A Look at Stephen Marrin’s “Improving Intelligence Studies as an Academic Discipline” and Remembering a Professor and Friend, Roger Hilsman

Stephen Marrin says literature in intelligence studies must be compiled and evaluated in a structured way for it to become aggregated and made cumulative as the literature of other academic disciplines. Intelligence studies writers today often overlook past practitioners’ works. Marrin says contributions by Roger Hilsman (above) are among those overlooked. Hilsman was this author’s professor, faculty advisor, and friend during undergraduate and graduate study. Due to the fact it is edifying and thought provoking, and due to sentiment over a generous professor, greatcharlie.com has presented Marrin’s article to its readers.

In February 2016, Routledge, part of the Taylor & Francis Group, provided free online access to an article from Intelligence and National Security entitled “Improving Intelligence Studies as an Academic Discipline.” The article, by Stephen Marrin, a former Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) analyst and General Accounting Office analyst and current associate professor at James Madison University, considers whether the body of intelligence studies scholarship is sufficient as a basis for the development of intelligence studies as an academic discipline. In the article, Marrin notes that in the 1950s, there was concern that the lack of literature on the intelligence profession. Ensuring that knowledge about the intelligence business would be captured and made accessible to others was uncertain. He says that paucity has been resolved as both government and academia have been contributing literature to advance knowledge in the field. However, he argues intelligence studies literature has not been compiled, evaluated, and aggregated in a structured process yet. Marrin illustrates this by reviewing the discourse on the view of Sherman Kent, the renowned Office of Strategic Services (OSS) and CIA intelligence analyst, that the “integrity” or independence of the analytic function had to be retained outside the direct line authority of the decision maker. For the counterargument, researchers often turn to Kent’s contemporary, Willmoore Kendall, who suggested that if this were done the contribution from intelligence analysts would be marginalized in the decision making process.

Marrin is convinced that Roger Hilsman’s 1952 writings are as good as or better than Kendall’s in challenging some of Kent’s ideas. Nevertheless, he says Hilsman’s work is usually overlooked. Marrin further discusses Hilsman’s strong case for a closer relationship between intelligence analysis and decision making. Hilsman argued, “a more effective integration of knowledge and action”—or intelligence analysis and decision making—will require intelligence analysts to become more policy-oriented. Hilsman also argued that in order for intelligence to be “useful and significant,” it “should be frankly and consciously concerned with policy” and that its practitioners should have “a frame of mind which is … instrumental, action-conscious, policy-oriented. The major task before the researchers is one of recasting their thought to the context of action, and adapting their tools to the needs of policy.” Marrin believes the rediscovery of Hilsman’s work and those of others will result in a much more substantive debate about the respective roles and functions of intelligence analysis vis-à-vis decision maker assessment. Marrin later proffers that intelligence studies should emulate the key practices that enable any field of knowledge to become cumulative and in doing so become its own coherent academic discipline. In reviewing the need to evaluate intelligence studies for gaps or holes as a step to become more cumulative, Marrin discusses Hilsman’s evaluation of “the academic observers” in Strategic Intelligence and National Decisions (The Free Press, 1956)). Marrin’s article is edifying, thought provoking, and another valuable contribution by him to the body of intelligence studies scholarship.

