© Pa Wire/EPASpooks under the mildest of scrutiny … from left to right: Andrew Parker, head of MI5; Sir John Sawers, head of MI6; and Sir Iain Lobban, head of GCHQ.
Another historic milestone in the battle for parliamentary oversight was passed when Britain's spy chiefs summoned a committee of MPs and peers to justify their behaviour and reassure the public they are not a threat to national security.
To the average Ukip voter watching on almost-live TV, the nine members of the intelligence and security committee (ISC) must have looked a shifty bunch. The chairman, Sir Malcolm Rifkind, is a Scot, so he must be some kind of traitor. Labour's George Howarth sports a beard (communist?). Tory Mark Field was born in Germany (Hun?).
As for that Hazel Blears ("His and Hers" as Sir Malcolm called her in his rough Edinburgh accent), she rides a motorbike. Yes, there is plenty there for the spook community to get their digital teeth into.
Obviously it would have been more appropriate if the committee had been kitted out in orange jump suits and taken to M16 HQ at Vauxhall Cross or to GCHQ in Cheltenham for their interrogation. But constitutional niceties must be respected, so the three intelligence chiefs came to Westminster's Boothroyd Room and pretended to be grilled by the ISC. Even then they insisted on a two-minute TV pause button in case anyone blurted out a SECRET.
Fat chance. A slice of the session was devoted to the sensitive question of whether or not any of Britain's "security partners" - a more comforting label than "Pakistani intelligence" - ever mistreat or even torture suspects arrested on MI6's say-so. Not these days, the squeamish politicians were assured, although hints were dropped that things weren't perfect after 9/11.
It can be more confidently stated that no one was mistreated or tortured during Thursday's chat, which made Sir David Frost's gentle sofa technique look like the Gestapo's Klaus Barbie. "Sir John, do you want to say anything?" Sir Malcolm asked Sir John Sawers of M16. "Just to add my support to what Sir Iain [Lobban of GCHQ] and Andrew [M15's Parker] have said." It was like listening to old BBC output: "Is there anything you'd like to tell us, Mr Attlee?" "No."
Sawers, Lobban and Parker were what TV crews called "doughnutted" by a wholesome cross-section of citizens who looked as if they were up from Cheltenham for the day. Like ordinary members of the public (the cunning of it) all wore poppies believed to be able to fire 1,700 rounds a minute if anyone blurted out a SECRET or even hurled a pie, as happened to Rupert Murdoch.
No one did either as the spooks made their daylight debut, a trio of Draculas in the winter sun. Sir Malcolm may have dreamed of appearing with a long-haired white cat in his lap ("this committee has ways of making you talk, Mr Parker. My associate, Sir Ming Campbell, is not as sweet as he looks"), but thought better of it, though he did prod them a bit. So did Ming and Biker Blears. No, no, no, the chiefs replied to every prod.
In this very British tea and crumpets atmosphere opacity was all. The whistleblower Edward Snowden was not mentioned until 3.09 (long after James Bond's namecheck), the Guardian not at all, though Sawers put the boot in over media leaks ("al-Qaida are lapping it up" he said) and Lobban, the one you might not want to meet after dark, got quietly angry about it. Parker was more sorrowful, perhaps because his knighthood has been lost in the post.
Watching voters must have noticed that the trio slid over past intelligence gaffes, their failure to predict 9/11 or the Arab spring. "Why did you fail to notice the second world war until 1943, Sir John?" "We are not crystal ball gazers."
They also felt sorry for themselves. Digital technology has made their carpeted lives and £2bn budget so much harder than it has for bearded Islamist boys in their stinking caves. Politicians make the rules, we just obey them, they said.
OK, if you say so, though it sounded like buck-passing. But Sir Malcolm won't tell: it's a SECRET.
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