8. Heroes and Villains of the Modern Era: Changing Global Order: Russia, China, Cybersecurity, Polarization

My Name is Zbigniew Brzezinski: National Security Advisor Under Jimmy Carter

I was ten years old when I sailed from Poland to Canada in 1938. My father, a Polish diplomat, had been posted to Montreal. It was an ordinary reason for a family to move. Then, in September 1939, Germany invaded Poland from the west, and the Soviet Union invaded from the east. We had crossed the Atlantic for my father’s next assignment. Within a year, two men in distant capitals had decided whether there would even be a Poland for us to return to.

The Question Moscow Could Never Settle

At McGill and later at Harvard, I studied the Soviet Union. Consider the difficulty facing a ruler in Moscow. He could order a Polish student to learn Russian. He could decide which version of Polish history appeared in the student’s textbook. But what happened when that student went home and asked his grandfather what he remembered? I thought the national loyalties beneath Soviet power deserved far more attention than they received. I carried that conviction into my teaching at Columbia and eventually into the White House.

A President Sends Me to Beijing

I served as President Jimmy Carter’s national security adviser from 1977 to 1981. In May 1978, he sent me to Beijing, where I met Deng Xiaoping. China and the Soviet Union shared a long border, a bitter rivalry, and a political creed that Americans sometimes assumed made them natural allies. Here was an opportunity. A closer relationship with China would give both Beijing and Washington greater freedom in dealing with Moscow. On January 1, 1979, the United States and the People’s Republic of China formally established diplomatic relations.

What Ukraine Could Decide

I lived to see Poland recover its political freedom and Ukrainians vote for independence in 1991. When Russian troops seized Crimea in 2014, much of the discussion in Washington concerned Vladimir Putin. What did he want? How far would he go? Those were reasonable questions. I insisted on another. What were Ukrainians themselves prepared to do to preserve their country? Putin had to reckon with their answer. So did we.

The Advice I Had to Answer For

One decision from my White House years deserves a final word. In 1980, I urged Carter to attempt a military rescue of the Americans held hostage in Iran. The mission was aborted in the Iranian desert. During the withdrawal, two American aircraft collided, and eight servicemen died. I had argued forcefully for giving those men the assignment. In judging the advice I gave, their families have as much right to be heard as any man who sat at our table.

A Decision Sends Ukrainians into the Square - Told by Zbigniew Brzezinski

On the evening of November 21, 2013, a Ukrainian journalist named Mustafa Nayyem posted a practical invitation on Facebook. Meet at the independence monument in Kyiv at half past ten. Dress warmly. Bring an umbrella, something hot to drink, and a friend. Hours earlier, Ukraine’s government had suspended preparations to sign an agreement with the European Union. Students were among those who answered Nayyem’s call. One detail deserves your attention. He wrote his invitation in Russian. A Ukrainian could speak Russian at home, read it on his telephone, and still walk out his door that night determined that Moscow should have no say over his country’s future.

What Was in the Agreement?

I had spent much of my career studying how Moscow exercised power over its neighbors. To understand why people went to Independence Square, though, begin with what the agreement meant in Kyiv. Ukraine had spent years negotiating closer political ties and freer trade with the European Union. Signing would lower barriers for Ukrainian goods and commit the government to changes in laws and business practices. EU membership remained a separate question. For a factory owner, the prospect was access to European customers. For a student who had watched officials and their wealthy friends prosper under rules nobody else could count on, the hope was more personal. Perhaps a government that signed its name to reforms could finally be held to them.

The Price of Choosing

Russia was a major customer for Ukrainian industry, and Moscow had already shown how readily it could hold up Ukrainian goods at the border. A worker whose factory depended on Russian orders had good reason to worry about the next paycheck. President Viktor Yanukovych’s government pointed to those economic dangers when it suspended preparations just days before the expected signing in Vilnius, Lithuania. Yet the timing raised a question familiar to anyone who grew up, as I did, in the shadow of a larger power. If pressure from a neighboring capital could undo years of negotiations in a single afternoon, how much freedom did an independent Ukraine actually have to choose its own course?

The Morning That Changed the Crowd

Before dawn on November 30, riot police moved into the square and beat demonstrators, many of them students. Images of the assault spread. On December 1, crowds far larger than the first gathering filled central Kyiv. Consider what had changed for a parent watching at home. A week earlier, the question had been whether a European agreement offered a better future for your child. Now you could see what had happened to someone’s child for standing peacefully in a public square. The agreement explained why the first students came. The government’s treatment of those students helped explain why so many others followed.

My Name is Shinzo Abe: Japanese Prime Minister

I was born in Tokyo in 1954, nine years after the war ended. When I was two, my grandfather, Prime Minister Nobusuke Kishi, stood before American lawmakers and spoke of friendship between our two countries. My own working life began at Kobe Steel. Later, when my father became foreign minister, I joined his staff and saw what went into a visit like my grandfather’s. Diplomats might spend months choosing the words a leader would speak in a few minutes. In 1993, after my father’s death, I stood for election in his home prefecture of Yamaguchi. Our family name was familiar there. The voters still had to decide for themselves whether to send me to Parliament.

Five Years and a Second Chance

I first became prime minister in 2006, at fifty-two. Within a year, my party suffered a sharp election defeat, my health deteriorated, and I resigned. In December 2012, I returned to office with a question that had troubled Japan for years. Why should a business hire a young worker today if it expected to earn less on its goods tomorrow? I described my economic program as three arrows. The Bank of Japan would act to reverse falling prices, the government would spend to support demand, and reforms would open opportunities for businesses and workers. A family could judge our progress by looking at a pay envelope and deciding what it would buy.

A Decision Above the East China Sea

In November 2013, Beijing announced that aircraft crossing a newly declared zone in the East China Sea should provide their flight plans to Chinese authorities. The zone extended over the Senkaku Islands, which Japan administers and China claims. Japanese airline crews now faced a practical question before takeoff. Whose instructions should they follow? My government told our airlines to continue under the existing procedures. I wanted Japan and China to keep talking. I also understood that if our pilots began asking Beijing’s permission as a matter of routine, a decision made quietly at an airline desk could carry consequences for years.

