Vital access to US terror intelligence worth leaks
For stretched British counter-terrorism officers, information outweighs risk of revealed secrets
Who could have done such a thing? As the public struggled to comprehend the horror of Monday’s terrorist attack in Manchester, they naturally wanted to know who had committed this terrible crime. Strangely, they found the answer not from the British Government, but from the United States. Citing US officials as sources, American news channels broadcast the bomber’s name, Salman Abedi, and photos of the scene were leaked before the British authorities had officially released the information.
Britain was not amused, as presumably those US officials had themselves been told the name by the UK under the two countries’ intelligence-sharing arrangements. Amber Rudd, the Home Secretary, declared that the leak was “irritating”, and promised to look seriously at what Britain tells America in the future.
Her frustration is understandable. Releasing the name of the bomber early could have tipped off any fellow conspirators, causing them to flee or destroy evidence. Or the name could have been incorrect. In numerous incidents in the past, including the Westminster attack in March, media outlets have pointed the finger at the wrong person.
This incident also fits the idea that the FBI and other US agencies have become, under the tender mercies of the Trump regime, irredeemably leaky. The image of Donald Trump passing secret Israeli information to the Russian foreign minister in the Oval Office reinforces this narrative.
But such leaks are nothing new, long pre-dating the struggle that Trump is having with the agencies he nominally leads. They are also not necessarily malicious.
Protecting information coming from partners is always a challenge because at root one cares more about one’s own secrets than someone else’s. In the case of terrorist attacks, particularly, it is difficult to keep the name of the perpetrator secret. In fact, the name of the Manchester attacker appears to have been leaked to British journalists as well, perhaps even before the Americans got it. The difference was that the British press honoured their government’s request not to publish the name, at least until their American cousins had let the cat out of the bag.
None of this is an excuse for leaking sensitive information. But it reminds us that, in an age of global, instant social media, it has become a lot harder to keep information that the public desperately wants a secret. When there is enormous interest in a story, leaks are near enough inevitable, and no amount of irritation
‘Releasing the name of the bomber early could have tipped off any fellow conspirators’
from the Home Secretary will change that. Trump, despite his many sins, is not the cause of that problem.
It is also worth remembering why the US had this information in the first place. One of the first things the British authorities would have needed to know is whether Abedi had links to the transnational terrorist networks that US intelligence tracks so assiduously. From there, they could assess whether he was working alone or whether they should expect more attacks. For the stretched British counter-terrorism services, real-time access to US intelligence on this subject is worth the world.
Even with the risk of leaks, intelligence-sharing is a jewel in the crown of the special relationship.