Tuesday 20 Nov 2001

www.dailytelegraph.com/opinion

Suppose we won the war but lost our freedom

By Robert Harris

News: Judgment day for law against blasphemy

ONE evening in August 1942, as Adolf Hitler took dinner with his 
staff, his thoughts turned to the likely shape of the world after a 
German victory. Could this empire of his actually endure? He was 
confident it would: "People sometimes say to me: 'Be careful! You 
will have 20 years of guerrilla warfare on your hands!' I am 
delighted at the prospect! . . . Germany will remain in a state of 
perpetual alertness."

This remark, contained in Hitler's Table Talk, made a great 
impression on me when I first read it 15 years ago (I used it as an 
epigraph to my novel Fatherland) and it has acquired still greater 
resonance since September 11. At the moment, Western leaders are 
talking about a campaign against terror that might last 50 years; 
Hitler guessed that the Third Reich's struggle to suppress terrorism 
would last even longer: "We may have a hundred years of struggle 
before us; if so, all the better - it will prevent us from going to 
sleep!"

Obviously, there isn't much comparison between Hitler's definition of 
terrorism and ours. He was envisaging a threat emerging from those 
nations that he had conquered in the East and subsequently filled 
with German settlers. And his police methods would have been 
immensely more brutal than those of America: the Luftwaffe wouldn't 
exactly have been dropping peanut butter and chocolate bars over its 
target zones, and Ribbentrop certainly wouldn't have been working 
night and day to restore a democratic government.

Nevertheless, there is a slight sense - how can one put it 
delicately? - that the Führer was on to something. All governments, 
be they elected or imposed, strive ceaselessly to maximise their 
power, and never is this more easily done than during wartime. In 
Britain, as A J P Taylor observed in English History 1914-1945, this 
process began during the First World War, when "the state established 
a hold over its citizens which, though relaxed in peacetime, was 
never to be removed and which the Second World War was again to 
increase".

Terrorist wars are, if anything, even more insidious, for there is 
never any definite victory after which pre-war conditions can once 
again prevail. The conflict is endless: populations, in Hitler's 
lip-smacking phrase, must always "remain in a state of perpetual 
alertness". If the Government's proposed new powers of arrest and 
detention, interception and suppression are pushed through, we may 
take it as absolutely certain that the rights that are being taken 
away will never be restored. That is the lesson not only of 1914 and 
1939, but of 1911 (the Official Secrets Act) and 1974 (the Prevention 
of Terrorism Act).

All this comes at what may be a turning-point in human history. One 
of the most successful weapons of the Afghan war is something called 
a Predator UAV (unmanned aerial vehicle), operated not by the 
American military but by the CIA. This missile-armed, pilotless spy 
plane flies quietly and slowly through enemy airspace and transmits 
pictures back to US Central Command in Florida and to the CIA 
headquarters in Virginia.

It was a Predator that, on the first night of the war, took a 
photograph of Mullah Omar's car fleeing Kabul (a photograph of the 
numberplate was later dropped over Taliban positions as part of 
America's psychological warfare operations). It was also a Predator, 
we are told, that last week followed Osama bin Laden's deputy, 
Muhammed Atef, to a hotel where he met the senior leadership of 
al-Qa'eda. CIA officials watched the pictures, waited until everyone 
was inside, and then called up three F-15s to destroy the hotel.

The point here is not the destruction of Mr Atef and his chums, for 
whom few need shed a tear, but the sophistication of American 
technology, of which the Predator is but one example. Total 
surveillance cover, the ability to intercept every satellite phone 
call (and, in the West, every cell phone conversation, too), 
infra-red imaging, computerised voice- and image-recognition, 
near-instantaneous data retrieval - whatever is going on in 
Afghanistan, it is certainly not the sort of war we are used to. 
Every commentator on this conflict - and I write as one who supports 
it - seems to have got it wrong. What's frightening isn't the 
prospect of the Americans becoming bogged down, as in Vietnam; what's 
frightening is the almost contemptuous ease with which they are 
winning it.

And what can be done on the battlefield can be done with equal 
efficiency on the home front. I do not mean that David Blunkett 
intends to have Predators cruising up and down above British 
motorways (although I wouldn't put it past him), but rather that the 
new technologies have the potential to destroy human privacy, and the 
Government now means to exploit the situation under cover of fighting 
terrorism.

For example, the proposed emergency regulations will oblige Internet 
service providers to keep details of all their customers' Internet 
traffic and email messages and pass them to the police, for criminal 
as well as terrorist investigations. At the same time, confidential 
records collected by one branch of government will now be made 
available to other investigators.

Minor matters, you might think. But add this to all the other 
Orwellian manifestations of modern life (DNA testing, surveillance 
cameras, computerised credit card transactions: the list is at once 
trivial and overwhelming), add it to the erosion of individual 
liberty that has been the pattern of the past 87 years, and add it, 
finally, to the prevailing atmosphere of war hysteria, and one has a 
recipe for a kind of technological totalitarianism.

It would be a peculiar paradox if, supposedly in defence of the 
supreme Western ideal of personal freedom, we allowed the creation of 
a society in which personal freedom was permitted only under Home 
Office licence. Yet such may be the price of our "state of perpetual 
alertness".

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