What is most interesting to this author is Marrin’s reference to Roger Hilsman’s work. Hilsman was this author’s professor, independent study advisor, faculty advisor, and friend during undergraduate study at Columbia College, Columbia University, and mentor during graduate study at Columbia. Hilsman was a phenomenal educator. Discussions on policymaking and analysis that he had with students during seminars held at his residence were marked not only by the inspiration and encouragement he would give to students in their research and career plans, but also by a frankness and realism that would give them a leg up in future endeavors. The reminiscences Hilsman would share directly with this author during office hours were from those periods of his life that are perhaps the most intriguing in his biography. That included: studying at West Point; service in Merrill’s Marauder’s and command of an OSS guerilla warfare battalion both in Burma in World War II; work as a military planner for NATO and the Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe; service in the administration of US President John Kennedy as Director of the Bureau of Intelligence and Research for the US Department of State; and, service as Assistant Secretary of State for Far Eastern Affairs in the administration of US President Lyndon Johnson. During lectures, he would always provide a riveting anecdote from his experiences during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis to accompany his “pearls of wisdom”. Perhaps one of the most interesting aspects of what he proffered on intelligence analysis and “the politics of policymaking” was the need not only to gather and analyze intelligence to understand key actors among ones’ opponents and to formulate policy, but to understand the relevant actors in the US policymaking process to understand how to promote, formulate, and implement viable policy approaches. Due greatly to the insights and lessons, and due in part to nostalgia and sentiment for a generous professor, greatcharlie.com has decided, with permission from Taylor & Francis Online, to present Marrin’s article to its readers. Quod enim munus rei publicae ad ferre maius mellusve possumus, quam si docemus atque erudimus luventutem? (What greater or better gift (or performance of duty) can we bring to the state than if we teach and instruct youth?)

Stephen Marrin, “Improving Intelligence Studies as an Academic Discipline,” Intelligence and National Security 31, no. 2 (February 2016): 266-279.

Abstract

As the field of intelligence studies develops as an academic complement to the practice of national security intelligence, it is providing a base of knowledge for intelligence practitioners to interpret their past, understand their present, and forecast their future. It also provides the basis for broader understanding of intelligence as a function of government for other government and security officials, academicians, and the general public. In recent years there has been significant growth in the numbers and kinds of intelligence-related educational and training opportunities, with the knowledge taught in these courses and programs derived from the body of intelligence studies scholarship. The question posed here is: to what extent is this body of knowledge sufficient as a basis for the development of intelligence studies as an academic discipline?

Intelligence studies is an academic complement to the practice of national security intelligence; the contribution that higher education makes to interpreting its past, understanding its present, and forecasting its future. It forms a body of knowledge that is academic—frequently embedded within broader studies of government and foreign policy—yet also useful for the intelligence professional. As the literature grows and entire academic degree programs, departments, and even colleges are dedicated to the study and teaching of intelligence, it is becoming more established as an academic discipline.1 At the same time, there are significant gaps in the literature due to a generalized failure to ensure knowledge accumulation and aggregation over time. Improving intelligence studies as an academic discipline will require reinforcing best practices that exist in academia by identifying, acquiring, storing, creating, and disseminating new knowledge.2 More effective implementation of these practices will strengthen the coherence of intelligence studies as an academic discipline while at the same time increasing its impact on broader scholarship, public understanding, and government practice.

Intelligence Studies Literature: Large and Growing

The intelligence studies literature is quite large, and growing. This was not always true, however. In 1955, Sherman Kent observed that the intelligence profession lacked a literature and as a result was unable to ensure that knowledge about the intelligence business was captured and made accessible to others.3 To address this inadequacy, Kent strongly argued for the self-conscious development of a professional literature. Soon after, in 1957 Washington Platt observed that: “the literature dealing specifically with the principles of strategic intelligence is scant, and does not reflect even the best of what is now known.”4 Platt attributed this to “the newness of the systematic pursuit of strategic intelligence, and in part to the lack of graduate courses and graduate students” as well as the general paucity of researchers on the subject.

Many of the problems of the 1950s and the early years of intelligence studies have been fixed as both government and academia have contributed to knowledge advancement in the field. The US government has traditionally participated in this process through CIA’s Center for the Study of Intelligence, and National Intelligence University’s Center for Strategic Intelligence Research.5  Other governments such as Britain, Romania, Turkey, and Spain have also begun to support intelligence studies research, especially through intelligence studies associations. At the same time, academia has contributed to intelligence studies through the development of a cadre of intelligence studies specialists primarily in political science and history departments. They tend to come together in conferences organized by various academic and professional associations where a good part of the intelligence studies scholarship is developed and presented. Foremost among these are the Intelligence Studies Section portion of the annual International Studies Association conference, the British Study Group on Intelligence and Security and Intelligence Study Group, the Canadian Association of Security and Intelligence Studies, and the Australian Institute of Professional Intelligence Officers, though many others also support intelligence studies research and scholarship.

