At the time, one particularly flourishing business was the market of forged identities for wealthy exiles and spies in and out of the region. It was nearly impossible for the US and Great Britain to infiltrate native agents in Iran, so they had only two ways to get around it. First, was to rely on the networks of allies, like France or Italy or Germany, with the risk of getting second-handed or false information.
Their second option was to train agents that looked and talked like native Europeans or Middle Easterners, and build them a perfect cover story in a different nation. To do this properly you needed the help of the host country to make sure the details of the picture fitted together; from the social security number to the name of his parents. Printing a fake passport was the last thing to worry about.
The same problem appeared on the opposite side. From Iran, there were spies, traitors and outlaws who needed to rebuild a life without the attention of the Iranian secret police. As long as they could speak Arabic fluently, I could quickly put together a background story with the help of the Egyptian secret service.
For those with an Azerbaijan background, Turkey was given the responsibility to naturalize them as Turks due to the cultural proximity. Armenians were typically taken care of by the French. In any case, there was a mutual exchange between secret services which gave them access to each other’s “fake identity warehouses”.
“Why would they come to you? Couldn’t they just talk to each other?”
“Of course, and in many cases they would. The CIA does not need me to ask a favor to the British MI6 or the Mossad. But Iranians had a bit more trouble in directly approaching their counterparts.
They had a station in Bahrain that they used as outpost to talk to other Arab countries of the Gulf, mainly Saudi Arabia. After the war with Iraq broke out, Bahrain and Kuwait became the equivalent of Istanbul and Lisbon during World War II in Europe. They knew I was working for Iraq but I had purposely built my reputation as a professional and not as a partisan, so they would feel comfortable to approach me.
I gave them access to the Egyptians and the French and, in return, my importance in the eyes of the British and the Americans grew enormously. To put it short, Louis, if you happen to pass by the Middle East and run into trouble, just drop me a call. Chances are, I can help you out no matter what.”
This was exactly what I was looking for, so I decided to put Tarek on Telomerax immediately. But a test was required, before the full disclosure. The key test, which Tarek was completely unaware of, took place in October of 1993, just after the Oslo agreement between Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organization of Yasser Arafat. He was back at the clinic with his wife, and during the dinner I deliberately started playing good cop.
“Tarek, it looks like you will soon be out of business. Saddam Hussein is under control, confined in his own country. The Berlin wall has fallen and no one can dispute the supremacy of the US. The Soviet Union is transitioning with difficulty, but in peace, to a more democratic and liberal regime. I am afraid I won’t see you again, as you will move back to Beirut beauty shops.”
“Louis, you do not have to worry at all. I am sure all of this is going to end in my favor. You are disregarding the underlying factors. They entail more tension and conflict.”
“You mean, the terrorists might backfire?”
“I am giving you a synopsis, not talking about specifics, but nothing in the groundwork is set in the right direction.”
“Nothing? I mean, Tarek, communism is dead, economic growth is more robust than ever, and people are rushing to re-establish freedom everywhere..”
“People rush to re-establish what they were already used to and what they liked. In Yugoslavia, people are more interested in settling old nationalist scores, rather than in restoring democracy and rule of law. Just look at the massacre in Sarajevo. The Middle East is no exception.
Over the last forty years, governments have tried to modernize society in vain. They are now steadily losing territory, power, and influence to those that want to restore traditional order.
Saudi Arabia is full of resentment against America after having been saved by Saddam.
But I am wasting my time and yours. Here in the West, you just cannot understand.”
“I understand very well that the Saudi regime is certainly not a liberal one, but given some time…”
“You see? You use the word regime, and you immediately imply alot of other things.
For example, that people do not like the system but cannot change it due to lack of power. Also, that if given the right conditions they would transform it into something like Switzerland, except with a lot of sand instead of snow. You refuse to see the reality. The simple fact is that the vast majority of Saudis, Iranians, and Syrians do not call it a regime. They call it a government and you know why?
Because they are all in all satisfied with the life they are living, and no matter how imperfect these governments may seem, they see them as the best guarantee to preserve their traditions and values against a number of external threats. These threats include things like the multinational oil companies and pornography. However, I am not saying they are right. I am saying this is how they see, feel, and therefore are. And you cannot change it….at least for now. It would take generations to change a culture, so we would certainly not witness it in our lifetimes.”
“All right, but at least between the Israelis and the Palestinians things are going better and this will eventually reduce tensions.”
“Ah yes, our cousins! I am not optimistic about them, either. I know you won’t believe me, but I will tell you anyway. This peace agreement is a much bigger danger for them than for the Palestinians. They risk losing the single, biggest reason of their unity, the enemy from outside. I swear, the Israeli leaders, Shimon Peres and Ytzhak Rabin, have much more to fear from their fellow citizens than from their old enemy, Yasser Arafat.”
“Tarek, I cannot agree. You are speaking out of past resentment, and although I understand it, I cannot justify it.”
