The Wikileaks release of US documents has unexpectedly evolved into a showdown between Founder Julian Assange and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. Were this a stage production of Assange's youth, the marquee for this drama might read "The Elusive Digital Anarchist vs. The Godmother of 21st Century Statecraft."
There is no stage, Broadway or continental, for this historic confrontation; rather, it is unfolding across the sprawling cross-national architecture of servers, fiberoptic cables, radiowaves, and consumer screens of the 21st Century Internet.
Property is not at the root of this conflict -- the documents released are very clearly the property of the US Government, and they are now arguably the property of the public domain. Nor is this fight over territory, a concept which defies traditional definitions in cyberspace, Nor, surprisingly, is this conflict about law. Nothing in international law nor in US law has been specifically designed to regulate Assange's decision to release these classified documents online.
It could be said the conflict is around conflicting values in cyberspace, and to some extent this has been true. Assange believes that his publication of US property in cyberspace is justified by the principle of "sunshine is the best disinfectant." Mass publication can counter injustice and human rights violations by the US in the real world, and therefore is an act that implicitly reflects the ideals of international human rights. Secretary Clinton has countered this claim by appealing to diplomatic classification and to the injustice of endangering the lives of thousands of countless individuals.
But there is a funny twist here: both Assange and Clinton are aware that cyberspace is creating a networked world, one where the state may matter less and less. Both are also aware that cyberspace can be used to protect and enforce the values of international human rights in the real world. Assange's use of cyberspace to fight what he determines to be oppressive governments ironically reflects the thinking laid out in Secretary Clinton's Five Freedoms of the Internet speech earlier this year. In particular, it could be argued that Secretary Clinton's arguments for the Freedom of Speech in cyberspace justify the actions that Assange has taken. Without a legal code established to specifically regulate this new space, two different approaches to the same principle seem equally justifiable.
For this reason, their conflict instead lies in their two contrasting approaches: Assange's acts of mass publication, consequences be damned, contrast with the incrementalism of Clinton's Five Freedoms of the Internet speech. Assange believes he can accelerate the arrival of a new world order via continuous and massive data releases. His approach, non-violent in form but potentially deadly in its consequences, is the logical heir to the Unabomber. He foresees a new order, and displays concern for the current order, yet he doesn't know how to communicate it to the masses without an act of violence.
By contrast, Secretary Clinton proceeds with a cautious, though evangelical, approach to the digital realities of 21st Century Diplomacy. Her approach is based on Anne-Marie Slaughter's vision of a networked world, and adjustments she has made from the developments (Twitter in Iran, YouTube Diplomacy) since her team began engaging in the space.
For those betting on this fight, the odds favor Secretary Clinton. Assange's heavy-handed fighting style may have earned him wins at the early stages, but Secretary Clinton has two things in her favor: traditional state diplomacy is still the foundation for international order for the foreseeable future, and, as the memos released by Assange reflected, she has in her corner a healthy mix of idealists and pragmatists amongst her team of diplomats. In other words, Secretary Clinton has a wealth of solutions to win this fight, and Assange merely has one: the hope for chaos.
Last, it is also interesting to note that Clinton and Assange share another point in common: both proceed from the wrong assumption about how the American people will participate in this new global architecture. Assange believes that the documents will spur Americans to act against their government, and Clinton believes that Americans will be active participants in 21st Century Statecraft. They both have forgotten that Americans are not fundamentally incentivized by the Constitution to participate in their foreign policy. A review of the behavior of diplomats is something that Americans elect their Representatives to do. In this light, Wikileaks could be seen as an additional tool for American people to understand what their diplomats do, but Assange has made it clear this was not his intent, and it is unlikely the American people will find these documents to be anything more than gossip.
Neither party, much less anyone, can lay claim to the future of diplomacy in cyberspace without first understanding the incentives of citizens to engage in their respective country's foreign policy in cyberspace. Until such incentives exist, it is difficult to foresee the participation of anyone other than aspiring visionaries and the curious.