Once it has been developed, new contributions to the intelligence studies literature are then published in a handful of dedicated journals including the peer-reviewed journal Intelligence and National Security, the more policy-oriented International Journal of Intelligence and Counterintelligence, and the widely-referenced CIA journal Studies in Intelligence, in addition to more specialized journals generally produced by various intelligence-related organizations and associations.6 While most of the intelligence studies literature exists in the form of journal articles, book publishers have also gotten involved, with Routledge’s Studies in Intelligence book series focusing on the research market, Rowman and Littlefield’s Professional Intelligence Education Series focusing on the practitioner market, and Georgetown University Press and CQ Press focusing on the academic market. The growing literature makes up the body of knowledge in the field. The accumulation of the literature has become so notable that in 2009 the Chronicle of Higher Education published a profile of intelligence studies as a growing academic discipline.7

When one surveys the extensive intelligence studies literature in all its variety, the literature can appear to be quite large indeed. Scholars who have evaluated the intelligence studies literature have focused on general overviews or the state of the literature in specific countries.8 Some of these evaluations have even focused on the importance of learning from history, both for its own sake as well as for improving practice in the future.9 This is, essentially, the contribution that scholarship can make to practitioner-oriented efforts to learn from past experience in various history and lessons learned centers which are dedicated to avoid the Santayana admonition that “those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”10

At the same time, there are some significant problems with the intelligence studies literature which is impeding the field from developing as a coherent academic discipline. In general the intelligence literature is rich in history but both insular and theoretically thin perhaps because of a generalized failure to ensure knowledge accumulation and aggregation over time.

Failing to be Cumulative

The primary problem with the intelligence studies literature specifically is that it is anything but cumulative regarding its own intellectual history. Intelligence studies as a field of knowledge has books and journals to document “lessons identified” but it does not have a structured process for compiling and evaluating the literature so that it is aggregated and made cumulative.

Referencing prior work on the same or similar subjects, a technique used to layer new knowledge on top of old as a way to ensure knowledge is cumulative, is infrequently done by intelligence studies’ authors. Even those who should cite relevant contributions from the three core journals in the field frequently fail to do so. The end result is the repetition of ideas and knowledge rather than the creation of new knowledge. To mix a couple of metaphors, instead of standing on the shoulders of giants and creating an academic discipline, intelligence scholars seem to be re-inventing the conceptual wheel every 15 years or so without really making advances in terms of disciplinary knowledge. While this kind of conceptual repetition occurs in other academic fields as well, frequently characterized by the phrase “old wine in new bottles”, it is especially noticeable in the intelligence studies domain.

Failing to Learn from Sherman Kent

This is not to imply that past knowledge has been forgotten completely. For example, over the past 25 years Sherman Kent has been established as one of the giants in the field partly due to the efforts of Jack Davis, who has raised Sherman Kent’s profile significantly through his writings.11 This higher profile helps in the knowledge aggregation process because it provides a touchstone in the literature that later scholars and practitioners can refer back to. They can then use it as a jumping off point to make additional observations and contributions to the body of knowledge. But even then, sometimes key ideas fail to be picked up by modern scholars.

As an example, Sherman Kent’s 1949 distinction between intelligence and strategic intelligence is not widely referenced in the literature.12 As Kent put it: “Intelligence is a simple and self-evident thing. As an activity it is the pursuit of a certain kind of knowledge. In a small way it is what we all do every day . . . But no matter whether done instinctively or with skillful conscious mental effort intelligence work is in essence nothing more than the search for the single best answer.”13 Kent then goes on to distinguish this definition of “intelligence” from “strategic intelligence” which he says is “knowledge vital for national survival” and what he considers to be unique problems related to this effort.