The Gold Stars in Washington

Illness brought my second period in office to an end in 2020. Of the days when I spoke for Japan, one in particular deserves remembering. In April 2015, before addressing the United States Congress, I visited the World War II Memorial. Each gold star on its wall represented one hundred American lives lost. I stood there in silent prayer. Later that day, in the Capitol where my grandfather had spoken, I offered condolences to the American dead. I also acknowledged the suffering Japan had brought to the peoples of Asia. I felt deep remorse as I stood before those stars. I wanted the families who remembered the war to hear that from a Japanese prime minister.

Whose Rules Should a Pilot Follow? - Told by Shinzo Abe

On November 23, 2013, China announced a decision that reached directly into the offices of Japanese airlines. Beijing had established an air defense identification zone over part of the East China Sea. Aircraft entering it were instructed to submit flight plans, maintain radio communication, and follow identification requirements. China warned that its armed forces could take emergency measures against aircraft that failed to cooperate. Imagine preparing a passenger flight along a familiar route and discovering that another government now demanded information before you crossed it. For the airline, the immediate concern was getting everyone safely to their destination. For my government, the announcement raised questions about who could impose rules over those waters.

What the Lines on the Map Meant

Japan and other countries already maintained air defense identification zones to help identify approaching aircraft. Such a zone could extend beyond a country’s territorial airspace. China’s announcement became particularly contentious because its zone overlapped Japan’s and covered the Senkaku Islands, which Japan administers and China claims under the name Diaoyu. Beijing also demanded compliance from aircraft merely passing through the zone, even when they had no intention of entering Chinese territorial airspace. My government objected to those requirements. The United States likewise opposed applying such procedures to foreign aircraft that were not approaching the country’s national airspace. A line drawn on an identification map carried consequences for pilots, but declaring it did not establish sovereignty over the entire area.

The Airlines Face a Choice

Japan Airlines and All Nippon Airways initially supplied flight information to Chinese authorities as a precaution. Their decision was understandable from the perspective of passenger safety. Yet routine compliance could help establish Beijing’s new requirements as accepted practice. On November 26, my government asked Japanese airlines to stop providing the additional information. The carriers agreed and continued operating through the zone under established procedures. Consider the responsibility involved. Airline employees had to translate a diplomatic dispute into instructions that a flight crew could follow. A captain needed clarity about whom to contact and which procedures applied before the aircraft approached the contested area.

Keeping an Argument from Becoming an Accident

The danger extended beyond paperwork. Military aircraft identifying an unfamiliar plane could approach it while governments disagreed about which rules applied. Misunderstanding, a sudden maneuver, or an unclear radio message could turn a political dispute into an emergency. In December, I reiterated that Japanese civilian aircraft would continue operating under the existing rules. Japan’s position was that freedom of flight in international airspace had to be respected. For students studying diplomacy, follow this dispute all the way to the cockpit. A government’s announcement became an airline’s decision, then a pilot’s instructions, with passengers depending on the people involved to prevent confrontation.

Soldiers Without Insignia Seize Crimea - Told by Shinzo Abe

Before dawn on February 27, 2014, armed men entered the parliament and government buildings in Simferopol, the capital of Ukraine’s Crimean peninsula. Their uniforms carried no national insignia. A Russian flag soon flew above the parliament. From Tokyo, my government watched a crisis develop around a deceptively simple question. Who was giving these men their orders? While governments sought answers, the armed men controlled the entrances. Officials could conduct business only under conditions the occupiers permitted. The seizure of a few buildings had already changed who could exercise authority inside them.

A Government in Crisis and a Fleet Already There

Ukraine was particularly vulnerable. President Viktor Yanukovych had fled Kyiv after months of protests and deadly violence, and a new leadership was struggling to establish control. Crimea had its own regional government within Ukraine, a majority ethnic Russian population, and communities with sharply different views about their future. Russia also possessed a considerable military advantage before the operation began. Its Black Sea Fleet was based at Sevastopol under agreements with Ukraine. Russian servicemen and military facilities were already present on the peninsula. Those agreements permitted a naval presence while recognizing Ukraine’s authority over its territory. My government urged Russia to observe those obligations as the crisis grew.

How a Few Positions Could Control a Peninsula

Within days, Russian forces and armed supporters secured airports, important roads, and other strategic sites. Ukrainian military bases found themselves surrounded. Consider the position of a Ukrainian commander receiving instructions from Kyiv. He might still have soldiers, weapons, and a flag flying above his headquarters, yet moving those soldiers through the gate could bring them face-to-face with Russian troops. Reinforcements faced obstacles reaching the peninsula. Aircraft depended on access to runways. An army could gain enormous control by occupying the places through which everyone else had to move. Ukraine’s leaders also faced the danger that resistance could trigger a much larger war. That uncertainty gave the advancing forces more time to consolidate their positions.

The Advantage of an Unanswered Question

Moscow initially maintained that the armed men were local self-defense groups. Their missing insignia complicated the public argument over responsibility, even as their organization and equipment raised obvious questions. For foreign governments, identifying the forces mattered when deciding how to respond. For Ukrainians inside surrounded bases, the danger was immediate regardless of the explanation offered on television. On April 17, Vladimir Putin publicly acknowledged that Russian servicemen had supported the forces operating in Crimea. By then, the decisive military and political changes had already occurred. The period of denial had coincided with the period when an outside response might have faced a less firmly established occupation.

A Vote After the Soldiers Arrived

On March 16, authorities in Crimea held a referendum under Russian military control. Voters were offered joining Russia or restoring an earlier Crimean constitutional arrangement. Keeping the existing arrangement with Ukraine was absent from the ballot. Russia presented the result as an expression of self-determination, while Ukraine and many other governments rejected the vote’s legitimacy. On March 18, Putin signed a treaty claiming Crimea and Sevastopol for Russia. Students should examine that sequence carefully. Armed forces had secured government buildings, restricted Ukrainian military movement, and established control before the referendum took place. Those conditions shaped the political process that Russia then used to justify annexation.

