Monday, Apr. 14, 1986
High-Technology Threats
Noel Koch, a Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense, recently left his Pentagon office toting an overnight bag and rode to Washington's National Airport. Koch breezed through three airport metal detectors and into the departure lounge. That was as far as he planned to go. Inside his carry-on bag, Koch had concealed a 9-mm handgun that weighs only 23 oz. and is made partly of superhardened plastic. When disassembled, the Austrian-made weapon, known as the Glock 17, does not look like a firearm. Only its barrel, slide and springs, which are metal, show up on airport scanners. The polymer handgrip, trigger guard and ammunition clip that complete its profile as a gun do not set off the security devices.
High-technology weapons have created a terrifying dilemma for airport officials in their war against terrorists. Already, new guns made entirely of plastic are being developed. Easily concealable handguns like the Glock, along with hard-to-detect components for putty-like explosives that are also readily available, give air pirates an edge that officials are finding increasingly difficult to counter. The Federal Aviation Administration, which oversees domestic airport security, insists that the Glock 17, which is legally sold in the U.S., can be detected on existing airport X-ray machines. The gun's manufacturer attributes Koch's success in "smuggling" it to human error, not a system deficiency. Firearms are only one of the tools of terrorism that have become more sophisticated. Security devices at airports are intended to spot weapons that could be used by hijackers. But Brian Jenkins, a terrorism expert with the Rand Corp., a think tank in Santa Monica, Calif., warns that the machines cannot identify bombs like the one planted aboard the TWA plane last week. Says he: "Explosives are made out of organic material. They won't set off a metal detector, nor do they have any distinguishing silhouette. It's a blob and can be of any shape." A bomb detonator can be as slim as a pencil, and a timer no more conspicuous than a travel alarm. Plastic explosives can be concocted from a wide variety of chemical formulas and take many forms, ranging from string on a package to sheets of paper. For all the refinements in new bombs, he believes, there is still a tried-and-true defense. Says Jenkins: "The best explosive-detection system has four legs and a cold nose."
Israel's state airline, El Al, which sets the world standard for security, relies mainly on people, rather than machines, to spot danger. El Al's thoroughness sometimes infuriates passengers, who must endure a check-in ritual that includes hand searches of carry-on luggage, minute scrutiny of passports and rigorous quizzing of passengers about the contents of their luggage. Result: El Al can boast that none of its planes has been hijacked since 1968.
But such counterterror tactics conflict sharply with what one Italian airport official calls the "commercial philosophy" of Western airlines. Says an Interior Ministry official in Rome: "A commercial airport is asked to give tourists a pleasant, welcoming image. Is this consonant with stripping passengers, body checks and shaking out their clothes?" Such inconveniences on the ground may be the price that travelers pay for peace of mind in the air.
Some countries have responded to the recent spate of terrorist hijackings by deploying heavily armed guards and armored vehicles at airports. Although reluctant to discuss what other safety measures have been taken to meet new threats, airline officials insist that both detection technology and security personnel are under constant review. Explains Pan Am Spokesman James Arey: "The terrorists out there use every nugget of information to help develop their master plan." Some insiders, however, are skeptical. An Alitalia pilot believes that terrorist attacks galvanize airport security police into only temporary vigilance. "That lasts about a week," he complains. Too often, the normal lax checking procedures creep back in soon afterward.