Yet modern efforts to define intelligence do not include Kent’s 1949 distinction between intelligence and strategic intelligence. In fact, there is as of yet no consensus on the definition or purpose of intelligence. Perhaps a consensus is not required; other fields do not have unanimity on core concepts either. But the development of schools of thought around different kinds of definitions would provide taxonomies of concepts that could be used to evaluate each definition against the others, and greater understanding of the variation in perspectives embedded within this discussion of definitions.

This failure to be cumulative in terms of the definition of intelligence has also limited the development of theories of intelligence. The disagreements over definitions frequently reflect different assumptions about what the purpose of intelligence is. Definitions can be conceived of as static representations of the underlying vision of purpose, and articulating the variety of visions of purpose may be more important than achieving consensus on definitions. So rather than argue over which words to use in a definition, it would be more effective for knowledge development purposes to address what the different purposes of intelligence are, create schools of thought around them, and then foster structured debates between the respective schools of thought. Knowledge manifestly increases when the formal articulation of conflicting perspectives leads to intellectual debate as the proponents of one school of thought take on the proponents of another in a collegial debate. The development of an academic discipline is at least partially contingent on its ability to create productive debates between different schools of thought, and then grow knowledge cumulatively as the debate continues. While there has been recent progress on developing different kinds of intelligence theory, intelligence studies has not yet effectively created schools of thought or fostered these structured debates.14

Forgetting Roger Hilsman

Even when key ideas from early writers such as Kent are identified and retained in working scholars’ memories, sometimes key contemporaries are forgotten. For example, Kent argued for retaining the “integrity” or independence of the analytic function outside the direct line authority of the decisionmaker.15 The end result would be independent, objective intelligence analysis for national security decisionmakers. This concept of an independent analytic corps was subsequently challenged by Kent’s contemporary, Willmoore Kendall, who suggested that if this were done the contribution from intelligence analysts would be marginalized in the decisionmaking process.16 Instead, Kendall preferred to see a closer relationship between intelligence and decisionmaking in which “the intelligence function (helps) the policymakers ‘influence’ the course of events by helping them understand the operative factors on which the US can have an impact.”17 When scholars reference the purpose of intelligence and the relationship between intelligence and policy, they now cite Kent followed almost immediately by Kendall as a way to identify two early schools of thought on the subject.

But Roger Hilsman’s mostly-forgotten 1952 writings are as good as or better than Kendall’s as a challenge to some of Kent’s ideas. Hilsman made a strong case for a closer relationship between intelligence analysis and decisionmaking, arguing that “a more effective integration of knowledge and action”—or intelligence analysis and decisionmaking—will require intelligence analysts to become more policy-oriented.18 Hilsman directly questioned Kent’s conception of a separation of intelligence from decisionmaking by asking “whether this division of labor is a wise or even a valid one”19 and he ended up concluding that it was “both arbitrary and awkward.” Hilsman goes on to say that in order for intelligence to be “useful and significant” it “should be frankly and consciously concerned with policy” and that its practitioners should have “a frame of mind which is . . . instrumental, action-conscious, policy-oriented. The major task before the researchers is one of recasting their thought to the context of action, and adapting their tools to the needs of policy.”20

In other words, Hilsman disagreed with Kent, and believed that intelligence analysts should work in close cooperation with decisionmakers. Intelligence studies scholars know what Kent said about the intersection between intelligence analysis and decisionmaking and they also know about Kendall’s challenge, but they seem to have forgotten Hilsman even though his ideas have as much relevance as anything else written about the subject over the past 60 years.

The potential value of rediscovering Hilsman is a much more substantive debate than that which currently exists about the respective roles and functions of intelligence analysis vis-à-vis decisionmaker assessment. As an example, at one point a solution had been found which approximates Hilsman’s working relationship of knowledge and action. It was known as the National Security Studies Memorandum (NSSM) in the Nixon and Ford Administrations and the Presidential Review Memorandum (PRM) in the Carter Administration, and received a fair amount of praise for being an effective way to bridge intelligence and policy.21

