The messiah is betrayed

A monsoon of literature will eventually be written about the WikiLeaks story. Here are two of the first droplets. David Leigh and Luke Harding have delivered an enjoyable account of the Guardian’s fraught dealings with Julian Assange and the publication of the secret US cables. The WikiLeaks founder comes across as a shadowy, manipulative character with the habits of a tramp and the brain of a chess grandmaster. When it suited him he displayed an absurdly possessive attitude towards documents he couldn’t possibly claim legal title to.

The story is blown dramatically off course by the assault charges filed against Assange by two Swedish women last year. In Leigh and Harding’s account the allegations amount to very little. One of his accusers didn’t realise she’d been the victim of a crime until she discussed it with a friend. His offence in Swedish law (oddly translated as ‘minor rape’) carries a maximum sentence of one year, which is automatically reduced to four months in exchange for quiescent behaviour. What Assange fears is removal to the USA and an espionage trial, but given that public figures like Sarah Palin have virtually called for his assassination — ‘Why was he not pursued with the same urgency we pursued al-Qa’eda?’ she asked — an extradition would violate his human rights.

If he needs a character witness he won’t be telephoning Daniel Domscheit-Berg whose book, Inside Wikileaks, is an entertaining exposé of Assange’s career from the perspective of an early supporter. At one time the entire project consisted of Assange and Domscheit-Berg beavering away on a couple of laptops in a flat in Wiesbaden. They subtly encouraged the impression that ‘hundreds’ of associates supported them, but this was a creative reference to their Twitter fans and the geeks who logged onto their chat-room.