The Wall Street Journal Europe, op-ed page
March 30, 2000
Spies
Like Us
By
Kenneth Neil Cukier
Every now and then the issue of "friendly spying" -- the practice of snooping among allied countries -- hits the media, causing a little uproar that usually dies down fast. Now the pot has been stirred again by reports that the U.S. and Britain spy on Europe using an extensive surveillance system called "Echelon." The European Parliament, which last month issued a report on Echelon, is scheduled to hear testimony today from the European Commission and representatives of member-state governments on the matter. The Parliament is also likely to establish a special investigative committee next month.
Of course, U.S. monitoring of communications abroad has long been
a well-established fact. During the Cold War, many a Warsaw Pact communique
landed on the U.S. president's desk the morning after it was issued. Today,
U.S. officials claim the eavesdropping is aimed at more modern threats to
security, such as terrorism and drug trafficking, though a former head of the
CIA has admitted that it's also used to stop bribing by European companies. The
Europeans suspect it is also used to help U.S. companies gain a competitive
edge abroad.
Missing from the allegations, however, is one overlooked aspect of
the debate surrounding friendly spying, namely, who else does the same thing?
The short answer is everyone, to varying degrees of magnitude and success. A
more specific answer is France.
Call it "Frenchelon": An international system of spy
satellites and surveillance stations spread throughout France and its overseas
territories that systematically eavesdrops on communications traffic in the
U.S. and elsewhere. Monitoring stations reportedly exist in French Guyana, New
Caledonia, and the United Arab Emirates, in addition to four points in mainland
France and Corsica. The country admits such technology exists and that it
regularly performs international surveillance activities, although it claims
the system is aimed at preventing security threats such as international
terrorism.
Although we do not know the official name of
"Frenchelon," one French intelligence official familiar with the
operation privately confirmed that the program does exist, but on a
"vastly smaller scale" than Echelon. The French system intercepts
roughly two million messages per month, compared with Echelon's "billions
of messages per hour" as Duncan Campbell, the author of the European
Parliament's study, claims. (The French official put Echelon's interceptions
significantly under that amount, at around three million messages per minute.)
Part of the momentum propelling "Frenchelon" along is
France's fear of the U.S.'s overwhelming superiority in surveillance
capabilities. The French intelligence establishment has made no secret of its
outrage that the country depends on U.S. surveillance information, as in the
case of U.S. satellite imagery during the conflicts in Kosovo and Iraq. What's
more, French politicians have continually voiced suspicion about U.S. espionage
within its borders. The country went so far as to reverse its long-standing ban
on encryption technology last year partly as a measure to protect French
corporate data from the prying eyes of other nations.
But "Frenchelon" may not be France's alone. The
espionage system could well serve as the start of a program for pan-European
intelligence cooperation, intended to counter-balance the Anglo-American
Echelon. Such high-tech spy gadgetry is expensive, and a single country like
France lacks the financial means to foot the bill itself. Germany is said
partially to fund France's surveillance initiative in return for access to the
information it collects. It shouldn't come as a surprise, considering that the
two countries already cooperate on military reconnaissance satellites systems.
If everybody is guilty of friendly spying to a greater or lesser
extent, the question becomes what happens to the information that is retrieved.
James Woolsey, director of the Central Intelligence Agency from 1993 to 1995,
recently acknowledged in these pages that the U.S. regularly collects economic
information in cases such as commercial bribery and overseeing the sale of
so-called "dual-use" technologies that have both civilian and
military applications, like supercomputers. As for passing along trade secrets
to American firms, Mr. Woolsey dismissed the idea: "most European
technology," he wrote, "just isn't worth stealing."
Despite such denials -- or perhaps because of them -- the
Europeans remain irked. The French, poised to investigate "Echelon"
with a commission of their own, are quick to recall that in December 1995 a
number of U.S. Embassy personnel were expelled from France under accusations of
spying during a period of French-U.S. trade negotiations. Two years later, a
U.S. official was forced to leave Germany under a similar cloud of suspicion.
As for the French, it's not as clear what happens to the data once
it's intercepted. According to Jean Guisnel, a respected journalist covering
intelligence activities for the French weekly Le Point , the information
obtained from "Frenchelon" goes directly to the heads of French
companies, who share cozy relations with the state. And in terms of economic
espionage in general, France has been a prime suspected violator for some time.
Now that the broad question about Echelon has been raised,
European countries will likely prefer to handle it on a bilateral
inter-governmental basis with the U.S. and Britain, where their ability to
influence policy is stronger than among the media microphones at the European
Parliament. In fact, the Parliament is prevented from addressing issues of
national security, which is why all the complaints about Echelon have focused
on privacy rights and the economic consequences, where the Parliament does have
jurisdiction. Once the national-security card is played, the Parliament will be
forced to stand down.
Yet to some degree, Echelon will not follow the trend of other
friendly spying incidents; it can never be shunted away entirely. Fueled on by
the Parliament's committee of inquiry, the issue will linger, providing ample
fodder for privacy advocates to raise the important questions about how
advanced technologies threaten individual freedom. But as Europeans beat their
breasts about Echelon, they might do well to look up to the heavens and
consider that France, among others, watches and listens to them too.
______________
Mr. Cukier is international editor for Red Herring magazine,
which covers technology and business.