Unfortunately, the PRM/NSSM product line was disbanded in 1980 and appears to have been completely forgotten by both academia and government.22 With a couple of exceptions, it has not been referenced in the literature for almost 30 years, and current long-serving members of the national security community are not aware that it used to exist. Yet some have begun to recommend and implement various mechanisms for doing exactly what the PRMs and NSSMs were built to do. For example, former Deputy National Security Advisor James Steinberg called for the National Security Council to play a more direct role in facilitating a better working relationship between intelligence producers and consumers.23 In addition, senior intelligence professionals Josh Kerbel and Anthony Olcott recommended a much closer relationship between intelligence and policy.24 If implemented, these suggestions would essentially recreate the old PRM/NSSM product decades later. But this reinvention of the wheel was not necessary. Instead, all that was needed was better utilization of the ideas that were already in the intelligence studies literature.

Ignoring Platt, Knorr, and Hughes

Another example of forgotten intelligence studies scholarship is Washington Platt’s 1957 book Strategic Intelligence Production: Basic Principles. The titles of Platt’s chapters speak to the very interests of intelligence scholars and practitioners today: Principles of Intelligence Production; From Information to Intelligence; Intelligence Production: An Act of Creative Thinking; Help From the Social Sciences; Probability and Certainty; Forecasting; Characteristics of the Intelligence Profession. All of these chapters could make contributions to the ongoing discussions regarding analytic process, utility of the social sciences, increasing imagination, futures work and forecasting, and professionalization. But Platt’s work has also been forgotten, even though it contains some important ideas that current scholars and practitioners would find quite interesting.

Finally, other forgotten scholarship includes some of the best work on intelligence analysis as a social science and the relationship between intelligence producers and consumers. Klaus Knorr’s 1964 monograph “Foreign Intelligence and the Social Sciences” contains the best evaluation of how analysts use social science methodology in the entire intelligence literature, yet is rarely cited or referenced in most work on intelligence analysis.25 In addition, Thomas Hughes wrote a short monograph in 1976 on the relationship between intelligence and policy that is one of the best treatments of the subject, but there are very few references to it in the literature.26

In their treatment of these subjects, current scholars are ignoring insights from prior works and are instead rebuilding the wheels that were built decades ago. It is necessary to know who the giants are in order to stand on their shoulders and right now it does not appear that the intelligence studies field as a whole possesses sufficient understanding of who those giants are or what can be learned from them.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Some scholars conduct more thorough literature reviews than others, and there have also been efforts to remind current scholars and practitioners of those who blazed the trails before them. For example, intelligence studies literature reviews began as early as Hilsman’s evaluation of “the academic observers” in his 1956 book chapter reviewing the works of George Pettee, Sherman Kent, and Willmoore Kendall.27 A set of reviews organized by Roy Godson in the 1980s also provided a review of what had been published up to that point.28 But then these reviews are forgotten, and have to be rewritten for a new generation.

A recent example of this is Anthony Olcott’s evaluation of the writings of Sherman Kent, Willmoore Kendall, and George Pettee that compares and contrasts their differing perspectives and approaches to strategic intelligence analysis.29 This is a valuable contribution to the literature because it reminds other scholars of these authors’ writings. It also reminds them that to understand where the literature is today it is necessary to go back and understand the perspectives of those who helped build it into what it is today. Unfortunately, Olcott’s contribution does not reference Hilsman’s 1956 book chapter which evaluated the very same authors that Olcott did with the very same goal in mind: to evaluate these early writings in order to compare and contrast their different perspectives and approaches to intelligence analysis. This is not intended as a criticism of the author, because most every scholarly contribution fails to address some significant prior work. Instead, it is being flagged here because it is symptomatic of a broader problem in the intelligence studies literature related to the limitation of knowledge accumulation in the field.

