How can a spy truly love a spy? To make it more confounding, how can a very ‘good’ spy love another very ‘good’ spy? After all, a very good spy is also a very good actor. Such acting goes beyond a mere stage. Overflowing before a camera or two, it is somewhat a full-time job, that requires being devious almost all the time. If interacting with a spy is potential for trouble, is not two in love together possibly double (agent) trouble?
Beyond wartime espionage matters, ‘Allied’ prompts interesting everyday life questions… How do we even trust one another in the first place? How much can we trust when we do trust? These are difficult to answer, as there seems to always be some risks involved. Both strangers and friends can prove unreliable, given enough time, when conditions change? Perhaps all we need is a single deed as proof of unshakeable trustworthiness?
That said, the truth might not be as black or white as expected, but grey and convoluted. This is so in peace time, even more so in war. In extreme times, with much more at stake, from personal life to lives of others involved, people lie for more reasons – to save allies and take down enemies. Even an ordinary citizen can turn out to be a spy, a crucial cog in the machinery to take down an empire. When intentions motivating actions are vague, dis/honour blurs.
If only all strictly commit to the Fourth Precept of not lying, things would be simpler? But how do we get all to do so, with life already being complex? We need to remember that all that is worthy is built upon the trustworthy. Honesty is thus the best policy, crucial for world peace, that begins from peace of mind, from knowing we are truthful, with nothing to hide or fear. Deep down, with our universal Buddha-nature, we do wish to trust more, and be trustworthy to all.