Why Japan Responded

For my government, events in Crimea raised a question that reached well beyond Europe. How secure could any country’s borders be if a stronger neighbor could change them through military force? Japan rejected the referendum’s validity and announced measures against Russia, including suspending talks on easing visa requirements. On March 27, the United Nations General Assembly affirmed Ukraine’s territorial integrity and declared that the referendum could provide no basis for changing Crimea’s status. Russia nevertheless retained physical control. In less than a month, soldiers had helped transform daily authority across a peninsula. International recognition and control on the ground had become two different realities that diplomats would struggle to reconcile.

My Name is Mark Shields: Political Columnist

I was born in Weymouth, Massachusetts, on May 25, 1937, into an Irish Catholic family where newspapers and political arguments were familiar household companions. My father sold paper and served on the school board. At six, I was collecting signatures for a local candidate. That was an early education in democracy. Before somebody could make a speech about serving the public, somebody else had to knock on a door and ask for a signature. I also became a devoted Boston Red Sox fan, which provided considerable practice in keeping faith through disappointing returns.

College, the Marines, and Washington

I graduated from Notre Dame in 1959 with a degree in philosophy and then enlisted in the Marine Corps. Military service put me alongside Americans whose backgrounds differed from mine and whose dependability mattered considerably more than their family connections. In 1965, I went to Washington to work for Wisconsin Senator William Proxmire. I married Anne Hudson the following year, and we later welcomed our daughter, Amy. Washington became my workplace, while Anne and our family gave me a life beyond the next election.

The Campaign That Stayed with Me

In 1968, I worked on Robert Kennedy’s presidential campaign. Campaigning meant volunteers, exhausting travel, hurried decisions, and people who believed their candidate could change their lives. Kennedy won California’s Democratic primary in June. Hours later, he was shot, and he died the following day. Those of us who had worked for him carried that loss into the years ahead. I continued working in politics, including campaigns for Edmund Muskie, Sargent Shriver, and Morris Udall. When you have watched volunteers spend their evenings making calls, an election defeat comes with faces attached.

A Column and a Friday-Night Chair

In 1979, I joined The Washington Post as an editorial writer and began the column that would eventually appear in newspapers around the country. Television followed, including decades of Friday political analysis on the PBS NewsHour. I brought Democratic convictions and campaign experience to discussions with David Gergen, Paul Gigot, and David Brooks. By 2016, stolen emails and online campaigns were changing the questions journalists faced. My work centered on their political consequences—what voters learned, what candidates answered for, and whose concerns received attention. I wanted viewers to hear an argument clearly enough to make their own judgment.

What I Could Still Learn

I retired from my regular NewsHour appearances in December 2020. After so many elections, I understood how easily a commentator could become too impressed with his own explanation. A voter might have reasons that never occurred to the fellow on television. David Brooks and I spent years disagreeing and remained friends. That friendship required listening, including on evenings when I arrived quite certain I was right. Certainty comes easily in Washington. Admitting that another person has taught you something takes a little more practice.

When the Other Party Starts to Look Dangerous - Told by Mark Shields

On Friday evenings, David Brooks and I sat across from each other on the PBS NewsHour. I’d worked for Democratic candidates. David was a conservative columnist. A viewer who knew that much could make a fair guess about where each of us would come down on a tax bill. Now suppose that viewer wanted to know whether I trusted David to give my argument a fair hearing. Knowing my position on taxes wouldn’t get him very far. In June 2014, the Pew Research Center published a study that took both questions seriously. Its pollsters had interviewed 10,013 American adults by telephone. They wanted to know where Americans stood on the issues and how they felt about the party on the other side.

What Ten Answers Could Tell You

Imagine you’re the pollster. You give a caller two statements about environmental regulation. One emphasizes the cost to businesses and workers. The other emphasizes the value of protections worth paying for. Which comes closer to the caller’s view? Pew did this across ten questions, including questions about immigration and the role of government. Researchers scored the answers, grouped respondents by party, and compared the results with earlier surveys. In 1994, the typical Republican gave more conservative answers than 70 percent of Democrats. By 2014, that figure had reached 94 percent. The parties still contained people with mixed views, but if you knew someone’s party, you had a much better shot at guessing the rest of his answers than you’d had twenty years earlier.

When Disagreement Became Alarm

Then came a question a voter could answer without discussing a single bill. How favorably did she view the other party? In 1994, 17 percent of Republicans gave Democrats the harshest rating, “very unfavorable.” Among Democrats rating Republicans, the figure was 16 percent. By 2014, those numbers had climbed to 43 percent and 38 percent. Pew asked people who gave that rating a follow-up question. Did they believe the other party’s policies actually threatened the country’s well-being? Across all Republicans surveyed, 36 percent went that far. Across all Democrats, 27 percent did. A pollster who stopped after the ten policy questions would have missed that part of the story entirely.

Who Shows Up on Election Day?

I spent enough time on campaigns to pay attention to who volunteers on a Saturday morning. Pew found that Americans with the most sharply divided political views were especially likely to vote in primaries, donate money, and contact officials. Most Americans still preferred leaders who would meet halfway. Now put yourself in the shoes of a candidate deciding whether to compromise on a bill. The neighbor who would thank you for making a deal may be home having supper. The neighbor who considers that deal dangerous may already be at your town meeting, waiting for the microphone.

Could a Ceasefire Hold in Eastern Ukraine? - Told by Zbigniew Brzezinski

On February 15, 2015, at midnight Kyiv time, a ceasefire was supposed to take effect in eastern Ukraine. Consider what that hour meant in Debaltseve, a railway junction where Ukrainian troops faced Russian-backed separatists. Four days earlier, diplomats had been gathering in Minsk, the capital of Belarus. Now families in Debaltseve had a simpler way to judge the negotiations. Could they come out of their shelters? The fighting continued, and on February 18 Ukrainian forces withdrew from the town. The first test of the agreement came at a place both sides still had a military reason to hold.

Where Did the Artillery Go?

