In his prologue to Man in the Shadows, published earlier this year by Weidenfeld and Nicholson (London) and St. Martin's Press (New York), the author, a career intelligence officer and diplomat, makes an intriguing statement.
"I have moved and functioned in the shadows for close to forty years," writes Efraim Halevy. "Everything looks different from there, but, in truth, which is the world of shadows and which is that of light? Which is the world of fantasy and which is the world of reality, or are they a mix of the two? In truth, I am not entirely sure."
Well -- the reader is tempted to say -- if a former head of the Mossad isn't entirely sure, the rest of us might as well close up shop. If a key player of the Great Game can't always tell fantasy from reality, how can a mere spectator, a journalist or a newspaper reader, rely on being able to separate fact from fancy?
The answer is, he can't. The best a spectator can do is observe. He can read the lines, try perhaps to read between the lines, test them against some other lines he has read, and hope that all his reading won't leave him more ignorant than he would have been without opening a book. And before that, he has to figure out which books to open.
The publication of Man in the Shadows makes this easier. Halevy's book is worth opening, not only because of its authoritative source, but because it's so well composed. The London-born Israeli writing in his native language is clearly aware of the writer's first commandment, which is to demand less from one's readers than one offers in return. By making his book an "easy read" -- i.e., as simple to read as the complexity of the subject allows -- Halevy passes the first test that separates value from waste.
The next test challenges a writer to have something to say. Halevy leaps over this hurdle like a gazelle. This isn't surprising. If a ranking civil servant associated with a legendary intelligence agency in a volatile corner of the world for nearly four decades had nothing to say, it would qualify for the Guinness Book of Records. Halevy, like all Directors-General of the Mossad, used to be called memuneh in Israel, meaning "the one in charge." Such a man has something to say, all right. The question is, does he feel free to say it?
The short answer is no. The long answer is no, but never mind. A person who knows a lot but tells only a little (say, a memuneh) is far more informative than a person who tells all he knows but knows next to nothing (say, a TV pundit.) Mossad's former D-G (1998-2002) has such a wealth of material available to him that he can select enough to discuss in sufficient depth and detail for a fascinating book. Essentially, he tells the inside story of what he calls "thirteen integral years, the years 1990-2003, which have changed the face of the world." It's a bravura performance on a tightrope.
The ideal witness to history has a great hand and puts all his cards on the table. The reader can't expect this from Man in the Shadows. Halevy's book (as he told me over tea) had to be cleared by four or five different institutions, each with its own concerns and sensitivities, ranging from military intelligence to the foreign ministry. In the end the only change requested was the deletion of half a sentence by one institution.
Such capacity for self-censorship speaks well for a loyal civil servant, but it wouldn't earn a Pulitzer for investigative reporting. Yet this seminal book about the Oslo years opens a window on the personalities involved from the White House to the Knesset to the Royal Court of Amman. It opens a window on Israeli thinking.
Or does it?
A spymaster writing a book is a contradiction in terms. Intelligence services are in the business of gathering information, not distributing it -- except maybe as disinformation. Now there's a thought. Could Halevy's book be an elaborate ruse de guerre?
This would make sense -- therefore it's probably untrue. In the kingdom of mirrors everything is reversed. "Which is the world of fantasy and which is the world of reality?" asks Halevy in his prologue. It's for the memuneh to know -- if he can keep track -- and for the rest of us to wonder.
© 2006 George Jonas
Printer-friendly version
Email this item to a friend