Betrayal
In the book, The Billion Dollar Spy, by David E. Hoffman, I was introduced to Adolf Tolkachev, the Soviet Union spy who until this day, I would think is best credited for why his country lost an opportunity to militarily get ahead of the United States of America. A strong assertion, but matter of fact speaking upon coming to discover the works this one man completed prior to his captivity.
While I come from just one book, I feel I learned enough to understand the underlying motive this one man had as to why he would consciously decide to betray his own country.
Betray. A harsh word, but a spy to serve for a country other than their own native land is truly just that, premeditated. It is ultimately a choice that has been pondered upon, knowing the risks this alone would entail not only for oneself, but family members automatically involved upon such decision.
It can then be well noted as to the depths of mental state one has to be in to decide conscious betrayal. One must know and accept that death is upon them if found. Additionally, family members, most often not knowing one’s involvement could possibly face an awaiting demise in the near-future if there were to be any crossfire. Taking not only yourself down, but your loved ones is thus, a risk beyond sensibility- it’s a personal vendetta with ultimately a selfish clause. Betrayal is a risk of taking every one down with you.
This reflection is not about whether or not Tolkachev truly earned the merit of having been said, together with his eventual compensation and the cost he saved the U.S. with the information he provided, accumulated to be an estimation worth around a billion dollars. We need to just come to terms that whatever information he gave to not only provide the U.S. the advantage, but also redirect of their own plans, was and I’m sure to this day, priceless. Hence, this reflection is not debating the worth of information. The focus here is on the act of conscious betrayal.
Betrayal is in more or less words, the act of treachery where one reveals information, most of the time, secrets, to an opposing party. Whether the betrayer understands their act subconsciously or not, an act of betrayal gives power and advantage to opposition. Such acts is beyond what damage information leaked could do. The act of betrayal crucifies souls-any trust given not just broken, but shattered.
There are circumstances where betrayal can be done by mistake or unintentional, clearly committed under a moment of quick decision. That fight, flight, or freeze nanosecond moment. In reflecting on my own actions, I must relate to a time where my sister would most definitely suggest I had betrayed her.
My Papa must have known something was in the air. He had privately approached me, quite giving me an order that I tell him if and when my sister were to be up to no good. The look in his eyes, the tone in his voice- a rather pleading command.
Walking into our shared room to see the half of my sister’s body dangling from a window soon after gave me an immediate act to run and tell my Papa. He quickly ran in and apprehended her.
It turned out she was trying to sneak out. My decision to tell my Papa a betrayal of sisterhood? Perhaps. Reporting quickly to my Papa, only thinking to save my sister from jumping out of a two-story building? Unpremeditated. There was no sense of elation felt upon running to my Papa. To this day I have not ever once snuck out of a home. It wasn’t and still isn’t my way of thinking. Hence, 1. sister 2. two-story 3. jumping relinquished me of any other option than to run and tell my Papa. There was no pot of gold I was trying to reach at the end of a rainbow. In my mind, I needed to save my sister.
Did my sister express hate and bitterness toward me thereafter? As if she hadn’t already been expressing agony for my mere existence, no doubt. Waking up to the smell of nail polish and giggles one evening was a vivid memory of her disapproval toward my actions. It wasn’t the writings on my legs and arms that bothered me most. The words written she’d already spoken out loud many times.
Both she and her friend managed to write on my face as well. It was then when I managed to awake. I have always had this need to put extra care for my skin. Using bright, red nail polish in my arms and legs were purely cruel, but on my face? Barbaric.
Beyond my screams and my own choice of angry words, I did nothing. How could I? She was my older sister and she will never understand my vantage point to care for her well-being. Influenced by such a friend she had should shed light as to how she was easily swayed to choose others over me. Surely, she saw me as the weight to her problems. In my sister’s eyes, she had been convinced my actions were in the wrong. I had to be punished.
If I may strangely analogize, as I tend to do, my sister is like that of how I perceived Tolkachev to have seen his country ruled under a certain government. My beautiful sister could not see the influences around her was unhealthy, going into a direction that would only deteriorate the very purity that she withheld.
Tolkachev was compelled to put a stop to the pathway of his country’s government in the way I perhaps had tried for as long as I could remember to redirect my sister.
Ultimately, I faced a bitter acceptance. When one sees nothing wrong with their ways, their direction, their pathway, any opposition is the enemy or hindrance. Rather than finding a new friend, making better choices, or simply doing the right under the watchful eyes of her younger sister, there was only anxiety to be built up in seeing and witnessing instead, quite the contrary. My beautiful sister changing toward the wrong before me and she would not hear of my suggestions to veer otherwise.
Tolkachev must have seen his country in the same manner. His beautiful country heading in a direction, to his perception, the wrong direction.
Adolf Tolkachev, a high level Soviet electric engineer, made the conscious choice to betray his own country even knowing the consequences for such treason. He admitted not only seeking several times to find US counterparts to approach, but once given serious attention to, started to provide secret information which revealed arsenal strength of their country’s military tactics, weakening them as a result.
Although he and his family were provided the most significant living quarters, consisting of the elite engineers and other intelligent minds all residing in one building tower, Tolkachev made the decision to not only spy against his own country, but divulge of countless, highly classified documents to opposition. Whether it was the weight of his childhood memories of his parents being wronged or what has also been noted as the reason, the persecution of his wife’s family, his determination to gather and then, release, as much secret information he could before he was discovered and stopped provided to the U.S. was deeply marked with his distaste for how his country was being governed.
Just cause? He asserted his actions to be so.
We must not sugar-coat the act of betrayal by trying to make it right. Wrong is wrong. I will have children all around me blaming us for the disclarity if I am to minutely suggest that betrayal is a good thing. Justified cause, rather, can very well be discussed for some form of understanding.
I have been told I always “try to find the good in someone”. Other times told that I am a robot, referencing the dissatisfaction I give others when I show indifference to some news that otherwise should have caused anyone else great rage or uproar. In both cases, I am merely referenced as so, drawing to the attention of my advocacy to whoever may be in the platform of discussion. I have always been drawn toward understanding people’s thought process, going beyond their actions and words. I realize that by understanding others, I have a better understanding of myself and the world around me. In trying to understand others, I grow. I know no perfection, just the every day effort to be deemed righteous when my calling arrives.
Adolf Tolkachev had turned down several attempts to leave his country. However, he couldn’t see he and his family leaving a country he had known to love. I understand the inability to leave something even when you see lack of improvement or change. There is this cling of hope that what your heart sees in it will eventually come to reality. Tolkachev held onto that for as long as he could.
That level of hope. I understand.
