We often frame surveillance as a debate about privacy versus security. But the year 2020 provided a stark, clarifying lens. It revealed that the global surveillance apparatus, long operating in the shadows, functions not as a shield for the public, but as a weapon of institutional control. The events of that year pulled back the curtain, exposing a system where trust is weaponised, norms are shattered, and violence is automated.

Weaponising Trust

The February 2020 exposé of Crypto AG stands as perhaps the most audacious intelligence operation in history. For seventy years, approximately 120 governments purchased encryption equipment from what they believed was a neutral Swiss company. In reality, they were unknowingly paying the CIA and West German intelligence to read their most secret communications.

The operation’s scope was breathtaking. Iranian diplomatic cables, Saudi internal communications, Italian government messages, and sensitive intelligence from across the globe flowed directly to American agencies. Nations spent billions on security systems specifically engineered to betray them.

This revelation illuminated a fundamental truth of modern surveillance: trust itself is a vulnerability. The operation succeeded not through technological superiority, but through the systematic exploitation of Switzerland’s reputation for neutrality. It demonstrated that the very foundation of secure international relations could be a meticulously crafted lie.

From Diplomacy to Bounty Hunting

In March 2020, the United States government placed a $15 million bounty on the head of Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro. This marked the first time in modern history one nation had offered a reward for the capture of another’s sitting head of state.

The stated justification—drug trafficking—collapsed under scrutiny. US Drug Enforcement Agency data showed Venezuela accounted for less than 7% of South American drug trafficking, with the majority originating in Colombia, a close American ally.

The bounty represented a dangerous formalisation of a long-standing policy: governments that refuse to subordinate their interests to American power would face overt destabilisation. It signalled a move away from diplomatic pressure and toward public, financial incentivisation of regime change, regardless of international law.

The Automated Assassin

The November 2020 assassination of Iranian nuclear physicist Mohsen Fakhrizadeh demonstrated the terrifying evolution of surveillance technology beyond monitoring and into autonomous killing. A satellite-controlled, vehicle-mounted machine gun executed Fakhrizadeh before self-destructing, a act of warfare that was completely remote, deniable, and required no human operators in the target zone.

While no nation officially claimed responsibility, the technological sophistication pointed to a state actor allied with American intelligence. This event showcased a new paradigm: the complete removal of human risk and accountability from state-sponsored assassination. The line between surveillance and remote killing had not just been blurred; it had been erased.

The Human Cost

Former drone operator Brandon Bryant’s testimony provided a crucial, ground-level view of the psychological infrastructure required for remote warfare. Operating from a facility near Las Vegas, Bryant was responsible for strikes that killed thirteen people, while his squadron targeted over 1,600.

His account of being ordered to fire on what superiors identified as a “dog”—later revealed to be a child—illustrated how surveillance technology creates a psychological distance that enables the routine killing of civilians. Warfare, abstracted through a video screen, had been transformed into a form of administrative work.

His eventual breakdown demonstrated the human cost of systems designed to eliminate moral friction from killing. Even with extensive conditioning, operators frequently suffered severe mental health consequences, revealing that the trauma of war persists, even when it’s conducted from thousands of miles away.

Crossing the Rubicon

The January 2020 drone assassination of Iranian General Qassem Soleimani represented a serious escalation. The strike, which also killed Iraqi officials, was conducted without a congressional authorisation or declaration of war.

To grasp its significance, imagine Iran assassinating the US Secretary of Defence at an international airport. The act triggered national mourning in Iran and a vote in the Iraqi parliament to expel American forces.

Yet, much of American media coverage treated the assassination as a routine foreign policy decision. This illustrated how powerful surveillance and military capabilities had normalised previously unthinkable violations of international law, recasting an act of state terrorism as a legitimate strategic manoeuvre.

The Permanent War Machine

By 2020, the United States was conducting military operations in at least fourteen countries while maintaining troops in approximately 80 nations worldwide. Despite not having declared war since 1942, American forces were engaged in continuous combat across multiple continents.

The infrastructure supporting these operations relies entirely on extensive surveillance networks to identify targets, monitor populations, and coordinate with allies. The surveillance apparatus and the warfare apparatus are now inseparable; both serve the same strategic objective: maintaining hegemony through a permanent state of controlled violence.

The Revelatory Function of 2020

The year 2020 served as a crystallising moment. The convergence of these revelations—from the weaponisation of trust to the normalisation of remote assassination—provided an unprecedented look at the true nature of global power.

These events were not isolated anomalies. They shared a common DNA: they relied on technological superiority, exploited legal grey areas, and prioritised American strategic interests over human rights or international law.

Hindsight, in this case, is indeed 20/20. The year demonstrated conclusively that surveillance and violence are not separate policy tools but integrated components of a single, integrated system. Its ultimate purpose is not public safety, but the maintenance of a global order through information control and the targeted elimination of any resistance. The danger on a global scale is a system that operates in plain sight, yet remains accountable to no one.