Academicians and scholars document, store, and disseminate existing knowledge as well as grow new knowledge. So why have scholars failed to learn from their own history? Because there has not been sufficient emphasis placed on the infrastructure which facilitates knowledge production in the field. In the field of security studies, for example, Stephen Walt has recommended that scholars focus on the relationship between academia and practice in ensuring healthy evolution of knowledge over time.30 He also identifies research support as well as prevailing norms and ethos of the security studies community as mechanisms where improvements can be made to knowledge production in the field. Unfortunately, the kind of emphasis that Walt put on the knowledge infrastructure in the security studies field does not have an equivalent in intelligence studies. But this lack of emphasis in the past presents us with an opportunity to build that infrastructure with an eye to the future.

Developing Intelligence Studies as an Academic Discipline

To become more cumulative, intelligence studies should emulate the key practices that enable any field of knowledge to become cumulative and in doing so become its own coherent academic discipline. This involves establishing formalized processes for creating, documenting, storing, and disseminating knowledge in such a way as to ensure that future generations of scholars and practitioners can benefit from it.31 The steps involve: (1) documenting what is known; (2) evaluating it for gaps or holes; (3) working to fill those gaps in knowledge; (4) distributing this knowledge to those who need or want it; and (5) institutionalizing these efforts.

In most academic disciplines, scholars articulate important ideas which are then evaluated and critiqued by others in the field. This leads to the development of competing schools of thought, with individuals representing those schools. But even if the idea is debunked, that discussion remains in the literature for later generations of scholars to learn from. So there also needs to be a tradition of critiquing previous interpretations, and building secondary and tertiary arguments off of the arguments of the main proponents of each school. It is from this process of evaluation and critique that the giants in the field are identified and their insights transferred to new scholars, leading to longer and deeper intellectual histories. To support this, there also needs to be a heavy emphasis on citation and footnotes in order to link current ideas back to the ongoing scholarly debates. More effective implementation of these academic best practices will strengthen the coherence of intelligence studies as an academic discipline while at the same time increasing its impact on broader scholarship, public understanding, and government practice.

The first step in improving the body of knowledge is to document what is known. This has to be a dynamic rather than static process; perhaps an annualized bibliographic book series. This is labor intensive and probably not something that most scholars would choose to do on their own. The closest working approximation to what is required is the online Muskingum College intelligence bibliography compiled by J. Ransom Clark, which is a tremendously valuable resource for both intelligence studies scholars as well as students of intelligence.32

Other efforts are either limited to specific subject matter topics, or have not been updated recently.33 To continue developing this kind of working bibliography, governments and professional associations interested in ensuring that intelligence studies remains an active academic discipline may have to collaborate on this kind of project.

The second step in improving the body of knowledge is to evaluate what is known; the literature that has already been developed. This would involve a variety of literature reviews oriented towards identifying the research questions that have been explored sufficiently, others that still require some work, and yet still others that have not yet been answered. The Intelligence Studies Section (ISS) at ISA has implemented something like this as its contribution to the International Studies Encyclopedia.34 ISS broke the intelligence studies literature down into 20 different topics, and lined up authors to write literature reviews on each of those topics. These topics include those of interest to practitioners, such as analytic methods, organizational structures and processes, training and education, and so forth. In published form, the end result provides current and future scholars and practitioners with a starting point for understanding the current state of that segment of the literature.

This kind of evaluative literature review is also being done through the Guide to the Study of Intelligence being developed by the Association of Former Intelligence Officers (AFIO). The purpose is to provide high school, college, and university instructors with “a literature review of significant works useful for educators” in order to help them with course development.35

The subject matter is wide ranging, and covers many specialized topics within the intelligence studies literature. Additional efforts like it and the one by ISA’s Intelligence Studies Section would improve the intelligence literature by ensuring that both scholars and practitioners were able to evaluate the existing state of knowledge in order to know where the gaps in knowledge are.

The third step in the process is to begin filling in the gaps in the literature identified in the evaluations. There are a variety of ways to do this, including by developing a dedicated (and funded) research agenda akin to the Army War College’s Key Strategic Issues List to back-fill gaps in knowledge. Another way to fill in gaps in knowledge is through themed conferences and symposia. Alternatively, open calls for papers for paper-based conferences on various intelligence-related themes could lead to some interesting new contributions to the literature. A model for this kind of activity could be the 2005 International Conference on Intelligence Analysis that Mitre coordinated on behalf of Mark Lowenthal, the then-Assistant Director of Central Intelligence for analysis and production. This conference was modeled on an academic conference, with a paper requirement and proposals open to the public. It also led to the presentation of papers which have since made their own contributions to on-going discussions in the scholarship.

