by Chris McMichael, Mahala
As Julian Stallabrass recently observed,
views about the effects of social networks and other new information
technology on politics are deeply polarised. On the one hand, Web 2.0
has been viewed as the greatest tool for human emancipation since the
invention of the printing press, given credence by the role played by
social networks and smart phones in the Arab Spring and the Occupy
protests. Apart from being organisational
platforms for coordinating mass action, the examples of Tunisia and
Egypt shows how the airing of official dirt over the internet can have
‘real world’ consequences: the revelations contained in the Wikileaks
cables were among the catalysts which helped to push popular anger about
the Ben Ali and Mubarak regimes onto the streets. But on the other
hand, these technologies have also been presented as a tool of
containment: a space where people can waste their time on stupid memes
and the specialised realms of porno, while continually updating their
private movements, feelings and rants in a way that is readily
accessible by governments and corporate advertisers alike. A kind of
soft, Lolcat authoritarianism.
Without getting into the merits of the debate, it is clear that
police and military establishments throughout the world are increasingly
viewing the net as a new theatre of risk and disorder. Whether it’s
coached in terms of protecting intellectual property rights or defeating
vaguely sketched ‘national security threats’ there have been moves to
exert control over emerging communicative territories. From the US, the
push for laws like SOPA and PIPA, while politicians have called for
Julian Assange and Bradley Manning’s heads on pikes for all too see. In
South Africa, the government seems more immediately concerned with
protecting state secrets through the Protection of Information Bill
rather than monitoring communications. However RICA, which typically
was passed as an ‘anti-crime’ measure, has a huge potential for
repression as it allows service providers to hold consumer data for an
unspecified period of time. For example, there is a substantial amount
of anecdotal evidence which suggests that the State Security Agency
(SSA) is using RICA to access the private phone numbers of activists
for the purpose of old school verbal harassment. This has been
accompanied by attempts to intensify the SSA’s remit for ‘signal
interception’ which would allow for much more comprehensive monitoring
of everyday communications.
The next few years may also see the internet become an actual medium
for warfare rather than just a platform for greater surveillance. One of
the last desperate acts of the Mubarak government was to briefly “kill’
internet and mobile services in Egypt, while the UK government came
close to shutting down social networks during the August riots. These
counter-measures are not just about controlling populations but are also
being driven by the emergence of inter-state cyber warfare conducted
through targeted virus attacks on digital infrastructure. The US and
Israeli Defence Force have all but admitted that they were responsible
for creating the 2010 Stuxnet virus which was aimed at Iranian nuclear
facilities. More recently, the Chinese have been accused of attempting
to hack into US drones.
Its often be assumed that efforts to enforce a surveillent order over
the internet are technophile fantasies as the sheer volume of
information defies attempts at tracking. However, the testimony of
whistleblower William Binney, a former employee of the highly secretive
National Security Agency (NSA) suggests that
the US government, aided by commercial companies, does in fact have the
ability to record most domestic communications. Furthermore, a recent
report from the Brookings institute argues that ‘plummeting digital
storage costs’ will soon allow governments everywhere to perform ‘retrospective surveillance’,
using data pulled from everything from phone records to CCTV footage.
‘These enormous databases of captured information will create what
amounts to a surveillance time machine, enabling state security services
to retroactively eavesdrop on people in the months and years before
they were designated as surveillance targets’.
The ever pioneering Facebook is offering it assistance in leading the
charge by hiring lobbyists to push for a new bill which would allow
companies to spy on user information
and to freely pass along personal information to government agencies.
Up until now, I always thought that real danger of Facebook was drunken
status updates along the line of “MY BOSS CAN EAT A DICK”, having said
employees see your classy photos from Bong Fest ’08 or dealing with the
crazed provocations of sociopathic ex-girlfriends. Now it’s the fact
that some spook could, in theory, have access to all kinds of individual
details, affiliations and beliefs. Although this may be the logical
development of social networks: As both Julian Assange and The Onion have pointed out,
Facebook has the potential to be a rapidly assembled, 24-7 voluntary
surveillance machine, made all the more potent by its ubiquity.
The official line on Facebook propagated by Mark Zuckerberg and co is
that it offers a new form of community in an age of post-privacy:
communication unhindered by space, time and censorship. This
technological utopianism is contrasted by a far more consistent reality
of corporate data mining and storage. This disjuncture between
libertarian fantasies and actual control is itself reflective of the ‘Californian Ideology’
found within elements of the computer industry. In this ‘dot com
neoliberalism’, computers are supposed to create new virtual autonomous
zones free of the repressive hand of the state. But in practice advances
in computing have served to entrench corporate control over online
life, while many of the innovations coming out of Silicon Valley and
other development hubs have been enabled by defence contracts.
Efforts to exert greater state control over the internet are also
being cheerleaded by a vast array of security companies, offering
solutions to a host of real and imagined threats, from identity theft to
claims that groups like Anynomous could take down entire national power
grids! This is been given further traction by a shift within the global
‘homeland security industry’ away from panics about terrorism and
illegal immigrants to the ‘threat’ posed by a disenchanted public. The
avant garde of military planning has recently focused on the dangers of
‘extremists’ using communications technology to rapidly mobilise ‘violent demonstrations’.
Although these fears predate the events of the last year it seems
reasonable to assume that in era when political and economic systems are
undergoing a profound crisis of legitimacy, these kinds of prediction
will gain greater traction with fearful governments. To appropriate a
term from computing, the cutting edge of national security may soon be
counter-measures against a ‘global (non) passive enemy’.
There is a crucial difference between policing the internet, such as
preventing child pornography and fraud, and the attempts to militarise
cyberspace by turning it into the ‘fifth battlespace’
alongside land, sea, air and space. This is indicative of the nature of
war in the early 21st century which is no longer primarily about nation
states facing off against each other. Instead, war exists within states
and across borders, from functionally endless public safety wars
against crime and drugs to the open-ended conflicts being played out
along the US-Mexico Border to the drone saturated skies of what is now
called the ‘Af-Pak’ war.
Although these innovations are being driven by the Pentagon, South
Africa’s security establishments have been quick to incorporate the
doctrines of the ‘everywhere war’ ideology. SAPS commanders talk about
how there are no longer ‘static borders’ while hawkish Defence Minister
Lindiwe Sisuslu has claimed that the army needs to gear up for
‘non-traditional’ threats. This kind of thinking rapidly turns into the
treatment of social problems as ‘threats’ and the criminalisation of dissent.
There is a weird symmetry in efforts to militarise cyberspace as much
of the computer science which pays such a pivotal role in modern life
has its origins in defence research. And that’s exactly why the
civilinisation of this technology must be protected. Apart from the
advantages it offers for almost every aspect of daily life, advances in
computing offer unparalleled future developments in science, medicine
and exploration. At the political level, the internet serves to disrupt
the sophisticated reality management techniques of state and capital.
For example, if not for the readily available counter-surveillance
offered by smart phone technology, many of the incidents of SAPS brutality
which have been recorded with shocking regularity over the last few
years would have been buried in official statements about ‘violent
crowds’. Groups such as Abahlali baseMjondolo and the Western Cape
Anti-Eviction Campaign have short-circuited the hostile receptions of
the local state, NGOs and academia and gained international exposure
through clever usage of websites and mailing lists. And just as these
movements have fought for the right to the city, the creeping
militirisation of the internet must be equally resisted to prevent it
becoming a monitored pseudo-public space where the terms and conditions
are decided off screen.