Israel's infamous cyber intelligence and surveillance company NSO Group has dominated headlines recently for selling its spyware, Pegasus, with the Israeli government’s approval to mostly authoritarian regimes around the world. They used it to spy on their citizens, activists, journalists, and even world leaders, with French president Emanuel Macron targeted by the software.
This week, the Pegasus controversy played out on its home turf. Israeli police reportedly used the spyware without court authorisation to surveil the phones of dozens of Israelis, among them Netanyahu’s son and aides and witnesses in Netanyahu’s corruption case.
The scandal comes after another report two weeks earlier that revealed that the police has been using Pegasus since 2013 to track anti-Netanyahu protesters, mayors, and non-suspects, exploiting a legal loophole.
The news came as a surprise to many Israelis who had been typically apathetic to warnings by local and international media outlets about the intrusive nature of such technology. Before this, NSO’s trail of scandals did not seem to matter, and neither did the human rights violations that Israel’s cybersecurity industry has been facilitating. It was all someone else's problem.
Israeli newspaper Haaretz, a partner in the Pegasus Project, a consortium of media outlets that exposed NSO’s controversial deals last year, has been covering stories on the illegal dealings of Israel’s cybersecurity tech firms globally for years.
As early as 2012, Israeli investigative journalists were the first to expose NSO’s early sales to Mexico, warning that NSO’s technology may be used against journalists.
When Israelis did pay attention, it was because NSO made international headlines and put Israel in the crosshairs of international criticism, like when Canadian research institute Citizen Lab exposed NSO’s controversial deals with human rights violating clients in 2018. But the buzz only lasted for only a few days.
In Israel, the relationship between the public and cybersecurity technology is utilitarian, with the technology providing crucial intelligence deemed integral to the survival of the Jewish state. As such, its existence and use are considered moral.
The “leapfrogging” witnessed in Israel’s economic growth in the past two or so decades is majorly credited to the tech industry. The industry was key in boosting per capita wealth, closing the gap with rich first-world countries. Today, Israel is a cybersecurity powerhouse, accounting for 10% of the world’s cybersecurity export and averaging $10 billion.
Cybersecurity has grown into a prestigious industry defining the country’s capitalistic trend. As opposed to the early years of the state when covetousness for money was hidden under the layers of state-building and ideology, today’s Israel is increasingly profit-oriented and not willing - or cannot afford - to rethink the negative global impact of its tech firms.
Despite temporary criticism, Israel has reaped significant diplomatic profits through cybersecurity technology. It is no longer a secret that Pegasus played a key role in fostering Israel’s relations with some Arab states. The technology was arguably a deciding factor in the run-ups to the 2020 Abraham Accords.
But there is a particular mindset behind Israel’s cyber industry that sets it apart from other capitalistic societies: the country’s unique perception and obsession with security.
Though the trend is changing, Israel has historically been alienated in the region, pushing it into the old pattern of what is commonly known in political psychology as “siege mentality.” Walls, fences, barbed wire, trenches, and heavy militarisation of the country’s fault lines have been the norm, and fear the mindset.
This mindset does not only feed on perceptions of Palestinians and Arabs as antagonistic toward Israel, but also - perhaps more emphatically - on the broader context of Jewish history. Based a long history of anti-Semitism, many Israelis see the world as hostile to the Jewish community. Self-preservation, therefore, is perceived as only achieved through hyper-vigilant and aggressive security measures.
The preoccupation with security has been established as a way of life and worldview. It is, in fact, so salient that it made Israel a special class of democracy where even the judicial system is tied up to the country’s overall perception of security. The Israeli Supreme Court, for instance, almost made it a rule not to interfere with the military government when its actions were based on “security concerns.”
Even the otherwise pluralistic and free Israeli press and publishing industry are subject to censorship when security is of concern. In 2017, the Israeli military censor banned 271 news articles and redacted 2,087 others. Out of 83 books submitted that year to the censor, 53 were partially redacted or edited.
Traditionally, Israel’s culture of fear had been externalised as excessive militarism, pre-emptive warfare, and state terrorism - a mentality occasionally referred to as “the hyper-vigilance of the hunted.”
Today, cybersecurity is the modern, literally virtual, reflection of that - an extension and another manifestation of Israel’s collective psychology.
As such, a co-dependent relationship has emerged between Israel’s cybersecurity tech and the notion of national survival, making questioning the amoral practises of the tech firms akin to undermining the country’s collective safety.
Based on this rationale, it becomes irrelevant whether Pegasus facilitates human rights violations in other countries because national survival is at stake.
Dr Emad Moussa is a researcher and writer who specialises in the politics and political psychology of Palestine/Israel.
Follow him on Twitter: @emadmoussa
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