (Civil and political liberties and media freedoms are inherent to Freedom House rankings.)
Democracy is not limited to elections, nor does the existence of a parliament ensure citizens’ freedoms. The right to information is central to a democratic polity and muzzling of freedoms of the press endangers the region’s democratic gains made in recent years. International rights groups need to work closely with their local counterparts in tracking the abuses and alerting the international community as authoritarian forces struggle with the aspirations of a young, restive population that seeks more transparency.
AAMIR QURESHI/AFP/Getty Images
Hogy a geopolitikára milyen hatásai lesznek, az még nem teljesen ismert, de hogy a nemrégiben bejelentett hír, mely szerint Kína katonai támaszpontot fog kialakítani Afrika szarván, Dzsibutiban, egyértelműen azt mutatja, hogy az ázsiai nagyhatalom tovább szeretné növelni jelenlétét a fekete kontinensen és katonai jelenléttel szeretné biztosítani kelet-afrikai és indiai-óceáni érdekeltségeit és a hajózási útvonalakat. Ha nem ott lenne, ahol lenne (a Vörös-tenger és a Szuezi-csatorna bejáratánál), akkor a szinte teljes egészében sivatagos kis ország, Dzsibuti rendkívül nehéz sorsú állam lenne, így viszont hasznot tud húzni elhelyezkedéséből, már van itt jelentős amerikai katonai bázis (a Lemonnier, amely további 20 évig még biztosan maradni fog a nemrég megújított szerződés alapján), francia és japán katonai állomáshely is, de rengeteg más ország is használta Dzsibuti kikötőjét a kalózkodás elleni küzdelem során.
A hír akkor röppent fel, amikor a dzsibuti elnök, Ismail Omar Guelleh egy interjúban nemrég bejelentette, hogy tárgyalások folynak Kínával a támaszpont létrehozásáról és hogy az országot jelentősen támogató Peking mindig szívesen látott vendég lesz az állam földjén. Ez pedig különleges pillanat lehet Afrika történelmében, hiszen ez lenne az első kínai katonai támaszpont ezen a kontinensen, ami egyébként valószínűleg akkora nagy felzúdulást nem fog okozni a többi érdekelt fél (USA, Franciaország vagy Etiópia) között, hiszen már 2008 óta elég rendszeresen állomásoznak kínai hadihajók Dzsibutiban – elég nekik az a tény, hogy Kína gazdaságilag milyen léptékben tör előre Afrikában.
Gondoljunk csak bele, Kína és a fekete kontinens 200 milliárd dollár értékben kereskedik, jóval nagyobb mértékben, mint az Egyesült Államok vagy az Európai Unió, ráadásul Kína eddig közel 9 milliárd dollárt költött el Dzsibutiban infrastruktúra-fejlesztésre (nem csoda, hogy 2014-ben a mostani katonai bázis helyének tervezett Obock kikötőjének üzemeltetése teljes egészében egy kínai cég kezébe került), szóval nincs kérdés: pénz beszél. És akkor még arról nem is beszéltünk, hogy Oroszország is hasonló dzsibuti terjeszkedést fontolgat. Omar Guelleh, a dzsibuti elnök amúgy nagyon jól lavírozik a nemzetközi diplomácia keskeny mezsgyéin, május ötödikén például, nem sokkal a mostani bejelentése előtt az Egyesült Államokban találkozott Barack Obamával, ahol hivatalosan is bejelentették a Lemonnier támaszpont bérletének meghosszabbítását és az eddigi éves bérleti díj 63 millió dollárra emelését – Obama szerint ezzel az emeléssel akarják kifejezni hálájukat a dzsibuti népnek, amiért befogadta az amerikaiakat.
Emellett még azt is kiemelte Obama, hogy hamarosan a kongresszus elé kerül az a javaslat, amely szerint a Lemonnier bázison elsőbbséget élvezzenek foglalkoztatási szempontból a dzsibuti emberek és az elsődleges beszerzési forrás is a kis ország legyen minden lehetséges termékre. Persze úgy is lehet nézni, hogy a kínai tervek ismeretében az Egyesült Államokban szinte létfontosságú érdeke, hogy megőrizze jelenlétét Afrika szarván, így kénytelenek voltak egyezkedni, ha nem akarnának lemaradni a fegyverkezési, terjeszkedési versenyben.
twitter.com/napiafrika
4 ember kedveli ezt a posztot.Tetszett az írás.Tetszett az írás.On an otherwise ordinary night in May 2011, Robert Childs realized his friend, Abu Khalid Abdul-Latif, might be on the verge of becoming a terrorist. The two men, who attended a Seattle mosque together, ate fried chicken at Abdul-Latif’s small apartment with his wife and young son. Afterward, Abdul-Latif walked Childs to the dimly lit parking lot outside his building, where his guest’s orange 1979 Chevy Suburban was sitting. There, he posed a startling question: Could Childs help him get some guns?