The agreement reached on February 12, known as Minsk II, called for both sides to pull their heavy weapons back. For artillery guns of 100 millimeters or larger, the aim was to create a zone at least 50 kilometers wide between the opposing guns. Longer-range rocket systems required greater distances. As a former national security adviser, I would ask you to follow one gun. Suppose an observer saw a truck towing it away from the front. He could record the time, the road, and the direction of travel. By evening, what could he tell a family living within its range? To answer, he would need to find that gun at its destination, check the location against the agreed withdrawal line, and return later to see whether it was still there.

Six Guns Behind a Gate

That was the work of civilian monitors from the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe. At one Ukrainian military storage site in April, monitors inspected the weapons individually and wrote down their serial numbers. Each number gave them a way to recognize that particular gun on a return visit. A July report shows why the detail mattered. At a separatist site, monitors were denied access to check the serial numbers on six antitank guns. On visits to eleven Ukrainian military sites, they also found four where they could not confirm that every weapon previously recorded was still present. An accurate report had to leave open a question that each army would have liked answered in its favor. Where were the guns the observers could no longer account for?

What an Observer Could Promise

Minsk II gave the monitors a way to test what commanders told them. It gave them no power to open a locked gate. A missing gun warranted another inspection. A claim that someone had taken it back to the front and fired it required further evidence. Fighting and repeated ceasefire violations continued in eastern Ukraine. For a family deciding whether it was safe to go home, the most honest answer a monitor could give was also the most precise one: which guns he had seen, where he had seen them, and how long it had been since anyone had checked.

Hillary Clinton’s Reset Button and Obama’s Hot-Mic Remarks — Questions About U.S.–Russia Relations - Told by Mark Shields

On March 6, 2009, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton handed Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov a red button intended to symbolize a fresh start in relations. Unfortunately, its Russian label meant “overload” rather than “reset.” Lavrov pointed out the mistake, and both officials laughed before pressing it together. Anyone who has worked in politics understands the appeal of a photograph that explains a policy in one glance. The harder work comes afterward. The Obama administration wanted cooperation with Russia on nuclear weapons, Afghanistan, and other problems. Critics questioned whether Washington was offering too much goodwill to a government whose ambitions had changed very little.

The Microphone That Kept Listening

Three years later, another small object created a much larger controversy. On March 26, 2012, a microphone captured President Obama speaking with Russian President Dmitry Medvedev in Seoul. They were discussing missile defense, a persistent disagreement between Washington and Moscow. Obama asked for room to negotiate and said, “After my election, I have more flexibility.” Medvedev replied that he would pass the information to Vladimir Putin, who was preparing to return to Russia’s presidency. The exchange revealed a president privately connecting his negotiating freedom to the American election calendar. Voters suddenly heard a conversation neither leader had intended as a public announcement.

What Did “Flexibility” Mean?

For critics, the obvious question was what Obama expected to offer after voters had cast their ballots. Would American missile-defense plans become bargaining material? Could allies discover that commitments they valued were open to negotiation? Those were legitimate questions, particularly because the president had supplied no detailed explanation in the recorded exchange. Having spent years around campaigns, I recognize that political timing influences what candidates say. Citizens still have reason to ask whether a private assurance matches the policy being presented publicly and why it was only caught after a hot mic caught it.

How Far the Evidence Goes

Some critics described the exchange as evidence of collusion or a concealed understanding with Russia. The recording establishes that Obama sought negotiating space and anticipated greater flexibility after the election. It contains no specified concession, agreement to exchange favors, or request for Russian electoral assistance. Those stronger allegations require additional evidence. Russia’s seizure and annexation of Crimea in 2014 later intensified criticism that the reset had underestimated Putin. That outcome deserves examination alongside the earlier diplomatic choices. A fair judgment begins with the words actually spoken, follows the decisions that came afterward, and asks whether American interests and allies were adequately protected.

My Name is Howard Schmidt: Cyber Security Advisor Under George Bush

I built my first computer because I wanted to bounce a radio signal off the moon. A friend had introduced me to shortwave radio, and pretty soon I was assembling radio kits myself. My computer, a little Sinclair ZX80, helped me do the calculations. I also built equipment to track amateur radio satellites as they passed over Arizona. If you knew when a satellite would come within range, you could be ready to hear it. That was the pleasure of the whole business. You worked something out on paper, built the equipment with your own hands, and then you listened.

A Police Officer Examines a Computer

I served in the Air Force during the Vietnam War and later became a police officer in Chandler, Arizona. By the 1980s, police departments were encountering a practical problem. An officer could take a computer into evidence, but what should he do with it back at the station? Simply turning it on could change information he might later need in court. My police work and my electronics hobby had finally met. I went on to lead a computer investigations team for the FBI and helped establish a computer forensics laboratory for the Air Force, where investigators could examine digital evidence and explain exactly how they had handled it.

From Microsoft to the White House

I was Microsoft’s chief security officer when the September 11 attacks changed the course of my career. In December 2001, President George W. Bush appointed me to help protect the computer systems Americans depended on. Think about what happens when you turn on a faucet. Somewhere, a water operator is relying on instruments to tell whether pumps and valves are working properly. The person who knows that system best may work for a town hundreds of miles from Washington. If we wanted a national cybersecurity plan that worked, that operator needed a voice in it.

Who Looks After the Small Shop?

After serving President Bush, I led security at eBay. In 2009, President Barack Obama brought me back to the White House as cybersecurity coordinator. Across those jobs, I kept coming back to the small-business owner. A shopkeeper might use one computer to order stock, pay employees, and keep the books. If it went down on Thursday, the question was whether people would get paid on Friday. Those of us who understood the technology owed that shopkeeper advice he could actually use. And we owed him the humility to listen when he told us which part of our advice made no sense.

Why Would a Spy Want a Background Check? - Told by Howard Schmidt

Suppose you’re applying for a federal job that requires access to classified information. You list an address where you lived several years ago. The next box asks for someone who knew you there. You think of a neighbor and write down his name. As a former police officer, I can tell you why an investigator wants it. An address is a claim someone can check. A neighbor gives the investigator a place to start. Now consider what happens when a stranger steals the completed form. He gets two names, learns how those people know each other, and discovers where their lives crossed. That is quite a return from two boxes on one page.

