In 1982, a 21-year-old Anglican backpacker from B.C. travelled to Israel on a lark. Within just a few years, he would marry an Israeli woman, convert to Judaism, enlist in the Israeli army and, ultimately, travel the world spying for the Mossad. In a newly released book, The Volunteer, Michael Ross tells his amazing story

Long before I took up spying as a profession, I loved reading J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. Like any good story, his masterpiece can be easily ruined if one tries to read too many real- world lessons into the narrative. But at least one basic theme from the book has helped me make sense of the challenges this world faces, and the way we must respond to them.

Like the Hobbits in Tolkien's shire, many young Westerners today grew up largely oblivious to the modern-day Mordors of North Korea, Saddam Hussein's Iraq and Taliban-controlled Afghanistan. The period between the Cold War and 9/11 was one in which we collectively retreated into our own safe, prosperous societies. As columnist Mark Steyn wrote the day after 9/11, "From the end of the Gulf War to September 11th, 2001, the world's only superpower took a long weekend off, loaded up the SUV, and went to the mall."

But the deaths of 2,973 innocents on that day tragically communicated the message that we cannot remain holed up in such places. In this global age, jihadist terrorists are but a cheap plane ride away. And unless we go out and fight them where they breed, they will come attack us where we live.

Having retired from the Mossad, my active role in this fight is now over. But I worry about my two sons, who both still live in Israel near their mother. They come to visit me in Canada regularly. And it's always a hard moment when I have to put them back on an airplane. Every parent who has a child serving in Iraq, Afghanistan or any of the other fronts in this strange new war knows what I'm talking about. I wave goodbye and simultaneously say hello to a rush of memories that lead me along the path that brought me to where I now stand in 2007. When I think of my children, I cannot help but feel a twinge of guilt. I have projected my fight against Israel's enemies onto my two children: My eldest has fought Hezbollah as a member of the Israeli army, and his younger brother will have to do his military service in three more years.

The world is a very different place from the one it was on that fall day in 1982 when I left Victoria, B.C., on what turned out to be a two-decade long adventure. In 1987, only a few years after I finished my military service, the first intifada erupted. Then came the Oslo Accords, the emergence of Yasser Arafat's corrupt Palestinian Authority and, finally, Israel's complete withdrawal from Gaza. As the Palestinians have gained more autonomy, the area has descended into anarchy. Many areas in the West Bank are now ruled by violent clans, with the Palestinian Authority the government in name only. And Gaza, as I write this, is teetering on full-blown civil war. Which is better: chaos and autonomy, or occupation and order? I still don't know. When it comes to the seemingly intractable Arab-Israeli conflict, I'm still not sure I have a better idea than anyone else of how a permanent settlement can be achieved.

There have been other changes in the Middle East. Iraq is now free but war-torn. Iran is sponsoring conferences for Holocaust deniers. Hezbollah has more or less taken over Lebanon. And everywhere, Muslim extremists are blowing themselves up in the deluded belief that killing innocent civilians is the path to holy salvation. This path upon which the Muslim world now finds itself evokes the place the poet John Milton imagined over 300 years ago: "To bottomless perdition, there to dwell."

There's another difference, too: the very nature of war has changed. In 1982, wars were still fought with tanks and planes, and you could draw the battle lines on a map. Nowadays, you're more likely to get blown up on King George Street in Jerusalem than you are hiking along the Syrian border. Moreover, the Israeli generals who fought the 1948, 1956, 1967, 1973 and even 1982 wars never had to deal with round-the-clock news channels, including saturation coverage of every civilian killed in the fog of war. Until the creation of the International Criminal Court, Israeli generals never had to worry about being arrested abroad as war criminals. Nor did conventional war provoke in Western societies the wrenching trade- offs we are now making between security and civil liberties.

But from an Israeli perspective, perhaps the biggest difference I've observed in the last quarter-century is the re-emergence of bald-faced anti-Semitism as a mainstream ideology. The phenomenon is confined mostly to the Muslim world, but it is encouraged by the international community as well -- the most glaring example being the UN's 2001 World Conference against Racism, Racial Discrimination, Xenophobia and Related Intolerance, at which the imprimatur of the United Nations was hijacked by bigots who want to see Israel wiped off the map. Left-leaning NGOs have been an active partner in this process. This is one area in which nothing has changed since the Cold War. Then, as now, the bleeding hearts who lecture the United States and Israel have a curious willingness to overlook the far greater abuses committed by the Robert Mugabes, Mahmoud Ahmadinejads, Fidel Castros and Hassan Nasrallahs of the world.

The fight between Israelis and Palestinians has long been a media obsession in the West. But now, thanks to the emergence of Arabic- language satellite television stations seeking incendiary footage, the problem has gotten worse; and skewed, lurid coverage of Palestinian casualties is being used as a terrorist recruiting tool. Even in the early days, when I lived on my kibbutz in the 1980s, I was stunned by what I saw on the English-language television channel that broadcast from Jordan. It was as if there was no other news on the planet worthy of being reported except Israel's latest purported outrage. And Jordan is considered a moderate regime in the region. The Syrians, Saudis and Egyptians produce programs that would make a Nazi propagandist blush.

Despite all the threats facing Israel, however, I am at least optimistic that the men and women protecting the country remain highly motivated and competent. Since my retirement, I have visited my former Mossad colleagues on several occasions. Although they cannot share with me the sort of information I was privy to as an active agent, I've learned enough to know that the organization is in good hands. True, I had many trying, frustrating moments during my career. Yet I have nothing but admiration for this small, secretive organization that has been so often misunderstood and maligned. I know that on more occasions than I can count (or am permitted to describe), it took measures to eliminate threats against not only Israel, but other countries that were oblivious to the fact.

As for me, I am happy in retirement. After so many years of being someone else, I am at this point in my life ready to live within my own skin. I have paid a personal cost for my actions and, more importantly, have forced others close to me to pay a cost as well. That is the hardest part of the equation and one that I must wrestle with as I lie awake and think myself into endless scenarios of "If I had only " My neglect of my personal life resulted in divorce and a lot of long-range parenting. I think for every success

I had in my professional life, there were two failures in judgment concerning my personal life.

I know that the biggest question that I'll be asked is "Why did you write this book?" My answer is simply that part of me being myself is putting what happened to me in my previous life down on paper. I also like to think that this world will be a better, safer place if more people understand the lessons I've learned in my service to Israel. In this age of global jihad, the threat Israelis have been dealing with for decades is becoming a reality for the whole world.

I owe the Mossad much. They took care of my family as best as they could during my frequent and long absences, and they looked after many practical things for me, including my university tuition. I am sure that they will not exactly relish the fact that I have written this memoir -- no intelligence service encourages such undertakings by its former officers. They will react in their best interest, as they have when other ex-agents have written their own accounts, and that's all I can say on the matter.

Whatever they say, however, I believe that the world needs to hear these stories. A storm is coming, and it would appear that those of us who cherish life, liberty and the goodness in our way of life will have no choice but to endure it.

As for me, I decided not to wait for the inevitable. I volunteered. - Reprinted from The Volunteer, by Michael Ross with Jonathan Kay, published by McClelland & Stewart. 2007 by Michael Ross.