The Julian Assange question: First Amendment or a smelly fish?
They say that guests are like fish; after three days they become a bit whiffy. By this measure, WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange smelled like an overladen fishing vessel adrift in the searing sun.
Upon his arrest Thursday by British authorities, ending his nearly seven-year asylum in the Ecuadorian Embassy in London, revelations emerged that he was less than an ideal guest. He reportedly was rude and aggressive toward his hosts and demonstrated little interest in hygiene. In his grossest display of disaffection, he apishly smeared his feces on the embassy walls, according to Ecuador’s interior minister.
Assange’s behavior makes one wonder about his mental health. Maybe he lost his mind while being confined for so long. On the other hand, he seemed quite cognizant as he left the embassy, offering peace signs and a thumbsup to bystanders.
If Assange is, indeed, of right mind, then we can only conclude that he’s a solid jerk. Certainly, his non-fans — including many in the U.S. media — long have viewed him as a sociopathic interloper operating under the protection of free speech.
No stranger to legal problems, Assange has been indicted by the U.S. on one count of conspiracy to commit computer intrusion.
While the government seems to want to avoid a battle over the First Amendment, focusing mostly on conspiracy, it can later charge Assange with something more. Meanwhile, media talk has turned to whether Assange is really a journalist and if freespeech protections apply.
The difference between someone like Assange publishing whatever leaks land in his lap and, say, The Washington Post, which published the leaked documents known as the Pentagon Papers, is mostly a lot of worry and process. Most responsible reporters and editors routinely ask themselves questions such as: Should we publish this? Does the public interest override other concerns? Is it justifiable to expose someone’s personal emails and under what circumstances?
One supposes that Assange never bothered himself with such pesky queries.
In the case of the Pentagon Papers, former Rand Corp. military analyst Daniel Ellsberg stole thousands of pages of a top-secret report detailing the U.S. government’s decades-long campaign of deceit, mayhem and murder related to the war in Vietnam. Ellsberg first gave the documents to The New York Times, which published three articles about them before the White House obtained a court injunction. Ellsberg then provided copies to the Post, which, after due consideration, began publishing its own stories.
In deliberating whether to run them, Post publisher Katharine Graham deployed lawyers and editors to weigh the potential legal and commercial consequences against allowing the government to continue lying and sacrificing lives. Graham’s bravery in standing up to the U.S. government and the courts — all while risking great personal and financial loss — was epic.
Assange’s process is largely to dump secrets in the town square and let the scavengers sort it out. No filter. No conscience.
On the surface, Ellsberg and Assange seem similar. Ellsberg stole — and newspapers published. Assange allegedly conspired to steal — and he published. The difference may be mostly political.
The Vietnam War was unpopular, and the government demonstrably lied to the American people for decades, unconscionably committing tens of thousands of young Americans to their early graves. Ellsberg’s charges on theft, conspiracy and espionage were eventually dismissed.
Wikileaks leaked hundreds of thousands of secret documents that potentially endangered Americans and allies around the world and, possibly, helped get Donald Trump elected.
One was a historic act of bravery; the other seems more like feces-smearing by a fishy-smelling “cypherpunk.” Then again, maybe that’s just me.