Abdul-Latif said he wanted to carry out an attack inspired by the 2009 shooting at Fort Hood, in which Army Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan killed 13 people. But unlike Hasan, who acted alone, he was looking for associates. “I already have a guy that wants to do it, if you want to come in with it,” Childs recalls Abdul-Latif saying.
A skinny white man with close-cropped brown hair, Childs, then 35, had previously boasted to Abdul-Latif about his skill with guns. His father had been a Marine, and Childs had trained with pistols and rifles at a military boarding school. By contrast, 33-year-old Abdul-Latif, who kept his black scalp shaved and beard full, had limited experience with firearms. He’d once held up a 7-Eleven with two plastic toy guns and had served three years in prison for the robbery.
Hoping to drive away quickly, Childs told me, “I didn’t give him a yes or no that night.” He wasn’t going to help his friend, but he was worried about the startling request nonetheless. What if Abdul-Latif committed a crime with guns he got elsewhere? Could Childs be implicated for not informing police about their conversation? A convicted rapist and child molester, Childs had already served three stints behind bars—a total of nine years. Recently released, he was trying to turn over a new leaf.
Childs set up a meeting with Samuel DeJesus, a detective with the Seattle Police Department (SPD) and told him about the encounter. According to Childs, DeJesus asked him whether he would help authorities build a case against Abdul-Latif. “What do you want in return?” DeJesus added. “I wanted my whole record wiped off,” Childs recollects. The SPD, he claims, gave him the impression it could make that happen. (DeJesus declined to comment for this article.)
Within a matter of days, the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) entered the picture. Abdul-Latif had popped up on the bureau’s radar after he posted several videos on YouTube that April and May, showing him criticizing Western society and insisting that peace could never be made with non-Muslims. When the FBI learned about Childs’s information, a result of the SPD’s involvement in a joint homeland security effort with the bureau, agents met with him and said they would be working on the case. Childs was happy to oblige the power move. “If you can’t trust the FBI,” he reasoned, “who can you trust?” And so he became part of the FBI’s post-9/11 counterterrorism apparatus; comprising more than 15,000 informants, it is the largest domestic spying network in U.S. history.
Childs began wearing recording equipment when he met with Abdul-Latif. On June 14, 2011, the FBI gave him a cache of weapons—a grenade, assault rifles, and handguns—that he showed to Abdul-Latif in the back of a car. Childs demonstrated how to switch out magazines and chamber a round. When Childs removed the grenade from a duffel bag, Abdul-Latif seemed amazed. “For real?” he asked, according to an FBI affidavit. “If you throw it, it will blow up?” Pull out the pin, Childs explained—then throw.
A week later, on the evening of June 22, Childs, Abdul-Latif, and a third man, Walli Mujahidh, met at a chop shop to discuss plans to storm the Seattle Military Entrance Processing Station, where fresh-faced Army enlistees report to duty for the first time. (“They are being sent to the front lines to kill our brothers and sisters,” Abdul-Latif had said a few days earlier in a conversation caught on Childs’s recording device.) As Childs was showing his companions how to use FBI-provided M16 assault rifles, the bureau pounced: Agents threw a stun grenade and stormed the room. Abdul-Latif and Mujahidh were arrested.
Although he wasn’t named publicly, Childs was immediately held up as an American hero. “But for the courage of the cooperating witness, and the efforts of multiple agencies working long and intense hours,” Laura Laughlin, the special agent in charge of the FBI’s Seattle office, said in a news release the day after the operation, “the subjects might have been able to carry out their brutal plan.”
Today, Abdul-Latif and Mujahidh are serving 18 and 17 years, respectively, for conspiracy to murder officers and agents of the United States and conspiracy to use weapons of mass destruction. But serious questions have emerged about whether, had it not been for the FBI’s efforts, the two ever would have gotten their hands on the means to commit serious crimes. According to local media and the men’s attorneys, Abdul-Latif had a history of mental problems and attempting suicide. Not long before the bust, he had filed for bankruptcy protection. Mujahidh was a penniless drifter diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder and bipolar tendencies who had done 12 stays at psychiatric hospitals. In other words, they were arguably among the “fragile human beings” whom, according to Karen Greenberg of the Center on National Security at Fordham University’s School of Law, the FBI often targets in stings.
