Why the Benghazi Consulate Attack Will Blind the U.S. The instinct to protect U.S. spies and diplomats will mean limiting their access to human intelligence throughout the restive Middle East Asmaa Waguih / Reuters A Libyan government militia guarding the main entrance of the U.S. consulate that was attacked last week, fixes a note written by Libyans against the attack, in Benghazi, Sept. The overrunning of the American consulate in Benghazi and the murder of the U.S. ambassador to Libya is a disaster for U.S. intelligence-gathering capabilities in the Middle East. The resultant siege mentality in Washington creates an imperative to pull our spies and diplomats back into fortresses ­ heavily defended U.S. sanctuaries from which it's almost impossible to collect good human intelligence. Ambassador Christopher Stevens lost his life on Sept. 11 while doing his job representing the President. But never forget that our ambassadors are also intelligence collectors. By wading in among the Libyans, from going to dinners at the homes of Libyan leaders to talking with ordinary people in the streets, he was gathering both important opinions and intelligence minutiae. It's that daily immersion in the dynamics of a society that has always made the U.S. ambassador's personal take on a situation as important as the judgment of any intelligence agency. After Benghazi, however, we can all but assume that the the White House and State Department will have close to zero tolerance for exposing U.S. officials to the risks attached to mingling in the Middle East. In every country even slightly touched with the downside of the Arab spring, our diplomats and spies will be confined heavily guarded facilities, and will only be allowed out in highly conspicuous entourages of visibly armed guards, traveling heavily armored vehicles. None of this is new, of course. Our diplomats and spies are already confined to base in both Iraq and Afghanistan, and get to meet locals only when accompanied by a small armies of security personnel ­ or when those locals willing to come into American facilities, passing through metal detectors and armed guards. People unfamiliar with espionage may wonder, given the risk, what the downside would be of making locals come to us. The problem is a basic one: Any local with a piece of dangerous information worth having won't risk of passing through a security cordon manned by locals. The would-be informant simply cannot be sure that local American guards aren't working for the enemy, even if they were willing to risk being seen by hostile lookouts when approaching a U.S. facility. The damage caused by Benghazi isn't limited to making it harder for the local mole or informant to hand over a packet of documents or a nugget of information to his American handler. Any good spy has to immerse himself in the local milieu ­ just a great diplomat like Ambassador Stevens was doing. Night and day, the capable spy is out meeting with the locals, having schooled himself in their language and customs. As soon as he gets off a plane at his new destination, he'll start learning his way around the streets. It means endless driving around, getting lost, and finding his way back. And it's always done alone, with no safe way to reach out to a local for help. PHOTOS: Protests Rage in the Middle East, Sparked by Mysterious Anti-Islamic Film Maintaining direct contact with the locals is the lifeblood of a spy seeking to understand a country. Most of what those local sources say is of little or no interest to Washington, but such contact helps orient our intelligence officers, and helps them learn to find their own way to real secrets. After Benghazi, that will be almost impossible to do. And keep in mind, sending out intelligence collectors disguised as students and businessmen is just as risky, and no more palatable to Washington. The incidents of the past two weeks suggest it may be time to admit that large parts of the Middle East have fallen off the cliff for the U.S., and large parts of it will be beyond the ken of intelligence for the foreseeable future. Something terrible is going on in Syria, but because it's too risky to put American intelligence officers on the ground there, it's unclear just how terrible it is and how it could be ended. There's simply no way for us to tell whether the armed rebellion on the ground is dominated by militant Islamists or by Jeffersonian democrats. Nor can we get a picture of how the men leading the fighting forces on which Assad is most reliant might be turned. Nor is that problem unique to Syria: a number of countries in the Middle East, from Lebanon to Yemen, Jordan to Egypt, appear poised to fall into the political abyss. Consider Egypt: Since the Muslim Brotherhood came to power, my sources tell me the army there is being purged of officers considered pro-American. I've been told that up to 4,000 officers have been let go, although I have no way to confirm that claim. But it would be surprising if the Muslim Brotherhood were not trying to cut us off from our traditional influence over the Egyptian military, just as the tragedy in Benghazi will likely cut off our access to ordinary Libyans. Ambassador Stevens died a hero. Whether or not he took an unnecessary risk, he knew he couldn't do his job while isolating himself from Libyans. The same holds true for American spies. If the contagion in the Middle East continues to spread, the one thing we can count on is going blind ­ and it won't be the fault of U.S. intelligence, or anyone in Washington, just another sign of our declining position in the region. Baer, a former Middle East CIA field officer, is TIME.com's intelligence columnist and the author of See No Evil and The Devil We Know: Dealing with the New Iranian Superpower.