It was a slow week at our local B&N, a while back when I bought this book. Nothing new on the shelves that looked exciting, but I knew that the Clint Eastwood film about J. Edgar Hoover was coming out, and along with it, probably a renewed discussion of the FBI, then and now. With a yawn I scooped up this book and checked the calendar for releases of something better. Sure enough, now it pans out –new stuff from Stephen King, Umberto Eco, Gregory Maguire. It was the holiday shopping season, after all (publishers hold the best books for November release on purpose), but don’t buy me those books. I already dropped a c-note and then some to obtain them all for myself, but they may yet become slightly used gifts to my own loved ones after the New Year arrives. One of the perqs of being your own Santa is that you have plenty of time to enjoy the gifts you’ll give to others.
Where was I? Oh yeah, this boring FBI book. I think Ronald Kessler must also have known that the Hoover movie was coming, since this really isn’t a book. This is a series of vaguely related chapters about, well, this, that, and especially the other, undoubtedly culled from the remnants of his previous books on the FBI and quickly bundled for release. Kessler has been a truly important investigative reporter for almost fifty years, even if his politics was an ever lengthening dog-leg right. An admiring book about the Shrub presidency in 2004 pretty well clinches the question of whether this guy is politically credible, but think about it. Would you want a committed leftist writing about the secrets of the FBI? In that case, you would never know which criticisms were exaggerated and which were accurate. But if a right-wing guy criticizes the FBI (and Kessler definitely does), you can rest assured that (1) his commendations of the Bureau can be ignored, and (2) his criticisms are likely true and also have been toned down. So we can safely infer that the truth is sure to be worse than whatever Kessler says.
One of Kessler’s earlier books led to the firing of William Sessions as FBI Director, and Kessler continues to rag on Sessions in this book. He also assesses the quirks and peccadillos of every Director in the Bureau’s history. Only the current Director, Robert S. Mueller III, comes out totally unscathed. Indeed, the parts on Mueller are hagiographic, it seems to me. When Kessler doesn’t stop with praise for Mueller’s performance but goes ahead to comment about how good-looking the man is, well, nevermind. The point is that the Directors come in for a serious shellacking.
The rest of the book consists of three things, one valuable, one scandalous, and the other ridiculous. The valuable thing is that Kessler explains how the FBI changed after the 9/11 attacks from a reactive policing force that caught criminals after their crimes were committed into a proactive force whose purpose was to prevent crimes before they happen. Shades of Phillip K. Dick’s Minority Report aside, this is the first believable defense of the USA Patriot Act I have seen. I can’t agree with it, Civil Libertarian that I am, but as Kessler recounts a dozen terrorist plots that have been prevented (in which the FBI had some hand), and I remember how these have been adding up, I at least have to admit that, even if the loss of liberties was not worth the trade, the FBI and others have certainly been doing their jobs proactively and, so far, effectively. Kessler does no fear-mongering in this book. He sticks to the facts and it turns out that the world is scary enough without needing to be exaggerated.
The scandalous part of the book is a dozen or so chapters on the spy game, including both Cold War and post-Cold War episodes. We get the whole Robert Hanson story and stories of other less spectacular spies for both them and us. This part of the book is really just historical journalism, collecting what was known at the time and presenting it in digestible form. I include here the Watergate stories. Kessler worked at the Washington Post during those years, and Kessler was the one who outed, in a previous book, W. Mark Felt as the infamous Deep Throat source for Woodward and Berstein. Kessler’s claim about Felt was later confirmed. These stories of spies and scandal do also occasionally contain the sexual misdoings of politicians and spies themselves, so there is just a bit of the salacious here. The commonness of sex clubs in the life of the DC elite is a little surprising to me. On the other hand, I’ve also never understood why lying and misjudgment do not ruin a political career while infidelity does.
The ridiculous side of the book is the over-enthusiastic valorizing, in several chapters spread throughout the book, of the TacOps division of the Bureau. These are the people who break into houses and businesses and plant surveillance devices. The descriptions and the general attitude here is to make heroes of people who essentially violate our privacy rights with only the oversight of the FISA court. This stuff would fit with the style of Soldier of Fortune magazine. I almost didn’t make it to chapter two of the book because the first chapter was nothing but a celebration of a black and white world in which good guys sacrifice everything to protect their country from bad guys. Fortunately, only the chapters on TacOps are like this –and that’s about six of 32 chapters. This book makes great bathroom reading by the way. The chapters are about the right length, if you know what I mean, and if you do run out of tp, well, the TacOps chapters are there.