Meanwhile, Childs’s “courage” has been all but forgotten. He says he was paid handsomely for luring Abdul-Latif and Mujahidh, but his criminal record was never expunged. He now lives more than 3,000 miles from Seattle, in Key West, Florida; he is homeless, riding a bicycle around town and sleeping in a secluded spot of mangrove forest near U.S. Highway 1. “I feel just as much a victim of the FBI as Abdul-Latif,” Childs says, smoking a cigarette one afternoon in March 2015 at an outdoor table at a pizza restaurant. He wears a state-provided ankle monitor—a tangible reminder that he is a sex offender.
In the domestic war on terror, the front lines are often manned by unsettled—or unsettling—figures like Childs, criminals and hustlers commissioned by the FBI to pursue equally problematic or susceptible targets. And while the informants hope that their assignments will put money in their pockets, erase their troubled pasts, or both, in many cases the bureau cuts off contact when operations are over.
To protect the homeland, in other words, the FBI exploits bad guys to catch what it claims are worse ones. It’s a dirty 21st-century spy game aptly summarized by a popular saying at the bureau: “To catch the devil, you have to go to hell.”
After the intelligencE failures of 9/11, the White House told the FBI that there should never be another attack on U.S. soil. The bureau’s mission was to find the terrorists before they struck. Al Qaeda, in turn, knew it wouldn’t be easy to again send actors into the United States to launch a coordinated attack. Instead, it moved to what FBI officials describe as a “franchise model”: using online avenues to encourage young Muslims in the West to commit violence. Law enforcement officials view the Fort Hood shooting as a realization of this model. Prior to the attack, Hasan had exchanged emails with Anwar al- Awlaki, the U.S.-born cleric known for posting videos on YouTube advocating violence against America and for masterminding al Qaeda’s slickly designed online magazine, Inspire. (Awlaki was killed in a 2011 drone strike in Yemen.)
Concerns about franchise operations have made American-bred “lone wolf” terrorists the FBI’s new focus. Agents want to catch them just as they make the leap from sympathizer to potential attacker, so the bureau has recruited informants to infiltrate Muslim communities nationwide. Their task: gather information on men who seem interested in violence. Critics, however, allege the intelligence net has been cast even wider. In 2011, the American Civil Liberties Union brought suit against the FBI for instructing an informant in Southern California “not to target any particular individuals they believed were involved in criminal activity, but to gather as much information as possible on members of the Muslim community, and to focus on people who were more devout in their religious practice.”
In many cases, the FBI has directed informants to pose as terrorists and to provide both the means—weapons, for instance—and opportunities for targets to participate in plots. Arrests often follow: According to Human Rights Watch, nearly half of the more than 500 terrorism-related cases brought in federal courts between Sept. 11, 2011, and July 2014 involved informants, and about 30 percent placed informants in roles where they actively helped foment terrorism schemes.
Rights activists have accused the FBI of using informants to manufacture terrorists in order to demonstrate the bureau’s effectiveness and justify its $3.3 billion annual counterterrorism budget. Human Rights Watch has noted that investigations “have targeted individuals who do not appear to have been involved in terrorist plotting or financing at the time the government began to investigate them” and that some efforts have been aimed at “particularly vulnerable individuals (including people with intellectual and mental disabilities and the indigent).”
Among these individuals is James Cromitie, a broke Wal-Mart employee with a history of mental problems whom an FBI informant offered $250,000 to bomb synagogues and shoot down military supply planes in New York. Another informant convinced Rezwan Ferdaus, a young American of Bangladeshi background, to engage in a plot to bomb the Capitol. When he was arrested, Ferdaus was being treated for mental illness. FBI agents tracking Sami Osmakac—a Kosovo-born man with schizoaffective disorder now serving 40 years for planning attacks in Tampa, Florida—were caught on record describing him as a “retarded fool” whose aspirations to commit violence were “wishy-washy.”
The FBI isn’t just taking advantage of its targets’ vulnerabilities, however. It is also capitalizing on informants’ weaknesses and, in many cases, turning a blind eye to their own crimes. When he started working for the bureau, Shahed Hussain, the informant in the Cromitie case, had been convicted of fraud for providing driver’s licenses to illegal U.S. residents and was trying to avoid deportation to Pakistan, where he faced a murder charge. Hussain was paid $98,000 for spying and was also spared an indictment for bankruptcy fraud. The informant in the Ferdaus case, identified in court records only as “Khalil,” had a heroin habit and was caught shoplifting while wearing a wire. The man who spied on Osmakac, a Palestinian- American named Abdul Raouf Dabus, was facing foreclosure proceedings on his business and house in Florida when he worked for the FBI and was paid $20,000.
