overt actions are the dark arts of statecraft. They are likely the most interesting and least understood (or most misunderstood) part of international affairs. This is partly by design and partly by consequence. Things that take place in the shadows are not meant for public consumption—except when they are. The hand of the state is to remain hidden—unless it is not. It is deniable by design—until it becomes politically more advantageous to acknowledge the action. In this wilderness, the imagination and popular entertainment run wild.
Sitting in my local bookshop the new thrillers section loom—filled with tales of action and skullduggery, these books are as close as most will ever get to the world of covert action, and what an inaccurate world it is. “Spies” attempt to prevent a nuclear catastrophe or stop terrorists from unleashing the next plague, all while their own governments try to stop them. Intelligence agents (because editors seem unable to correct the lexicon to “officers”) able to wield every weapon, hack every mainframe, and fly every vehicle swoop in to save the day, while double, triple, and even quadruple agents try to stop them. Alarmingly, more often than not, these threads are all found in the same book.
In his latest book, “How to Stage a Coup,” Rory Cormac offers a delightfully incisive and much needed corrective to the opacity surrounding covert action. He shows that reality is, in fact, far more interesting than fiction.
Cormac has emerged as a leading historian of intelligence and its practice. His books are consistently some of the most interesting and illuminating on the subject. “The Black Door” and “The Secret Royals” (both co-written with Richard Aldrich) are some of the most insightful looks into the nexus of politics, royalty, and intelligence. His “Disrupt and Deny” is a fascinating exploration of London’s use of covert action, grounding James Bond in reality. “How to Stage a Coup” is no different—it may sound odd to say, but despite it being about some of the most underhanded behaviors a state can undertake, it is a fun book to read. It is a must read for both practitioners of the dark arts and the curious general public alike.
In what initially looks like a how-to guide, Cormac explores the panoply of tools by, and through, which states attempt to covertly influence and effect geopolitics. He shows that, Hollywood notwithstanding, these efforts are more often than not unsuccessful. An assassination or political murder may buy time, but have unintended consequences. A cyber operation may delay an adversary acquiring nuclear weapons, but it will not stop them from trying. Efforts to influence an election, if revealed, may backfire. Despite this poor track record, states continue to try these actions, seeking to buy tactical time for what are often intractable strategic problems.
Yet, as Cormac shows, failure or exposure may not actually matter. In many cases the very exposure of a covert action serves as a signal. Failures are as much a signal as a success: if one operation was uncovered, how many more might have evaded detection? The aim is as much about weakening adversaries as it is about introducing doubt and political paralysis.
Here, Russia is particularly instructive. Successive operations in the United Kingdom targeting former spies—Alexander Litvinenko and Sergei Skripal—were, ultimately, exposed. In the case of the former it was successful (though the poisoners left a literal radioactive trail in their wake). In the latter, it clearly failed with the would-be poisoners (pardon me, I mean Salisbury Cathedral tourists) ending up on Russian state television. Both cases sent a message nonetheless—former spies are not beyond the reach of Moscow. The end result of this, and other actions by Moscow, was to create and reinforce the image that there is a Russian hiding behind every corner—even if there is not.
While the majority of that which is known about covert action relates to the United States, Cormac explores other countries’ efforts to subvert and influence partners and adversaries alike. Nearly every country has undertaken or wishes to undertake covert action. It is an attractive policy option, particularly when overt actions or efforts to influence state behavior would provoke an immune response within the target country.
Cormac’s book sits neatly alongside Mark Galeotti’s latest entry “The Weaponisation of Everything.” Together they serve as a compendium of how states seek to influence adversaries and allies through overt and covert means. In both books, these behaviors or actions are not fundamentally new. Rather, the means have evolved. Influence operations would be just as familiar to the Venetian Doges as the trolls at the Internet Research Agency. The medium may be different, but the desired effects are the same. To be sure there is more of it and it can spread a lot more easily, but at its core, it is about disseminating messages in support of policy options. As Cormac shows, covert action adapts with the times. Whether covert action is undertaken by remote-controlled machine guns as in Iran or drones, conducted via deep fakes or traditional media, the intent is the same. He is also right that it is better to work by, with, and through partners where possible. Allied operations achieve far greater success than those that operate alone, at least it appears so in the Western experience.