“You will see, Louis. Nobody is ready for peace because they all live with war. And people always choose what they know, and what keeps them alive. Even if this requires some sacrifice from time to time. Simply put, people never grow up.”
On November 4, 1995, Ygal Amir, a right-winged Orthodox Jew assassinated Yitzhak Rabin at a pro-peace demonstration in Tel Aviv. The morning after, I called Tarek at his new office in Dubai. After a few rings he picked up the phone.
“Hi, Louis. Too bad I did not bet anything with you last time we discussed about future events…”
“I will give you a reward anyway. One free week stay at ‘Le Jardin’ for you and your family, for the Christmas season. I have to talk to you about a few things over dinner.”
Chapter 7
Our second recruit, Valerio Orsini, was born in Rome in 1952, as the heir of a declining yet very respectable family of the Roman aristocracy. In the tense social climate of the seventies, his beliefs started sliding to the far right and he began attending the rallies of neofascist organizations.
His mother realized the danger he was exposed to, and shortly after he got a degree in Political Science, she managed to find him a job at the Vatican press office. Then in 1977 he met Anna, who became his long-term girlfriend. His brilliant intelligence and manners quickly earned him many connections both inside and outside the Vatican, to the extent that in 1980 he was approached by the Italian Secret Service. They were looking for insider knowledge on where the newly elected, Pope John Paul II, intended to lead the Church in the struggle against Communism.
He politely declined and he was thinking about reporting the story to the Secretary of State, when he received a call by a man who called himself Alberto, asking to see him in person. They met at the Pincio gardens, in the center of Rome, and on the balcony overlooking Piazza del Popolo, Alberto showed him a set of photos that revealed to him that Anna was not only his girlfriend but also the mistress of the all powerful Cardinal
D.
“I know how you feel,” Alberto said in a whisper. “Your world is falling apart. We do not want to blackmail you. It is not your fault at all. And we won't tell Anna either. These pictures will build up the file on Cardinal D. in case we ever need some help from him in the future. But we want to give you a chance.
Either you continue with your fiction, pretending things are the way they were or you embrace reality and start playing the predator instead of the prey. You have to decide for yourself.”
Over the following years, the network of Valerio kept growing and he never asked for money in exchange for the information he was giving. He only asked for more connections and introductions. In 1983 he broke up with Anna and by 1986 he also left the Vatican, setting up his own public relation and consultancy agency, which quickly grew in the booming Italian economy of the eighties.
He arrived at the clinic for the first time in 1986 and took part in his first dinner in the spring of 1988.
He grabbed my attention by predicting that the Berlin Wall would fall in one year.
“You mean, it is not going to last another ten years?”
“I mean what I said, Louis. One year from now, give or take three months. This is the consensus in my community, and they rarely guess wrong.”
“Your community…would that consist of journalists and those involved in the media?”
“They are also part of the community, but are not the most significant ones. At my agency you listen to all kind of stories; many of them fake, many of them true. Some are secrets that cannot get around, others get out precisely to make them known in the most appropriate way. The US and the Soviet Union have signed the peace treaty. Obviously, the US has won, so the Berlin Wall will fall.”
“But nothing hints to that happening any time soon! The Soviet Union has an army stationed in East Germany. Will they just sit and watch?”
“The Soviets have been bankrupt since 1985, after the Saudis eagerly complied with the US request to set the price of the barrel of oil at ten dollars. Of course, it was not an act of charity! They got huge market share in exchange. And this also pleased China that has to fuel its massive industrialization, even if people here won't realize this for the next ten years.
You do not need to be a genius or a spy to know that, yet people get convinced by the muscular, cowboy side of the story. That's why Reagan had to rearm and launch the Star Wars bullshit that will fill some deep pockets in the military industry.
Anyway, the Wall comes down next year, believe me. And it will be peaceful.”
“Peaceful? I told you, there is the Red Army in East Berlin!”
“It has to be. Otherwise Soviets would not be allowed to disengage quickly and they cannot afford to be pulled in any type of confrontation just to save the ass of some local red dictator. These guys will be given few choices; either surrender to the new era in their countries, or get a one-way ticket to Moscow if they feel they are not safe in the New World. Any other option they might think of, would be too risk.”
“So all what we read in the news in a deliberate lie? You are telling me that conspiracy theorists are right, the men in black are secretly running the world?”
“Not at all. Most of my colleagues write and report in absolute good faith. The point is, it matters what side of reality you show and what information you let out. And as far as conspiracies are concerned, there are lots of them, everywhere; creating all sorts of dissimulations. The only thing that is missing is the great mastermind behind it all. And there is no one. In my position, I would know.
All I see is a giant game of conspiracy and counter conspiracy, with varying degrees of success, but where no one ultimately controls the outcomes and where you have to be quick to take action if the opportunity arises.”