Other informants have included fraud artists, drug dealers, and a bodybuilder turned con man. A 2013 USA Today investigation found that the FBI allowed informants to break the law 5,658 times in a single calendar year. “It’s the irony of informants,” says James Wedick, a former FBI supervisory agent. “You can’t trust these guys.… But when we put these informants in front of judges and juries, we simply say, ‘You can trust him. He’s with us.’”
With his rocky criminal past, Childs fit right in among this inauspicious FBI crew.
Robert Childs was born in Indianapolis in 1976 to Jackie, a nurse, and Robert Sr., who had served in Vietnam. The two separated shortly after their son was born, and Childs lived with his father and stepmother, Mary Fleenor. According to both Fleenor and Childs, Robert Sr. was abusive. “He had beat me so bad, I could not sit down,” Childs recalls of one encounter with his father.
At 16, Childs set out on his own, winding up in California, where he says he earned his GED diploma. He later hitchhiked to the town of Issaquah, Washington. But he wasn’t there for long before getting into trouble: In October 1994, a woman contacted the police, alleging that Childs had raped her 14-year-old daughter. According to a statement made by the victim, Childs met the girl at a local arcade, went home with her, and forced himself on her while repeating the words, “It’ll be all right.” Childs was convicted and spent six months in jail, followed by a year on probation.
A second offense occurred not long after. In 1996, Childs, who by then was 20, met a 15-year-old girl at a mall in Seattle. According to police, the pair went to a park and fondled each other. The girl’s mother filed a report, and Childs later pleaded guilty to child molestation.
Back in prison, Childs befriended a white Muslim inmate and decided to convert. “[Islam] made sense to me at the time,” he says. He studied the Quran relentlessly: “When I do something, I go full blow.” He also admits to adopting a militant religious attitude. He avoided associating with anyone who wasn’t Muslim, and he and his new friends discussed atrocities committed against Muslims around the world, particularly in Chechnya, where Islamic fighters were resisting Russian control.
After he was released in 1998, Childs settled in Seattle and married a woman named Jo. He says he started a cleaning business and acquired clients that included a car dealership, dentist, and culinary school. Childs didn’t have employees, but he brought people on as independent contractors if he had more work than he could handle.
Sometimes, Childs gave jobs to Abu Khalid Abdul-Latif, whom he says he knew because the two men’s wives were friendly. Abdul-Latif didn’t have cleaning experience, but it didn’t matter: He was a Muslim. “It was about keeping business and money within the community,” Childs says.
In February 2007, Childs’s marriage was falling apart, and he decided to fulfill a long-held desire to fight for Islam. Being a mujahid, he believed, was the “highest plane” he could reach. Childs says he sold his business to Abdul-Latif and headed toward Chechnya, by way of Turkey. He wound up in the Turkish city of Malatya, where (to his surprise) he became friends with a German Christian missionary named Tilman Geske. But in April 2007, he says, tragedy struck: Geske and two other missionaries were tortured and killed by five Muslim men. According to media that covered the incident, a note left at the scene of the crime read, “This should serve as a lesson to the enemies of our religion. We did it for our country.”
Childs was distraught. He was no longer interested in fighting in Chechnya or anywhere else. “Do I want to be this person?” Childs considered. “Do I want to be known as a killer?”
When he returned to the United States, Jo was living in California, so Childs followed her there in hopes of repairing their marriage. But he was arrested for failing to register as a sex offender and spent three more years behind bars. Afterward, he made his way back to Seattle, where he started working at a dive shop. Although his religious fervor had waned, Childs attended a local mosque—and it was there, one day in early 2011, that he ran into his old friend Abdul-Latif.
Childs says his first meeting with the FBI took place in an industrial area of south Seattle, where police kept and maintained fleet cars. “The FBI interviewed me, questioned me about Abdul-Latif and his motives,” Childs says. When a deal to have his criminal record expunged came up, he claims “nothing was made out to be any different” from what it had been in his earlier conversation with the SPD’s DeJesus.
According to Childs, however, DeJesus approached him privately and urged him not to trust the bureau. The detective said the agents were interested in what the case could do for them, not in holding up their end of any bargain. “This case is what they call a career-maker,” Childs remembers DeJesus saying.