What Disappeared from the Files

On July 9, 2015, the U.S. Office of Personnel Management announced that attackers had stolen background-investigation data affecting 21.5 million people. About 19.7 million had applied for investigations. The remaining 1.8 million were mostly applicants’ spouses or people who lived with them. Some could receive word that their Social Security number had been stolen without ever having filled out the form themselves. Depending on the investigation, a file could contain employment history, foreign contacts, financial difficulties, and findings from interviews. In some cases, the intruders also obtained fingerprints.

What a Foreign Intelligence Officer Could Learn

When I investigated computer crime, one useful question was what the thief could do next. Consider an applicant who disclosed an overdue debt. The American investigator could ask how it arose and whether the applicant was taking care of it. A foreign intelligence officer reading the same answer might see someone worth approaching with an offer of paid consulting work. An old employer’s name could help make the offer sound genuine. Or the officer might compare several files and discover that the same person had worked with three applicants on different assignments. A name that seemed unremarkable in one file could become interesting by the third.

The Part You Can’t Replace

When officials announced the theft, they said they had no information at that point showing that anyone had misused the stolen material. That distinction matters. An investigator can establish what an intruder took while still having little evidence of what the intruder did afterward. The families involved had to live with that uncertainty. You can change a password the afternoon you learn it was stolen. Years later, the name of the neighbor who knew you at your old address will still be the right answer.

The CIA Searches Senate Investigators’ Files: Who Watches the Watchers? - Told by Mark Shields and Howard Schmidt

Mark Shields: Imagine investigating a government agency while doing your research on computers that agency provides. That was the arrangement facing Senate Intelligence Committee staff studying the CIA’s detention and interrogation program. They examined millions of pages of classified documents at a secure CIA facility. Their work was supposed to receive protection from agency interference. Then, in March 2014, committee chairwoman Dianne Feinstein publicly accused the CIA of improperly searching the computer system her staff used. The agency under investigation had begun investigating its investigators.

Howard Schmidt: The technical arrangement helps explain how that happened. Senate staff had a separate workspace on a CIA-managed system, where they reviewed documents and prepared their findings. Computer administrators could possess the technical ability to reach material without having agreed authority to examine it. That distinction becomes critical when the users represent Congress and the administrators work for an executive-branch agency. Clear permissions and agreed procedures were essential to protecting the committee’s independent work. lawfaremedia.org

The Documents Both Sides Wanted

Mark Shields: The confrontation centered on an internal CIA assessment known as the Panetta Review. Feinstein said it supported important findings in the committee’s investigation and contradicted parts of the agency’s public defense. Senate staff had obtained portions through the document system made available to them. CIA officials questioned how they had acquired material the agency regarded as internal. Feinstein maintained that her staff had found it through ordinary searches and accused the CIA’s response of threatening Congress’s ability to oversee intelligence activities.

Howard Schmidt: The CIA examined the system while investigating a suspected security breach. That created an immediate conflict. Security personnel wanted to determine how sensitive documents had been accessed, while Senate investigators expected their research and communications to remain protected. A sound inquiry needed an agreed boundary around the committee’s work. Without one, actions taken in the name of network security could expose material belonging to the people examining the agency’s conduct.

Two Reviews, Different Conclusions

Mark Shields: The CIA’s inspector general found that agency personnel had acted improperly in accessing Senate material. Yet the dispute did not end with that finding. A later accountability board, chaired by former senator Evan Bayh, recommended no disciplinary action against the five employees it reviewed. For anyone following the controversy, that raised another question. How could an internal investigation identify improper access while a subsequent review recommend no punishment?

Howard Schmidt: The board concluded that those employees had acted reasonably under confusing circumstances and unclear procedures. It acknowledged that five Senate emails had been accessed inappropriately, but described that access as a mistake for which the five employees under review were not responsible. In January 2015, the CIA accepted recommendations that included written agreements governing access and security investigations on shared networks. Students should examine both findings carefully. Protecting classified information and protecting congressional oversight required rules that specified who could search, what they could examine, and who would authorize the search.

The Hack That Turned Out the Lights - Told by Howard Schmidt

On the afternoon of December 23, 2015, an operator at an electric utility in western Ukraine watched something disturbing happen on his computer. The cursor moved across the screen without his hand guiding it. Someone was remotely using the controls that managed electrical equipment miles away. A circuit breaker opened at a substation, interrupting the flow of electricity. Then more breakers opened. Imagine being responsible for keeping power flowing while another person operates your controls in front of you. Outside the control room, customers experienced the consequences immediately. Lights went dark, appliances stopped, and neighboring buildings lost power together.

The Attack Began Months Earlier

I had worked in law enforcement, private industry, and the White House, and one question followed me through every computer investigation. How did the intruder get inside? In Ukraine, investigators traced the operation back to malicious emails sent to utility employees. Attached Microsoft Office documents could install malicious software when recipients enabled their active content. That gave attackers an opening into office networks. Over the following months, they studied the systems and gathered credentials that would help them reach other parts of the utilities. The preparations happened long before a family noticed its first flickering light. An employee opening a document and a breaker opening at a substation were separated by months of deliberate work.

Learning How the Utility Worked

A power company depends on several kinds of computers. Some handle email and business records. Others help operators monitor electrical conditions and send commands to equipment. Remote access allows authorized workers to do certain jobs without traveling to every location. The attackers obtained access that let them exploit those capabilities. They learned enough about the utilities’ operating systems to issue commands through tools already used by employees. Consider why that matters. A properly functioning breaker will open when it receives an accepted command. Its mechanical parts have no way to judge whether the person directing that command is a trusted operator or an intruder using stolen access.

Three Utilities, One Coordinated Blow

The attack struck three Ukrainian electricity distributors within roughly thirty minutes. About 225,000 customers lost service, with outages lasting approximately one to six hours. Coordination made the emergency more difficult because several companies were responding at once. The attackers also interfered with recovery. Malicious software damaged computer systems, and equipment used to communicate with substations was disabled. A flood of calls overwhelmed a utility’s telephone service, making it harder for customers to report trouble. Think of the frustration at both ends of that telephone line. A household wanted to know when electricity would return, while utility employees needed reliable information about the extent of the outage.