“How to Stage a Coup” closes with an exploration of the future of covert action, but one hopes that Cormac will spin this off into a wholly separate book. Cormac clearly demonstrates that covert action is alive and well, and not going anywhere anytime soon. It is a metaphorical “easy” button for states and governments (despite being anything but easy). Yet, the future efficacy of covert action and intelligence writ large is open to debate. How can states successfully mount covert operations in an era of near ubiquitous and constant surveillance? How can the effects of a cyber operation remain limited when everything is connected a la Stuxnet? Does open source intelligence spell the death knell of certain covert operations? If Alexei Navalny can track down and trick his would-be assassin, what can better resourced intelligence agencies achieve or uncover?
An equally interesting question worthy of its own exploration (though here again Cormac does explore it at the end of his book) is how states can defend themselves against covert action. How can liberal democracies protect themselves against foreign influence operations without infringing on free speech? How can critical infrastructure be protected when nearly everything is connected? Cormac writes that raising the costs of covert action (and exposing them when possible and desirable) and healing internal divisions on which many of these actions seize is a right course of action.
If there is one lesson above all others readers should take away from “How to Stage a Coup” it is that covert action alone is not a solution in and of itself. Despite what Hollywood suggests, intelligence agencies alone cannot achieve desired policy outcomes. Covert action is merely a tool. When connected with a concerted overall foreign policy, it can be highly effective. When disconnected from policy or seen as a panacea or a fallback option, it will almost certainly fail even if it achieves its tactical objectives. That is a lesson that policymakers would do well to heed now and, in the future, less they embark on foolish policies based on misguided hopes of what covert action can (and cannot) do.
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The Dark Arts of Statecraft
Photo by David Sinclair via Unsplash.
July 23, 2022
In his latest book review, Joshua Huminski analyzes Rory Cormac’s, “How to Stage a Coup,” which offers a delightfully incisive and much needed corrective to the opacity surrounding covert action. Cormac shows that reality is, in fact, far more interesting than fiction.
C
overt actions are the dark arts of statecraft. They are likely the most interesting and least understood (or most misunderstood) part of international affairs. This is partly by design and partly by consequence. Things that take place in the shadows are not meant for public consumption—except when they are. The hand of the state is to remain hidden—unless it is not. It is deniable by design—until it becomes politically more advantageous to acknowledge the action. In this wilderness, the imagination and popular entertainment run wild.
Sitting in my local bookshop the new thrillers section loom—filled with tales of action and skullduggery, these books are as close as most will ever get to the world of covert action, and what an inaccurate world it is. “Spies” attempt to prevent a nuclear catastrophe or stop terrorists from unleashing the next plague, all while their own governments try to stop them. Intelligence agents (because editors seem unable to correct the lexicon to “officers”) able to wield every weapon, hack every mainframe, and fly every vehicle swoop in to save the day, while double, triple, and even quadruple agents try to stop them. Alarmingly, more often than not, these threads are all found in the same book.
In his latest book, “How to Stage a Coup,” Rory Cormac offers a delightfully incisive and much needed corrective to the opacity surrounding covert action. He shows that reality is, in fact, far more interesting than fiction.
Cormac has emerged as a leading historian of intelligence and its practice. His books are consistently some of the most interesting and illuminating on the subject. “The Black Door” and “The Secret Royals” (both co-written with Richard Aldrich) are some of the most insightful looks into the nexus of politics, royalty, and intelligence. His “Disrupt and Deny” is a fascinating exploration of London’s use of covert action, grounding James Bond in reality. “How to Stage a Coup” is no different—it may sound odd to say, but despite it being about some of the most underhanded behaviors a state can undertake, it is a fun book to read. It is a must read for both practitioners of the dark arts and the curious general public alike.
