Começa no episódio dos espiões de Moisés, citado na Bíblia, e acaba na véspera da Primeira Guerra Mundial. Oferece um relato fascinante de espiões, segredos e operações de espionagem através dos séculos e traça a sua evolução no mundo antigo, desde a arte da adivinhação até à efetiva recolha de informações na condução de operações militares.
Regista o subsequente desenvolvimento dos serviços secretos na condução da política dos Estados em períodos tão diversos como a Veneza renascentista, a Inglaterra de Isabel I, a França do Ancien Régime, a América revolucionária e a Rússia czarista.

Christopher Andrew’s history of the intelligence world is a huge achievement. In fact, I feel that even to have read his book is quite a feat of endurance, as it weighs in at 941 pages of very small type, densely packed with a wealth of insight into the history of the methodology and application of intelligence work. It was certainly fascinating, although at times I found the depth of detail became slightly overwhelming, and every couple of chapters or so, I broke off to read something lighter instead.

Living in the twenty-first century we are familiar with the proliferation of separate bodies charged either with intelligence gathering or with undertaking the prevention of such work by similar agencies from different countries. It is, however, only relatively recently that the British Government openly acknowledged the existence of MI5 and MI6. The work of these organisations, traditionally shrouded in mystery, has become a staple in contemporary fiction, whether through the glamorous, if fatuous, adventures of James Bond or the shady (and often shabby) netherworld populated by the character of John le Carré.

The world of intelligence and counter-intelligence has always fascinated me. Among the most intriguing aspects are the extent to which the various campaigns and operations have been documented, and the extent to which such records have been made available. The United Kingdom tends only to release official documentation at a remove of thirty years or so (and often much longer depending upon the sensitivity of the papers in question). Andrew has studied these archives, not just in Britain and America (whose Freedom of Information legislation has always allowed for rather greater, and earlier, access to these documentary treasure troves), but also those that have come to light in Russia and Eastern Europe following the dismantling of the Warsaw Pact. His analysis of the records now laid bare is incisive, and helps the reader draw wholly new perspectives on the East-West struggles of the Cold War.

Yet the intelligence and counter-intelligence campaigns of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries take up very little of the book. The opening chapters take us back to ancient Egypt, and the plight of the wandering Israelites, whom the Old Testament describes as sending spies into the land of Canaan, while others detail the intricate intelligence systems devised by rulers in India and China two thousand years ago.

The value of robust intelligence might now seem beyond question, but there have been significant fluctuations in the value placed upon it by governing regimes. In England, the intelligence community perhaps reached an apotheosis during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, when networks managed by Lord Willoughby, and then Robert Cecil, helped foil conspiracies supporting the claims of Mary, Queen of Scots, (culminating in her execution in 1587), and to withstand the threat of invasion from Spain: Francis Drake’s attack on Cadiz, when he ‘singed the King of Spain’s beard’ by destroying much of his naval force, was no chance attack but an intelligence-led operation. Less than twenty years later, however, government spies had no idea of the Gunpowder Plot hatched against Elizabeth’s successor (and son of Mary, Queen of Scots), James (I and VI). That Plot was foiled solely as a consequence of an injudicious communication from one of the plotters, warning his brother-in-law to stay away from Parliament on the day of the State Opening. Even in the run up to the First World War, Britain’s intelligence networks were less extensive and effective than their counterparts from a century earlier, during the Napoleonic Wars.

Christopher Andrew documents all this with great clarity, aided by some sardonic footnotes. It is a comprehensive, yet comprehensible, work, and deserves a far wider readership than I fear it will receive. ( )