Childs dismissed the warning and recorded many hours of conversations with Abdul-Latif from June 6 to June 22, 2011. “If we gonna die, we gotta die taking some kafirs with us,” Abdul- Latif said at one point, referring to non-Muslims. Once Mujahidh, a friend of Abdul-Latif, was in the mix, Childs recorded him too. At dinner on June 21, Mujahidh asked about the plot to attack the military processing center: “So we are going in and killing everybody?” Childs said they would only kill anyone “in green” or with a military haircut. “This is my way of getting rid of sins, man,” Mujahidh said, according to government documents. “I got so many of ’em.”
Before the FBI raid, Childs told Abdul-Latif and Mujahidh that the site—the chop shop—was owned by a Muslim. He says that officials placed a Quran on a table inside the facility to make the story a little more believable.
After the arrests, Childs says he was congratulated on a job well done and was told to wait in an interrogation room at a Seattle law enforcement office. He recollects FBI agents coming in to give him updates—for instance, “Mujahidh is singing like a bird.” Childs was excited but also scared: “I do remember asking very specifically, ‘Nobody’s gonna know it was me, right?’”
Less than a week later, Childs says the FBI called him to set up a meeting. Agents picked him up at home and, inside a sedan with tinted windows, told him there was nothing they could do about his record. “You should be happy you did this as a citizen,” he recalls them saying. “That should be reward enough.” Childs claims DeJesus pressured the bureau to do better. At a subsequent meeting, agents told him they could offer money. Childs says they agreed on $100,000; a sentencing memorandum compiled by Abdul-Latif’s defense counsel describes Childs’s payoff as being approximately this amount. (The FBI declined to comment, citing a “longstanding policy of not commenting on sources, methods and techniques.”)
Childs says he wound up receiving $90,000 in installments over several months. But it quickly disappeared. A friend stole about $30,000 of the money, Childs claims, and he dropped another $20,000 on a boat and even more on a new Ford Excursion in which he installed expensive stereo equipment. “I got carried away,” he admits.
At the same time, Childs says he kept working as an informant with the SPD. He was gathering information on local anti-war protesters until one day his name and mug shot appeared in the Seattle Times, associated with the Abdul-Latif case. He suspects FBI agents leaked it because the money issue had made his relationship with the bureau tense.
“All of a sudden, my name goes everywhere,” Childs recalls. With information about his sex offenses in the news, he felt that the “hero” part of his identity went “completely out the window.”
Childs isn’t the first informant to feel abandoned by the FBI. Mohamed Alanssi, a Yemeni national, helped agents investigate Brooklyn’s hawaladars—underground Muslim money brokers—and Sheikh Mohammed Ali Hassan al-Moayad, who the bureau believed was raising funds for al Qaeda in New York. On Nov. 15, 2004, Alanssi faxed letters to the FBI in New York and to the Washington Post. He said his handler would not let him travel to Yemen to see his sick wife, and that he feared testifying as an informant would endanger his family. “Why you don’t care about my life and my family’s life?” Alanssi wrote in one of the letters. That afternoon, dressed in a suit soaked with gasoline, Alanssi set himself on fire outside the gates of the White House. Secret Service agents put out the flames, but not before 30 percent of his body had been burned.
In another case, Craig Monteilh—the bodybuilder turned con man, and the informant in the American Civil Liberties Union’s 2011 case—spent months spying on mosques while pretending to be a convert to Islam named Farouk al-Aziz. In December 2007, police in Irvine, California, charged him with stealing $157,000 from two women as part of a scam to buy and sell human growth hormone. Monteilh later claimed FBI agents instructed him to plead guilty in order to protect his cover; in exchange, the charges would eventually be removed from his record. In a 2010 lawsuit against the FBI, however, Monteilh alleged that the bureau reneged on its promises. He later dropped the suit after agreeing to what he terms a “confidential settlement.”
The FBI often seems quick to wash its hands of trouble that informants cause or allegations they raise. But no matter how murky or embarrassing an informant’s involvement in a case is, it rarely hampers an agent’s or handler’s career. Steve Tidwell, who supervised Monteilh’s operation, retired from the bureau and is now a managing director for former FBI Director Louis Freeh’s private security firm. There’s also former agent Ali Soufan, whose book about 9/11 and al Qaeda, The Black Banners, was a New York Times best-seller. Today, he runs a multinational private security company. One of the informants Soufan supervised was Saeed Torres, the subject of a new documentary, (T)ERROR, which won a Special Jury Award at the 2015 Sundance Film Festival. The movie depicts Torres, a former Black Panther and convict, as destitute and angry after being involved in sting operations that some critics have described as entrapment.