In what initially looks like a how-to guide, Cormac explores the panoply of tools by, and through, which states attempt to covertly influence and effect geopolitics. He shows that, Hollywood notwithstanding, these efforts are more often than not unsuccessful. An assassination or political murder may buy time, but have unintended consequences. A cyber operation may delay an adversary acquiring nuclear weapons, but it will not stop them from trying. Efforts to influence an election, if revealed, may backfire. Despite this poor track record, states continue to try these actions, seeking to buy tactical time for what are often intractable strategic problems.
Yet, as Cormac shows, failure or exposure may not actually matter. In many cases the very exposure of a covert action serves as a signal. Failures are as much a signal as a success: if one operation was uncovered, how many more might have evaded detection? The aim is as much about weakening adversaries as it is about introducing doubt and political paralysis.
Here, Russia is particularly instructive. Successive operations in the United Kingdom targeting former spies—Alexander Litvinenko and Sergei Skripal—were, ultimately, exposed. In the case of the former it was successful (though the poisoners left a literal radioactive trail in their wake). In the latter, it clearly failed with the would-be poisoners (pardon me, I mean Salisbury Cathedral tourists) ending up on Russian state television. Both cases sent a message nonetheless—former spies are not beyond the reach of Moscow. The end result of this, and other actions by Moscow, was to create and reinforce the image that there is a Russian hiding behind every corner—even if there is not.
While the majority of that which is known about covert action relates to the United States, Cormac explores other countries’ efforts to subvert and influence partners and adversaries alike. Nearly every country has undertaken or wishes to undertake covert action. It is an attractive policy option, particularly when overt actions or efforts to influence state behavior would provoke an immune response within the target country.
Cormac’s book sits neatly alongside Mark Galeotti’s latest entry “The Weaponisation of Everything.” Together they serve as a compendium of how states seek to influence adversaries and allies through overt and covert means. In both books, these behaviors or actions are not fundamentally new. Rather, the means have evolved. Influence operations would be just as familiar to the Venetian Doges as the trolls at the Internet Research Agency. The medium may be different, but the desired effects are the same. To be sure there is more of it and it can spread a lot more easily, but at its core, it is about disseminating messages in support of policy options. As Cormac shows, covert action adapts with the times. Whether covert action is undertaken by remote-controlled machine guns as in Iran or drones, conducted via deep fakes or traditional media, the intent is the same. He is also right that it is better to work by, with, and through partners where possible. Allied operations achieve far greater success than those that operate alone, at least it appears so in the Western experience.
“How to Stage a Coup” closes with an exploration of the future of covert action, but one hopes that Cormac will spin this off into a wholly separate book. Cormac clearly demonstrates that covert action is alive and well, and not going anywhere anytime soon. It is a metaphorical “easy” button for states and governments (despite being anything but easy). Yet, the future efficacy of covert action and intelligence writ large is open to debate. How can states successfully mount covert operations in an era of near ubiquitous and constant surveillance? How can the effects of a cyber operation remain limited when everything is connected a la Stuxnet? Does open source intelligence spell the death knell of certain covert operations? If Alexei Navalny can track down and trick his would-be assassin, what can better resourced intelligence agencies achieve or uncover?
An equally interesting question worthy of its own exploration (though here again Cormac does explore it at the end of his book) is how states can defend themselves against covert action. How can liberal democracies protect themselves against foreign influence operations without infringing on free speech? How can critical infrastructure be protected when nearly everything is connected? Cormac writes that raising the costs of covert action (and exposing them when possible and desirable) and healing internal divisions on which many of these actions seize is a right course of action.
If there is one lesson above all others readers should take away from “How to Stage a Coup” it is that covert action alone is not a solution in and of itself. Despite what Hollywood suggests, intelligence agencies alone cannot achieve desired policy outcomes. Covert action is merely a tool. When connected with a concerted overall foreign policy, it can be highly effective. When disconnected from policy or seen as a panacea or a fallback option, it will almost certainly fail even if it achieves its tactical objectives. That is a lesson that policymakers would do well to heed now and, in the future, less they embark on foolish policies based on misguided hopes of what covert action can (and cannot) do.