The Workers Who Restored Electricity

The Ukrainian crews still understood the physical equipment. They could travel to substations and operate switches manually, bypassing some of the damaged remote-control systems. That knowledge helped restore electricity within hours. Yet restoring power and repairing the computer systems were different jobs with different timelines. Some equipment could supply customers again while its normal remote operation remained impaired. For students, this is an important part of the story. The attackers had spent months preparing, but experienced workers still possessed skills the intruders could not erase from a hard drive. Recovery depended on people who understood how electricity moved through the equipment in front of them.

What a Family Could See

From a cybersecurity adviser’s perspective, the Ukrainian attack demanded attention because it connected an intrusion into computers with a widespread interruption of an essential service. Investigators could examine malicious files, stolen credentials, and records of commands. A family could look through its window and see a darkened street. Both were observing consequences of the same operation. When the lights returned, the household could resume its evening, while the utility faced the longer task of rebuilding trustworthy controls. The question for everyone responsible for essential services was practical. If remote systems failed or fell into hostile hands, who could still operate the equipment, and how quickly could those people reach it?

The Government Obtains Reporters’ Phone Records — Who Was Calling the Newsroom? - Told by Mark Shields and Howard Schmidt

The Letter That Arrived Afterward

Mark Shields: Imagine being a reporter who has promised to protect a confidential source. Then your employer receives a letter saying federal investigators have already obtained records of calls involving your newsroom. That happened to the Associated Press in May 2013. The Justice Department disclosed that it had secretly obtained telephone records covering parts of April and May 2012 for more than twenty lines used by AP journalists and offices. Reporters’ work, home, and cellphone numbers were among them. The AP had received no advance opportunity to challenge the demand. For journalists, the immediate question was how many people who had trusted them might now be identifiable.

Howard Schmidt: A telephone record can reveal a great deal without including a recording of the conversation. Numbers, dates, and call duration can help investigators establish connections. Suppose a government employee calls a journalist repeatedly before a sensitive story appears. Investigators might compare those calls with the employee’s access to the information. That pattern could justify further investigation, although a call alone cannot establish what anyone said. The same records can also expose contacts who had nothing to do with the matter being investigated. That is why the scope of a request matters so much.

The Secret Behind the Investigation

Mark Shields: The investigation concerned an AP report published on May 7, 2012, about a disrupted terrorist plot involving an aircraft bound for the United States. The story described an operation against an al-Qaeda affiliate in Yemen. AP said it had delayed publication after officials raised security concerns and published after being told those concerns had eased. From the newsroom’s perspective, its journalists had taken the government’s warning seriously. A year later, they learned that investigators had obtained records reaching across a much broader range of reporting activity.

Howard Schmidt: Officials were investigating the unauthorized disclosure of classified information. Their concern was that revealing an intelligence operation could expose methods, endanger people, or interfere with future operations. Attorney General Eric Holder publicly described the leak as exceptionally serious, although he had recused himself from supervising the investigation after being interviewed in it. Deputy Attorney General James Cole approved the subpoenas. Investigators had a responsibility to examine a potentially damaging disclosure. The controversy centered on how they exercised that responsibility and how much unrelated newsgathering their methods could expose.

The Source Who Stops Calling

Mark Shields: Here is the concern that stays with a journalist. A source thinking about exposing waste or misconduct might hear this story and decide that contacting a reporter is too risky. AP president Gary Pruitt reported that sources had become more reluctant to talk after the records seizure became public. That consequence reaches beyond the investigation that prompted it. A reporter covering a veterans’ hospital or a government contract could lose access to people with firsthand knowledge because they feared their calls would identify them. The public would never know which stories those conversations might have produced.

Howard Schmidt: Investigators, meanwhile, argued that the records helped identify the source of the disclosure. In September 2013, authorities announced that former FBI agent and contractor Donald Sachtleben would plead guilty to unlawfully disclosing national-defense information. The Justice Department said it connected him to the AP disclosures by comparing the telephone records with other evidence. That result belongs in the account alongside the criticism. Records can assist a legitimate investigation while their collection raises serious questions about breadth, notice, and safeguards. Evaluating the method requires examining both its usefulness and its effects.

Changing the Rules

Mark Shields: After criticism from journalists, lawmakers, and civil-liberties advocates, President Obama directed Holder to review the department’s policies. In July 2013, the Justice Department announced changes strengthening oversight and the expectation that news organizations would receive notice and an opportunity for discussion before investigators sought their records. Revised regulations followed in 2014. Notice mattered because it could give a newsroom a chance to challenge an overly broad request before confidential relationships were exposed.

Howard Schmidt: Exceptions remained, including circumstances in which officials believed notice could seriously harm an investigation or national security. The revised policies also limited access to collected records and their use. Students should examine what each safeguard accomplishes. Narrow requests reduce the amount of unrelated information collected. Senior review requires someone to justify the intrusion. Notice allows objections to be heard. The question raised by that letter to the AP remained a practical one—what evidence does an investigation need, and what protections should apply before the government obtains a newsroom’s communications records?

Two Parties, Two Primary Revolts - Told by Mark Shields

On February 9, 2016, New Hampshire voters gave Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders victories in their parties’ presidential primaries. Trump, a businessman who had never held elected office, defeated a Republican field filled with governors and senators. Sanders, an independent senator from Vermont seeking the Democratic nomination, defeated Hillary Clinton by more than twenty percentage points. Having worked on campaigns myself, I knew what the losing candidates’ staffs would be doing that evening. They would study the returns, rewrite speeches, and explain why the next state would be different. Yet the winners had already demonstrated something consequential. Many voters were dissatisfied with the choices their party’s most established leaders preferred.

Republicans Argue About the Factory Down the Road

For years, Republican leaders had generally supported freer trade as a way to expand markets and strengthen American business. Trump challenged that argument by pointing to communities that had lost manufacturing jobs. He promised to renegotiate trade agreements and confront countries he accused of taking advantage of American workers. Pew’s March 2016 polling found particularly strong criticism of trade agreements among his supporters. This exposed a disagreement within the Republican coalition. A business owner might welcome cheaper imported materials, while a worker in the same town worried about competing with lower-paid labor abroad. Trump gave the second person a prominent voice in a party whose leadership had frequently emphasized the first person’s opportunities.

