Remember the Anti-Bush Intel Operation that got Scooter Libby (who had nothing to do with the object of the investigation) convicted of perjury?
Donald Trump is still six weeks away from his inauguration and the same CIA is going after him with cooked-up reports casting doubt on the legitimacy of his election.
Well, here’s a test for Trump. George W. Bush say there, for eight years, as a punching bag for the pouting spooks, never lifting a finger to challenge their authority to undermine his presidency, attack his foreign policy, and ruin the lives and careers of his officials. What is Trump going to do?
I’d say that Donald Trump ought to find and appoint a really ruthless, hard-as-nails special prosecutor and investigator to go back over the events of the entire Valerie Plame Affair, find out and expose who sent Joe Wilson to Niger so that he could write his NY Times editorial, and then who turned Bob Novak’s identification of Valerie’s CIA position into a federal case to be used to bring down Bush Administration officials. He should have them found, prosecuted, and punished.
But Trump should not stop there.
Ex-Spook Charles McCarry identifies why the CIA needs to be abolished in his 1992 espionage thriller Second Sight.
A description of the Agencyâ€™s earlier days:
The Outfit had no headquarters. Its employees, whose numbers cost, and true identities were kept secret from everyone except the O.G. (â€œthe Old Gentleman,â€ the head of the Outfit), were scattered around Washington in gimcrack temporary government buildings left over the First World War, or in offices with the names of fictitious organizations painted on the doors, or in private houses in discreet residential neighborhoods. This milieu, in which daring undertakings were planned and spacious ideas were discussed in mean little rooms by ardently ambitious men who were mostly very young, preserved a wartime atmosphere long after WWII was over. This was exactly what the O.G. wanted.
â€œNooks and crannies, visibility zero â€” thatâ€™s the ticket,â€ he said. â€œThe day we move into a big beautiful building with landscaped grounds and start hanging portraits of our founders is the day we begin to die.â€
The sentence that Patchen murmured to the O.G. over their inedible dinner at the Club was this: â€œIf (Patchen were captured and fully debriefed by the enemy), we could start all over again.â€