Funding and content for these conferences could come from consortia made up of experts from government, academia, professional associations, and private industry; together they should have the infrastructure, contacts, and knowledge necessary to successfully implement this kind of venture. Associations could provide a focal point for acquiring and coordinating the kinds of knowledge that would be helpful in terms of outreach to the academic community. For example, the Office of the Director of National Intelligence has partnered with the Intelligence and National Security Alliance (INSA) on events related to analytic transformation, but other associations such as ISA’s Intelligence Studies Section or the International Association for Intelligence Education (IAFIE) would both be good partners for those wanting to engage academia. The broad point is to find appropriate collaborative partners for these sorts of knowledge-building initiatives.

The fourth step in the process would be to disseminate the new knowledge to those who can use it, including current and future intelligence scholars and practitioners. That could involve better communications between those who research and write about intelligence and those who teach it, so that a feedback loop is established to maximize learning. The students could be those in academia in intelligence studies or intelligence school programs, or those in governmental training courses. The Harvard University Intelligence and Policy Program also provides a potential model for those who want to establish a form of continuing education in the field devoted not to practitioner proficiency per se, but rather broader understandings of purpose and how best to manage the enterprise.36

Finally, the last step in the process would be to institutionalize these efforts. One kind of institutionalization would be through academic Intelligence Studies centers; academic equivalents to CIA’s Center for the Study of Intelligence or NIU’s Center for Strategic Intelligence Research.37 Such programs can centralize knowledge about the theory and practice of intelligence as a profession, and can provide this knowledge to government, other parts of academia, the news media, and segments of society in a more structured way than has been done in the past. The knowledge resident in these departments in the form of faculty, staffs, libraries, and the other infrastructure can provide the optimal educational environment for those who want to learn more about intelligence studies.

Another way to institutionalize these efforts would be to encourage Ph.D. students to specialize in intelligence studies. Intelligence studies has not developed a cumulative tradition of scholarship partly because there are relatively few intelligence studies Ph.D.s. This means that there are not many scholars who look at the body of knowledge in a longitudinal sense; how it has grown and changed over time. The Ph.D. is not a static representation of knowledge and it cannot be evaluated based on that criterion. Instead, one must evaluate the Ph.D. based on the ability of the bearer to create new knowledge. In this case, that means relevant contributions to our understanding of intelligence. To make that contribution to knowledge, the Ph.D. student first has to survey and evaluate the current state of existing knowledge before deciding precisely how to contribute to new knowledge.

More Ph.D. students studying more intelligence-related subjects will enable the literature to become more cumulative than it ever has been, identify where cumulative progression of knowledge has stalled, and contribute to the institutionalization of footnoting and other practices that would be indicative of greater scholarly rigor. The most effective way to encourage more doctoral students is to provide them with funding. This funding could come in the form of fellowships which bring junior scholars into academic institutions where they would add to the creativity and learning of that institution by managing different projects or developing new courses. This kind of fellowship could be funded by governments in the same way that they fund other kinds of Ph.D.s, the private sector which would benefit from the knowledge created, or professional intelligence associations in their efforts to support related educational activities.

Finally, a push to make the intelligence studies literature more cumulative would also be to make it more professional, more structured, and more disciplined which will increase its impact on broader literatures as well as among intelligence professionals. Currently intelligence studies as a field of knowledge is subordinate to other more traditional academic disciplines including political science, history, anthropology, sociology, psychology, and communications disciplines. Unfortunately, while the intelligence studies literature itself is extensive, many mainstream scholars do not sufficiently incorporate its knowledge and insight into their work.38

As a result, both conventional academic scholars and by extension the general public do not incorporate the extensive nuance reflected in the intelligence studies literature and instead frequently rely on broad brush generalizations and mischaracterizations. Improving the coherence and rigor of intelligence studies as an academic discipline will highlight the breadth and depth of the literature to those who were previously unaware of it.