Who Could Speak for the Republican Party?

Trump also made immigration enforcement central to his campaign, promising a wall along the Mexican border and taking positions that alarmed some Republican leaders while attracting enthusiastic supporters. His confrontational manner became another dividing line. Supporters welcomed a candidate willing to challenge politicians, journalists, and party officials openly. Critics within the party questioned his judgment, temperament, and commitment to conservative principles. Meanwhile, his opponents represented different Republican traditions themselves. Ted Cruz emphasized ideological conservatism, while John Kasich presented himself as an experienced governor capable of bringing people together. Republican voters were choosing among competing ideas about what their party should become. Trump eventually secured its nomination.

Sanders Asks Democrats to Aim Higher

On the Democratic side, Sanders argued that the economy and political system gave wealthy people too much influence. His proposals included tuition-free public college, a national single-payer health insurance system, and tougher action against major financial institutions. He attracted crowds and small donations, especially from younger Americans. Clinton offered experience in government and argued for changes that could build on existing programs, including the Affordable Care Act. Here was a serious disagreement among people who shared many broad goals. Should Democrats campaign for sweeping changes that might mobilize new voters, or concentrate on proposals they believed could survive negotiations in Washington? To a student facing tuition bills, that argument could feel considerably more urgent than a debate about campaign strategy.

South Carolina Changes the Picture

New Hampshire’s result did not settle what Democratic voters wanted. On February 27, Clinton won South Carolina with approximately seventy-three percent of the vote. Black voters made up most of the Democratic primary electorate there and supported her overwhelmingly. Sanders’s strength among young voters was real, but Clinton had deep support among other parts of the party, including older voters. A campaign crowd can tell you who is excited enough to attend. An election also counts the people who went to work, cared for their families, and quietly stopped at a polling place. Clinton’s broader coalition ultimately carried her to the nomination, while Sanders demonstrated the strength of demands for more ambitious economic change.

The Argument Continued After the Balloting

By the autumn, each party had a nominee, but neither had erased its internal disagreements. Pew found that many Republicans who had opposed Trump in the primaries remained uncertain that he represented what their party should stand for. Among Democrats, most Sanders supporters accepted Clinton as representing Democratic principles, although differences over policy and party leadership persisted. I would ask students to remember that a political party contains people with different livelihoods, priorities, and expectations. In 2016, the primary elections brought those differences into public view. The nominees then faced a demanding assignment familiar to every campaign worker—persuading people who had fought one another for months to work together before November.

Questions Before the Debate — Donna Brazile and Campaign Fairness - Told by Mark Shields

Before a presidential debate, campaign workers rehearse answers, anticipate attacks, and imagine every uncomfortable question their candidate might face. I worked on enough campaigns to understand why preparation matters. In 2016, however, Hillary Clinton’s campaign received advance information that raised a serious question about fairness. Donna Brazile, then a Democratic National Committee vice chair and a paid CNN political contributor, privately passed along information about questions for upcoming candidate events. Her overlapping responsibilities placed her close to both the political competition and the television coverage through which voters judged it.

Two Messages in March

On March 5, Brazile emailed Clinton aides about a question expected at the following day’s debate in Flint, Michigan. She described a woman affected by the water crisis who would ask what Clinton would do to help the city. Water contamination was an obvious subject for a Flint debate, but knowing details about a particular questioner offered more specific preparation. On March 12, Brazile sent Clinton communications director Jennifer Palmieri a question about the death penalty before a CNN–TV One town hall. A closely matching question was asked the next day. For Bernie Sanders’s supporters, those messages supplied a concrete reason to question whether the candidates were receiving equal treatment.

The Emails Become Public

The exchanges became public in October through WikiLeaks releases of emails stolen from Clinton campaign chairman John Podesta’s account. By then, the Democratic nomination contest had ended, and Clinton was campaigning against Donald Trump. Yet the disclosures reopened arguments about how the primary had been conducted. CNN said it had not provided Brazile with questions in advance and expressed strong discomfort with her interactions with Clinton’s campaign. The network accepted her resignation as a contributor on October 14 and publicly confirmed the separation later that month. Brazile initially disputed accusations that she had improperly supplied questions.

An Admission and a Question of Trust

In March 2017, Brazile acknowledged sharing potential town-hall topics with Clinton’s campaign and expressed regret for sending the emails. That acknowledgment mattered because voters deserved a clear account of what happened. The messages did not establish how many votes, if any, changed because of the assistance. They did establish a problem with the process. A candidate’s staff had received information viewers expected to emerge during a public event. From my years discussing politics on television, I understood that a commentator could openly hold political convictions while still accepting professional limits. Once private assistance crossed those limits, viewers had reason to question the fairness of what they watched.

The Philippines Challenges China’s Maritime Claims - Told by Shinzo Abe

Before a Philippine fishing crew leaves port, its members must pay for fuel, food, and ice to preserve their catch. Those expenses remain even if the boat returns empty. Consider a crew preparing to sail from the coastal town of Masinloc toward Scarborough Shoal, a ring of reefs and rocks surrounding a lagoon. Generations of fishermen had worked those waters. After a confrontation between Philippine and Chinese vessels in 2012, Chinese government ships maintained control of access and prevented Filipino fishermen from pursuing their traditional fishing there. A captain now faced a question that could determine his family’s income. Would he reach the fishing grounds, or spend his fuel only to be turned away?

A Dispute Drawn Across the Sea

China’s claims extended far beyond this single shoal. Chinese maps displayed a line of nine dashes curving around much of the South China Sea, where several neighboring countries also claimed islands and maritime rights. Beijing invoked historical activity to support claims to resources within that line. For the Philippines, the consequences involved fishing grounds, offshore energy, and the ability to use waters near its coast. As Japan’s prime minister, I understood why the dispute attracted international attention. Commercial ships carrying goods and energy traveled through this region. Decisions about who could control its resources and activities affected countries far beyond the shorelines visible from a fishing boat.

