喬納森·弗裏德蘭:政府監聽,英國人為什麼不生氣
設想一下,類似《007:大破天幕殺機》的場景。11月某日,英國下院的委員會會議室內,特勤部門的多位負責人出現在議員們面前,除了沒有槍聲,邦德電影的要素一應俱全。
彈未出膛,硝煙瀰漫。負責對內安全事務的軍情五處、對外安全事務的軍情六處以及英國政府通訊總部(秘密通訊電子監聽中心)三大諜報中心負責人齊聚一堂,這是前所未有的景象,已經足夠壯觀。他們共同接受情報與安全事務委員會的質詢。此前,該委員會的質詢程序從未對外公佈。(也就是20多年前,這些情報機構負責人的名字還都屬於國家機密。)
這足以登上晚間新聞節目。最讓人感興趣的是另一個冷僻話題:斯諾登事件。説“冷僻”,是因為英國主流社會對美國國安局前僱員揭示的秘密基本無動於衷。英國《衞報》協助斯諾登爆料——國安局與政府通訊總部對英美兩國公民實行大規模監聽——並且火力極猛,但英國其他媒體明顯都避開了這一話題。英國議會有幾位勇士提出了人權和隱私問題。此外,誰提起這個話題,十有八九是想指責《衞報》損害國家安全,而非斥責情報部門逾越職權。
這就解釋了英國與德、美兩國的反應為什麼這麼大。在美國,國會正在重新審核監聽項目,上至總統奧巴馬、下至普通老百姓,都認為監聽議題值得一辯;而在德國,史塔西(國家安全部)的歷史記憶讓人回想起老大哥的時代。人們可以從中管窺英國的政治格局,及其背後的運作邏輯。
先從政治談起。有人可能以為反對黨工黨會挑起斯諾登的話題,然後把政府描繪成老大哥的形象。麻煩在於,工黨三年前還是執政黨,可能引火上身。現在不是扔石頭的好時機。
直到2010年,維護民權一直是小黨自由民主黨的特色。該黨65年來從未坐上任何一個部門的大臣寶座,沒有沾染過權力,也就不必為了國家安全而做“艱難抉擇”。但現在,自民黨已經歸屬保守黨的聯盟。他們不能再抱怨政府介入民眾生活了:他們自己就是政府。
媒體界也不怎麼“感冒”。英國媒體以惡性競爭著稱:至少有10家全國性日報,總部均位於倫敦,在日益萎縮的市場摸爬滾打。
沒有哪家媒體去挖掘國安局的猛料,也許是不願追隨對手的獨家報道。值得一提的是,《衞報》因為揭露電話竊聽醜聞而遭到同行嫉恨。英國報業因此而加緊管制。弗利特街(英國的報業街——觀察者網注)可不想跟着給自己惹麻煩的同行往前衝。
除了媒體,另一方面則是情報部門。如今這個時代,英國官方機構——議會、警察局、BBC、國民衞生服務(NHS)——紛紛沾染醜聞,而情報機構則保持着良好形象。調查機構YouGov上月的數據顯示,斯諾登事件發生後,只有19%的英國人認為情報機構權力過大;64%的英國人認為情報機構職權合理或權力還不夠大。
英國近年來最大的情報戰失誤是在伊拉克戰爭後,原本熱炒的大規模殺傷性武器在伊拉克根本沒找到。但很少有英國人就此責怪諜報人員。大多數人將其責任歸咎於前首相托尼•布萊爾,他誤讀了情報。
還有一段小插曲。2015年,英國人將慶祝“大憲章”頒佈800週年紀念,他們對人權保障情況已經滿足。主流心理是實用主義:如果某樣東西能保護我們,那就OK。許多英國人認同老軍警們的準則:如果你沒什麼要遮掩,那就沒什麼可怕的了。
例如,英國將安裝世界上數量最多的監控攝像頭,比中國還多。每個商店、火車站、學校、公交車,到處都有。每11個英國人就有1個攝像頭伺候。英國人沒什麼意見,因為攝像頭是用來打擊犯罪的。這並未侵犯《權利法案》或成文憲法——因為英國根本沒有《權利法案》或成文憲法。
也許這才是問題關鍵。英國與美國的權力觀有着本質差異。在美國,“我們人民”是主權所有者。因此,國安局和其他政府部門一樣,都是人民的僕人——主人叫它幹什麼就什麼。
反之,英國體制仍然存有君主制的痕跡:嚴格説來,英國政府是“女王陛下的政府”,而非人民的政府。權力自上而下,國家規定民眾權力。也就是説,英國人對於政府治理、干預民眾生活並無異議——因為他們覺得政府不是公僕。英國人還是臣民,不是公民。

英國女王與現任首相戴維·卡梅倫、前首相約翰·梅傑(1990-1997)、託尼·布萊爾(1997-2007)以及戈登·布朗(2007-2010)在唐寧街10號
所以,美國人對於斯諾登先生揭發的秘密大為震驚,而英國人則紋絲不動。這不是什麼斯多葛主義的剋制、達觀,而是順從的心態與服從的習慣。我們似乎從未注意到這一點。
(本文原載《紐約時報》2013年11月9日A21版,原題Why Do Brits Accept Surveillance?. 觀察者網朱新偉/譯)
翻頁請看英文原文
Why Surveillance Doesn’t Faze Britain
By JONATHAN FREEDLAND
(Published: November 8, 2013. A version of this op-ed appears in print on November 9, 2013, on page A21 of the New York edition with the headline: Why Do Brits Accept Surveillance?.)
