Waldheim cannot have a visitor’s visanto enter the USA, because of unrefutednallegations about his World War IInrecord.nWhy does there so often seem to benopen season in the media—and innCongress—on America’s national interests?nThe American public is usednto it and takes it for granted, likenmuggy weather in Chicago in thensummer. Ostensibly, it is a quest forntruth. To most Europeans, it looks likencollective insanity. Part of the explanationnmust lie in our American illusionnof invincibility. There was a time—nperhaps for 20 years after World War IIn—when America’s military and economicnmight seemed so secure thatnone could chip away at it at will, fromnall sides, gaining fame and sometimesnfortune without the risk of doing anynserious damage. Those days are longnpast; the damage that has already beenndone to America’s interests is severe,nand the damage that is still being donenmay suddenly prove fatal. But thentendency to self-destruct goes far beyondnmere verbal self-abuse, howevernharmful that may be. It extends tondeeds that we used to call treason.nWe can compare what has happenednto treason to the change ofnAmerican attitudes on abortion. Upnuntil roughly 1968, “abortion” was anloathsome word, and no physiciannwanted to be identified as an abortionist.nAfter the Supreme Court decisionnin 1973, abortion became not merelynacceptable but could even be calledngood—so much so that abortion activistnLawrence Lader could boast ofn700,000 abortions in one year as an”triumph of the human spirit.” Somethingnlike this has happened to ournattitude towards treason, althoughnthere has been no Supreme Courtndecision to justify it. We boast aboutnour shame.nIn The Treason System, Eric Wernernanalyzes a revolution in moral sentimentnthat has overtaken the West sincenWorld War I. In Divine Comedy,nDante reserved the lowest circle of hellnfor traitors, placing Brutus and Cassius,nwho betrayed Julius Caesar, innthe same category as Judas, who betrayednJesus Christ. Until well into then20th century, treason was held to benthe most loathsome of crimes. Thenhistorical Benedict Arnold was a cultivatedngentleman, acting out of what henconsidered moral duty to his lawfulnking, but his name now symbolizesnloathsomeness to generations of Americannschoolchildren. In France, thenDreyfus affair—in which a Frenchnarmy captain was convicted of sellingnmilitary secrets to the Germans —nbecame a national scandal. Later,nwhen it was proved that this convictionnwas fraudulent, there was a secondnscandal. Had Dreyfus been convictednof murder, for example, and thennexonerated, it would not have beennsuch a cause celebre. The very idea ofntreason was shocking to pre-WorldnWar I France. Today, the story isndifferent. Of course, treason is notnconsidered exactly praiseworthy, butngenuine traitors often arouse morensympathy than condemnation —nwitness the cases of Julius and EthelnRosenberg and of Alger Hiss in thenUnited States.nFor contemporary France, Wernerncites a figure of 2,000 citizens involvednin pillaging French defense secrets fornthe benefit of the USSR. This sort ofnactivity is now more or less taken forngranted. Offenders, if caught, will benprosecuted and punished, but nationalnindignation over treason reaches nothingnlike the temperature caused innAmerica by Watergate. Both the actualnWatergate break-in and the subsequentncover-up were intended to be in thennational interest. Perhaps if “the President’snmen” had been plotting againstnthe national interest—as in the Ellsbergnand Pentagon papers case—thenmedia would have been more sympathetic.nOn the one hand, elected officialsnmust not be allowed to place themselvesnabove the law regardless of theirnmotives; on the other hand, it is perversento judge those who act out ofnpatriotic motives more severely thannthose who aid our adversaries. Wernernexplains it thus: “Treason has becomenpart of public morality; it has becomendemocratized.” Treason not only nonlonger causes scandal; it is hardly evennacknowledged to exist as a sociologicalnphenomenon—rather like heresy innthe modern church. Who can bencalled a heretic today? Hardly anyone,nbecause no one knows what orthodoxynis. One of the difficult things to communicatenis the fact that a majornphenomenon — which earlier agesnwould have called criminal —has vir­nnntually disappeared from public awareness:nthe parallel with heresy and withnabortion is evident.n”With over 2,000 documented casesnof treason in France, one would supposenthat treason would be the subjectnof books, of research projects, like anynother sociological phenomenon ofnsimilar magnitude. But where arenthey? We cannot study treason becausenthere really isn’t any such thing. . . .nFifty years ago, traitors knew what theynwere doing. They realized that treasonnis a crime, and that they risked death ifnapprehended. Today accused traitorsnare surprised, shocked, outraged. Theynwould faint from astonishment if toldnthat they deserved hanging. ‘Hanging?nBut why hanging? What have we donenwrong? We are democratic. We arendefending human rights.’ And allnaround people would nod approvingly.”nA former director of the Frenchncounterespionage service, DST, entitlesnhis memoirs Mission Impossiblenand writes: “The concept of duty tonone’s country appears so outmodednthat no one is outraged or even surprisednwhen a prisoner, condemned tonlife imprisonment for treasonable actsnof extreme gravity, is freed after fivenyears.”nIt is not necessary to be an idealist, ancommitted partisan of the other side,nnor even to be highly paid to become antraitor. One sometimes has the impressionnthat treason is committednsimply for want of anything better tondo. One former Swiss officer. ColonelnJeanmaire (the highest peacetime ranknin the Swiss army), is in prison forngiving Switzerland’s aerial defensenplans to the Soviet Union. For hisnservices, the Soviets gave Jeanmairennothing but a cheap television set.nThere are parallels in the UnitednStates: Career U.S. Navy personnelnsell secrets to the Russians; Marinenguards admit Soviet agents into thensecrets of our Moscow embassy. In thenfirst case, financial problems furnishednthe alleged reasons; in the other, sexualnenticement. Nineteenth-centurynnewspapers would have raged at suchnvenality. Today we seem to feel thatnalmost any enticement suffices tonmake treason understandable, if notnpraiseworthy, no weightier than sexualninfidelity in the entertainment world.nTreason has become a generalizednNOVEMBER 1987 129n