In one scene, Torres tells the filmmakers, “The government will use you, and they will drop your ass like a hot motherfuckin’ stone.”
After being exposed in the newspaper, Childs decided he couldn’t stay in the Pacific Northwest. He headed east, stopping briefly in Indianapolis to visit his stepmother, and then kept going until he reached Key West in October 2013. He rented a room and landed bartending gigs. In July 2014, however, the manager of a local Johnny Rockets restaurant told police that Childs, a former employee, had rung up five transactions totaling $863.11 on a stolen American Express card. Officers quickly realized Childs was a sex offender who hadn’t registered since arriving in Florida. When they arrested him, according to a police report, Childs claimed “he was hiding from a previous case he worked with detectives in Seattle, Wash.”
After learning of Childs’s arrest, DeJesus petitioned authorities to offer leniency. “For all intents and purposes, Robert Childs was a hero,” DeJesus wrote in an email to prosecutors, obtained from Florida authorities through an information request. Ultimately, Childs pleaded guilty to credit card fraud and no contest to failing to register as a sex offender. He agreed to be designated a “sexual predator,” was given time served, and got out of jail this January.
By then, his name had gotten around Key West—a small, gossipy town—and the room he’d been renting was no longer available. He says none of the bars on Duval Street, Key West’s main drag, would hire him. He claimed his address as under a highway overpass and started going to a Burger King almost daily to charge his ankle monitor.
When he began working for the FBI, Childs thought he was saddling up with white knights. That is no longer the case. “They get people who are vulnerable and desperate,” Childs says of the bureau’s informant program. “We are led to believe we can trust the FBI. I have no trust for them.… The public shouldn’t either.”
There’s no doubt that Amos Yee’s depiction of Singapore’s late founder Lee Kuan Yew in carnal embrace with former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher is somewhat lewd. The Singaporean teenager’s creation, which pastes Lee and Thatcher’s faces onto a women’s health website’s line drawing of what might be called an energetic sex position, falls far outside of usual Singaporean political discourse, which is hemmed in by severe sedition, defamation, and obscenity laws.
On Tuesday, a Singaporean court convicted Yee on obscenity charges related to that drawing and a series of statements that the court deemed offensive to Christians. Yee is now on probation and will be subject to a sentencing hearing in June. He still could face three years in prison.
A closing statement filed by Yee’s lawyers argued that the dirty Lee-Thatcher picture “is not a pornographic image, either calculated to (or in fact tending to) arouse the Likely Viewers of the Image or turn them toward trying this particular sex position.”
After Lee’s death in March, Singapore entered a period of national mourning that the 16-year-old Yee challenged with a gleeful video published four days after the former premier’s death. In the video, titled “Lee Kuan Yew Is Finally Dead!” Yee compares the dead leader to Jesus and says both men were “power-hungry and malicious but deceive others into thinking that they are compassionate and kind.”
On Monday, Judge Jasvender Kaur said Yee’s online activities should meet the “strongest possible disapproval and condemnation.” But due to his young age, he will be released on probation for $7,500 in bail on the condition that he take down his offending posts.
Yee’s case has emerged as a symbol of Singapore’s harsh restrictions on freedom of speech, but in his home country, Yee remains a controversial figure whom many Singaporeans believe deserves punishment.
Why would people want to support amos yee? Insulting a religion is not free speech
— Hani (هانى) (@allesandria) May 12, 2015
I'm not encouraging people to attack Amos Yee..but…okla I feel he deserves it still..at least once.
— ED.shiliang (@shilianglim) April 30, 2015
On Monday, a Singaporean court sentenced Neo Gim Huah, a 49-year-old man offended by Yee’s pranks, to three weeks in jail after he slapped the teenager at one of his court appearances.
Others think the foul-mouthed teenager with the scratchy voice has captured something fundamental – and troubling – about Singaporean culture’s hive-mindedness and narrow ideas of what’s acceptable.
All this petty persecution of AmosYee really shows how immature and inexperienced the SG public, media and govt are in handling free speech.
— yt (@wanderwegg) May 7, 2015
After his conviction, Yee told reporters that he was “conflicted.” “I don’t know if I should celebrate my release or mourn my sentence,” he said.
ROSLAN RAHMAN/AFP/Getty Images