LONDON — Think of it as the “Skyfall” session. In a committee room of the House of Commons, the heads of the British secret services appeared on Thursday before a panel of M.P.’s in what might have been a re-enactment of that scene from the latest Bond movie — minus the shootout.
Even without gunfire, it was not short of drama. The mere sight of the heads of Britain’s domestic and foreign intelligence agencies, MI5 and MI6, along with the director of its listening post, G.C.H.Q., was spectacle enough. This was their first joint appearance in public, addressing a parliamentary intelligence and security committee whose hearings had, until now, always been held behind closed doors. (Indeed, little more than 20 years ago even the names of the intelligence chiefs were a state secret.)
That fact alone guaranteed coverage on the evening news. Which meant a rare focus on the topic that provided the session’s most electrifying moments: the Edward Snowden affair. Rare because the dominant British reaction to the revelations provided by Mr. Snowden, the former National Security Agency contractor, has been a shrug of indifference. The Guardian helped break the story — that the N.S.A. and G.C.H.Q. (Government Communications Headquarters) have engaged in mass surveillance of American and British citizens online — and has covered it intensely, but the rest of the British media have largely steered clear. In Parliament, a few maverick individuals have raised concerns about civil liberties and privacy. When others have mentioned the subject, it’s mostly been to accuse The Guardian of damaging national security, rather than to ask whether the intelligence agencies have gone too far.
What explains this reaction — so at odds with the response in the United States, where Congress is reviewing its oversight arrangements and where everyone from President Obama on down has acknowledged that a debate is necessary, if not overdue, and so at odds with, say, Germany, where memories of Stasi eavesdropping ensure revulsion at the notion of all-seeing surveillance? The answers say much about the current political landscape of Britain — and much of what lies beneath.
Start with the politics. One might expect the opposition Labour Party to have picked up the Snowden issue, eagerly casting the government as Big Brother. The trouble is, Labour was itself in government just over three years ago, doubtless allowing many of these same practices. It is in no position to throw stones now.
Until 2010, the smaller Liberal Democrats could have been relied on to champion personal liberty. Untainted by power, and denied ministerial office for 65 years, they had never had to make the “tough decisions” so often cited in defense of the security services. Now, though, they are in coalition as the Conservatives’ junior partner. They can no longer complain about government intrusion: They are the government.
The media terrain has proved equally unpropitious for this story. The British press is known for its vicious rivalry: At least 10 national daily newspapers, all headquartered in London, fighting over an ever-shrinking market.
Few media outlets have run hard on the N.S.A. revelations, perhaps reluctant to give traction to a rival’s story. It’s worth admitting that The Guardian is resented by its rivals for exposing the phone hacking scandal that has resulted in the prospect of state-backed regulation of the newspaper industry. What used to be Fleet Street is in no mood to follow a lead set by the paper that’s caused them so much aggravation.
Which brings us to the intelligence agencies themselves. At a time when so many other British institutions — from Parliament to the police to the B.B.C. and the National Health Service — have seen their reputations tarnished by scandal, Britain’s intelligence establishment remains in good standing. A YouGov survey last month, long after the Snowden revelations, found that only 19 percent of Britons believed the security services had too much power; 64 percent reckoned they had the right amount or not enough.
In Britain few blame the spies for what might seem like the gravest intelligence debacle in recent history: The expectation that weapons of mass destruction would be found in post-invasion Iraq. Blame for that error tends to attach to the former prime minister Tony Blair, who is believed to have seen what he wanted to see in the reports he received, rather than to the agencies themselves.
It helps that Britain — which in 2015 will praise itself once more as the land that eight centuries earlier gave the world the great freedom charter, Magna Carta — has a curiously complacent attitude to civil liberties. A pragmatism prevails: If it protects us, it’s O.K. Many Brits accept the old securocrat formulation: If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear.
For example, Britain is estimated to have more CCTV cameras than any other country, including China. They are found in every store, railway station, school or bus — one for every 11 people on these islands. People don’t object because the cameras are said to reduce crime. They violate no Bill of Rights or written constitution because Britain has neither.
And this might be the heart of the matter. Britain has a fundamentally different conception of power than, say, the United States. In America, it is “we the people” who are held to be sovereign. Viewed like that, the N.S.A., and other arms of the government, is a servant of the people: It is meant to do what it is told.
The British system, by contrast, still carries the imprint of its origins in monarchy: Officially, it remains “Her Majesty’s Government,” not the people’s. Power still emanates from the top and flows downward, with the public allowed a peek only when the state chooses. It means that Brits can be quite resigned toward the level of government power over, and intrusion into, their lives — because they don’t really see government as their servant in the first place. Britons remain subjects, not citizens.
And so, while Americans have been shocked and stirred to action by Mr. Snowden’s disclosures, Britain is resolutely unmoved. It’s not the old stiff upper lip of stoicism that you’re seeing, but a shrug of resignation and a habit of deference so deeply ingrained we hardly notice it.