“But somehow we do not want to face this and then we invent things like the Great Architect....when in reality no one is in control.”
“Exactly. We have our eyes fixed on Gorbatchev, Bush, and Kohl but who knows, maybe the one who will make history in the next twenty years is hiding in a cave in Afghanistan, and the founder of the next big religion that will replace Christianity and Islam has just passed away in a remote Indian village. Then our descendants will realize this in two hundred years, assuming we do not commit suicide before then.”
“Valerio,” Dora jumped in, “I sense a type of regret, or more like disenchantment in your words.”
“Well, you know, I learn lots of things every day that would give the average person a feeling of unlimited access to the mysteries of history. In fact, even hundreds of years after the occurrence of events, historians keep coming back in search of answers.
So over the years my desire has become less passionate. I would be happy just to bump into one story that could become the story of the next few hundred years or even the next few decades. You know, in the Northeast of Italy, some rivers flow underground and randomly surface a few kilometers before they reach the sea.
I am looking for a story that is like an underground river that becomes the new sea where everybody wants to sail. I am afraid, though, that this is just wishful thinking.”
“And if you found it, what would you do? Just dig and make it headline news?”
“If the river is deep underground, chances are that the public would not believe it. And exposing it to light too early could even harm it. It would be a once in a lifetime opportunity, where mankind can marvel in how history unfolds. You should look at this story with an open eye, and not biased views.”
In the spring of 1996, I called Valerio in his Rome office. He was in the middle of the buzz of commentaries on the Italian general election that had been won by the center left party, which gave power to the former Communist party for the first time.
“Hi Valerio, I think I have found a story that beats your underground river.”
I had barely finished my sentence when I could already hear Valerio shout to his secretary to find him a place on the first flight to Geneva.
Chapter 8
George McKilroy was the name of our third recruit. He was born in Chicago, in 1955, as the first born of a single mother who managed to send him to college by working long hours. George was very good at math and after getting his bachelors at Northwestern University, he won a scholarship at Caltech in Los Angeles, California.
He fell in love with the Silicon Valley lifestyle and after his master in game theory in 1977, he started looking for the most promising startups. He joined Apple as their twenty-first employee, and left three years later in 1980, after the new Apple shares had made him rich.
With this initial capital, he joined Sausalito Ventures, a small firm which he helped develop into a two-hundred million dollar one, which was later sold to Kleiner Perkins Caufield & Byers, one of the Valley titans.
By the age of thirty-five, George was already known in Silicon Valley, with his enemies putting him down as a very lucky lone rider and his friends praising him as the business god.
He arrived at the clinic for the first time in the winter of 1985, driving a BMW that caught the attention of everybody. Not so much for its size, but for the obnoxious phone that was installed on his dashboard.
George eagerly showed off the phone, and soon all the guests were curious. Some people said he was one of the many diplomats working in the surroundings of Geneva, while others associated him with finance, very few guessed technology.
For me, moving around with a phone in the car was not enough to guarantee admittance to the terrace, but when he popped up again the year after with the same BMW but a different, smaller, and more futuristic phone, I gave in to my own curiosity and invited him to the next dinner.
To my great surprise, I discovered that he had come back with the very specific goal of getting invited to my special event.
“Dr. Picard,” he said, “last year I did my research and learned about your terrace admission rules. I thought, wow, this guy must be a great man of networking, worth getting to know better. S
o I came back and if you would not have invited me this time, I would not have returned next year.”
“You can call me Louis,” I smiled. “It is a privilege I give only to people who demonstrate self-confidence, and you definitely belong there.”
“You need to be like that, when your job is all about selling innovations.”
“Like being able to place and receive calls from anywhere? I noticed the phone is much smaller than it used to be last year. Maybe in a few years time, you can put it in your pocket.”
“As a matter of fact, one of the companies I am investing in right now with my venture capital fund, is developing some vital parts of the software and hardware needed to make mobile phones work. You will never see us in the shops with our brand, but I can assure you that all phone companies are depending on us big time. Are you also active in the technology startup sector? You grasped the concept with remarkable speed. Something I do not see often, not even in California.”
“Well, you know. We are also active in technology, but it is more along the lines of biotechnology. We hand make products for our own use, and we do not plan to sell or license any of our findings. At least, not in the near future.”
“I see. And who are your competitors, if I may ask?”
“I do not believe we have real competitors, honestly. Our cosmetic research is very much tailored to each of our customers’ requirements. Of course, we compete with many other beauty farms here in the area, but we do not try to copy each other’s products. We try to offer our own unique atmosphere. Imitation can be dangerous.”
“That’s interesting, because in the technology market, and especially during startup, there are some golden rules. The first one is obvious, you need a creative idea and a good team able to carry it out. The second one is less obvious, you have to make sure someone else is following in your tracks or at least trying to create something similar.”
The Last Enemy - A history of the present future - 1934-2084 Page 4