The Philippines Takes Its Case to Arbitration

In January 2013, the Philippines began arbitration under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea. Both countries had joined that treaty, which establishes rules governing maritime rights. Among those rules, a coastal country generally has rights to resources within an exclusive economic zone extending up to 200 nautical miles from its coast, subject to overlapping entitlements and other provisions. The Philippines asked the tribunal to examine China’s claims and conduct against those rules. China rejected the proceedings and declined to participate, arguing that the tribunal lacked jurisdiction over the dispute. The judges examined that objection and concluded they could decide important parts of the Philippine case.

What the Judges Decided

On July 12, 2016, the tribunal issued its ruling. It found no legal basis for China to claim historic rights to resources within the nine-dash line beyond the rights permitted by the treaty. Historical navigation and fishing did not establish exclusive Chinese control over those resources. The tribunal also examined reefs, rocks, and islands, because their natural characteristics determine what maritime rights they can generate. Building an artificial island does not automatically create the rights of a natural island. The ruling left sovereignty over disputed land features unresolved and did not draw a maritime boundary between the countries. Its conclusions nevertheless challenged major foundations of China’s expansive claims.

The Fishermen’s Rights at Scarborough Shoal

For the crew from Masinloc, one finding mattered immediately. The tribunal recognized Scarborough Shoal as a traditional fishing ground used by fishermen from several countries, including the Philippines and China. It found that China had unlawfully prevented Filipino fishermen from exercising their traditional fishing rights there. Notice how carefully the judges approached the question. They could recognize longstanding fishing rights while leaving ownership of the shoal undecided. That distinction protected the livelihoods of people whose work had crossed disputed waters for generations. A Filipino fisherman’s claim rested on the history of fishing there, and Chinese fishermen possessed traditional rights as well.

A Judgment Meets a Coast Guard Ship

My government urged the parties to comply with the final, legally binding award and pursue a peaceful settlement. China rejected the ruling. The tribunal had no fleet that could escort fishermen through a blockade, so the practical situation still depended on actions at sea and negotiations between governments. Later in 2016, following a diplomatic opening between Beijing and the new Philippine administration, Filipino crews regained access to fishing along the shoal’s outer edge. Chinese coast guard vessels remained, and access to the lagoon continued to be restricted. A captain could carry the knowledge that an international tribunal had recognized his rights. Whether he returned with fish still depended on what happened when his boat approached the reef.

Stolen Emails Enter an American Election - Told by Schmidt and Shields

Howard Schmidt: On March 19, 2016, Hillary Clinton’s campaign chairman, John Podesta, received an email that appeared to warn him about an unauthorized attempt to access his Google account. It urged him to change his password through a link. That message was part of a targeted deception called spear phishing. The link led toward a counterfeit sign-in process designed to capture his credentials. An attacker could make a warning look convincing enough that someone trying to secure an account instead handed over access. For investigators, that original message became evidence. Its addresses and links offered places to begin tracing the operation.

Mark Shields: And once someone had those private messages, Howard, he possessed something a campaign manager would immediately recognize as valuable. Campaigns spend months arranging speeches, advertisements, and announcements to reach voters at particular moments. A collection of stolen correspondence gave outsiders material they could release on their own schedule. An email sitting unread in a stolen archive had one kind of value. The same email published just before a convention could force a candidate to answer questions while millions of people were watching.

Following the Intruder’s Trail

Howard Schmidt: Investigators examined the phishing messages, the destinations behind shortened links, malicious software, and records of unauthorized activity. Researchers connected the targeting of Podesta to a wider campaign against many individuals. Separately, investigators examining the Democratic National Committee’s network found evidence of intrusions associated with two groups linked to Russian intelligence. Attribution requires comparing several kinds of evidence. An internet address might lead to a rented server or a compromised computer in another country. Investigators therefore look for connections among infrastructure, techniques, targets, and other intelligence before identifying who directed an operation.

Mark Shields: That investigation takes time, while a presidential campaign keeps moving. On July 22, WikiLeaks released thousands of stolen Democratic National Committee emails, three days before the party’s convention opened in Philadelphia. Some messages showed officials expressing hostility toward Bernie Sanders, whose supporters had already questioned the committee’s fairness. Chairwoman Debbie Wasserman Schultz announced she would resign after the convention. Democrats had planned to present a united party. Instead, arriving delegates faced renewed arguments about how the nomination contest had been conducted. The publication date helped determine when that argument erupted.

The Announcement on October 7

Howard Schmidt: On October 7, the Department of Homeland Security and the Office of the Director of National Intelligence publicly stated that the intelligence community was confident the Russian government had directed recent thefts of emails from American people and institutions, including political organizations. Officials described the disclosures as intended to interfere with the American election process. Their public statement summarized an intelligence judgment without revealing every piece of evidence behind it. Citizens could examine the judgment, ask how it had been reached, and recognize that some supporting intelligence remained classified.

Mark Shields: That same day, WikiLeaks began releasing Podesta’s emails, with additional batches appearing through the closing weeks of the campaign. A daily release gave journalists fresh material to examine and campaign officials fresh questions to answer. Think about a voter who opened the news each morning. Repeated headlines could keep the subject prominent even when individual messages concerned different matters. The timing of publication shaped the campaign’s conversation. Establishing exactly why a particular release occurred at a particular hour would require evidence about the decisions behind it.

Reading the Message and the Moment

Howard Schmidt: A careful investigator also distinguishes the theft, the publication, and the contents of each document. Evidence establishing unauthorized access does not automatically authenticate every item later circulated online. Original files, message headers, and corroborating records help test individual claims. The public attribution concerned stolen communications and an effort to influence the election. Determining whether an intrusion altered voting systems or vote totals would require its own evidence. Precision matters because an inaccurate claim can spread faster than investigators can correct it.

Mark Shields: Voters likewise had several judgments to make. An authentic email might reveal conduct that deserved scrutiny, while its release could serve the interests of the people who stole it. Both questions warranted attention. We could observe resignations, headlines, and candidates changing their public responses. We could not count exactly how many votes a particular disclosure changed. I would ask students to read the surrounding correspondence, consider the evidence, and examine the calendar. What did the message establish, and why did Americans encounter it at that moment?