this heart inside me and I conclude thatnit exists. I can touch this world and Inalso conclude that it exists. All mynknowledge ends at this point. The restnis hypothesis.” Here is his principalnlimitation: an inability or refusal to testnthe hypothesis. Everything is at stakenin that test because somewhere in thenhypothesis is the only solid foundationnfor meaning and values. Ultimately,nCamus unconsciously accepted a kindnof transcendence. His attempt to derivenvalues without it was a somewhat illicitnintellectual operation performed to expressna valid emotional experience. Hisnmethod was imprecise and inconsistent.nLev Braun in Witness of Decline perceptivelyndelineates the weakness whennhe says of Camus’s philosophy: “We arenfaced with two sets of values, not altogetherncompatible and resting on shakynfoundations: Christian ethics of brotherhood,nbut without God, and Greek ethicsnof measure and harmony but with nonUnmoved Mover and cosmic rationality.nHumanity strives for unity in both thenChristian and pagan sense of the world,nbut Camus’s humanism has neither rootsnnor teleology.”nThis lack has made his argumentsnmainly defensive in character, for theynare concerned with protecting certainnvalues against the extremes of nihilism.nHe emphasizes the will to be happy,nbut his definition of happiness is negative,namounting to little more thannsuccessfully defying the absurd. Happinessnshould be the possibility of reachingnsomething beyond the absurd—a usenand justification for our freedom. Itnwould seem necessary for happiness tonput us in touch with some supremenforce in order to be a positive and passionatenaffirmation. Camus’s defensivenposition allows for wounds to be dressednand crimes to be understood and forgiven,nbut it is an ethics free of dangernbecause it takes no risks. It is men whonhave taken risks (like having faith innthe transcendent) who have providednus with examples and revelations.nCamus seems to exchange risk for security,nresponsibility for peace.nv^amus finally recognized the dangersnof communism, but he made nonstrong, clear proposal for containing it.nHe pronounced the importance of freedom,njustice and tolerance, but he didnnot instruct us how they can be safeguardednand extended in the modernnindustrial social system. He made clearnthe value of human communion, butnhe provided no positive basis for bringingnthose committed to shallow livingnand mass entertainment to a point wherenthey can communicate first of all withnthemselves. DnDouble Destruction of the CIAnThomas Pov*rers: The Man WhonKept the Secrets: Richard Helms andnthe CIA; Alfred A. Knopf; NewnYork.nby Lev NavrozovnOome Muscovites are called “Pravdanpeople”: they know nothing-exceptnPravda and can think no thought unlessnPravda has expressed it. By thenLev Navrozov is a Russian scholar whonemigrated to the United States,n8nChronicles of Cultttrensame token, some New Yorkers may bencalled “New York Times people.”nThomas Powers (a New Yorker) mentionsnin his book the “tiger cages” innSouth Vietnam among the “crimes andnfailures of the CIA.” The magazinenCommentary has demonstrated that then”tiger cages” were a malicious fraud or,nat least, a publicity hoax of the massnmedia. But the New York Times hasnignored the Commentary article. Therefore,nPowers still believes in “tigerncages.”nIt is possible that Powers has nevernnnread the article in Commentary becausenthe latter’s circulation is dwarfed bynthe New York Times. Thus, in Moscownsome “Pravda people” do not knownwhat foreign radios say because the sheernvolume of Soviet media dominates theirnminds. Alternatively, Powers mightnhave read the Commentary article, butnhe has screened this knowledge out ofnhis consciousness as a priori wrong, ornunimportant, or inimical.nI do not propose to establish whethernMr. Powers is a passive victim of, ornan active believer in, the New YorknTimes. The result in both cases is thensame: his book is a New York Timesnitem, blown up into a 393-page volume.nAs such, it elaborates at book lengthntwo dogmas of the New York Timesnabout the CIA.n1 he CIA consists—or at least it didnprior to the “New York Times revelations”nof the mid-70’s—of two basicncomponents: covert operations, primarilynattempting to prevent the Sovietsnfrom seizing nontotalitarian countriesnby their covert operations (e.g., thenclandestine supply of money or weaponsnto a pro-Soviet group); and the gatheringnof intelligence data on totalitariannsocieties, above all the Soviet regime.nThe CIA’s covert operations can benrated from satisfactory to brilliant. Annexample of a brilliant operation was thenCIA’s aid to Guatemalan rebels in overthrowingnpro-Soviet communists inn1954, with hardly a single person killednor vyounded.nThe CIA’s gathering of intelligencendata on Russia cannot be rated, for itndoes not exist as yet: true, the Sovietnpropaganda pamphlets which the CIAnhas been feeding to the Congress fornthe past 20 years as intelligence datanhave duly impressed many members ofnboth houses, but they do not impressnanyone who has read these Soviet propagandanpamphlets in the original.nThe difference between these twoncomponents of the CIA’s activity isnunderstandable. In a country which hasnnot yet become pro-Soviet totalitarian.n