Intelligence studies as an academic discipline was in its formative stages for about 20 years, from the mid-1980s through to the early 2000s. It then entered a form of adolescence resulting from the flow of interest and money in its direction after the 2001 terrorist attacks. Through the 2000s the literature has grown in terms of sophistication and abstraction, with much additional emphasis on key intelligence concepts and theories. As the field continues to mature, improving intelligence studies as an academic discipline will require a return to scholarly fundamentals and best practices in order to create a cumulative, comprehensive, and influential body of disciplinary knowledge for future scholars and practitioners to learn from and contribute to.

Notes

1 For a recent discussion of intelligence studies as an academic discipline, see Loch Johnson and Allison Shelton, “Thoughts on the State of Intelligence Studies: A Survey Report”, Intelligence and National Security 28/1 (2013) pp.109–20.

2 These recommendations are derived in part from remarks given at the Conference on Learning the Lessons of All-Source Intelligence Analysis sponsored by State Department’s Bureau of Intelligence and Research and the Office of the Director of National Intelligence’s Intelligence Community Lessons Learned Center, Washington, DC, July 2008.

3 Sherman Kent, “The Need for an Intelligence Literature”, Studies in Intelligence Spring (1955) pp.1–11.

4 Washington Platt, Strategic Intelligence Production: Basic Principles (USA: Praeger 1957) pp.133–4.

5 Russell G. Swenson, “Meeting the Intelligence Community’s Continuing Need for an Intelligence Literature”, Defense Intelligence Journal 11/2 (2002) pp.87–96.

6 For more on the value of the International Journal of Intelligence and Counterintelligence for conventional scholars and practitioners, see Jason Vest, “Artificial Intelligence”, Foreign Policy, 4 January 2006.

7 Peter Monaghan, “Intelligence Studies”, The Chronicle of Higher Education, 20 March 2009.

8 Loch K. Johnson, “An Introduction to the Intelligence Studies Literature” in Loch Johnson (ed.) Strategic Intelligence (Westport, CT: Praeger 2007) pp.1–20; Kenneth G. Robertson, “The Study of Intelligence in the United States” in Roy Godson (ed.) Comparing Foreign Intelligence: The US, USSR, UK and the Third World (Washington, DC: Pergamon-Brassey’s 1988) pp.7–42; Geoffrey R. Weller, “Assessing Canadian Intelligence Literature: 1980–2000”, International Journal of Intelligence and Counterintelligence 14/1 (2001) pp.49–61; Len Scott, “Sources and Methods in the Study of Intelligence: A British View” in Loch Johnson (ed.) Strategic Intelligence (Westport, CT: Praeger 2007) pp.87–108; Eric Denécé and Gérald Arboit, “Intelligence Studies in France”, International Journal of Intelligence and Counterintelligence 23/4 (2010–11) pp.725–47; Gustavo Díaz Matey, “The Development of Intelligence Studies in Spain”, International Journal of Intelligence and Counterintelligence 23/4 (2010–11) pp.748–65.

9 Christopher Andrew, “Intelligence Analysis Needs to Look Backwards Before Looking Forward”, paper given at the New Frontiers of Intelligence Analysis Conference, “Shared Threats, Diverse Perspectives, New Communities”, 31 March–2 April 2004. Stephen Marrin, “Preventing Intelligence Failures By Learning From the Past”, International Journal of Intelligence and Counterintelligence 17/4 (2004) pp.655–72; John Hedley, “Learning from Intelligence Failures”, International Journal of Intelligence and Counterintelligence 18/3 (2005) pp.435–50; Len Scott and R. Gerald Hughes, “Intelligence, Crises and Security: Lessons from History?”, Intelligence and National Security 21/5 (2006) pp.653–74.

10 George Santayana, The Life of Reason (NY: Scribner’s 1905–6).

11 Jack Davis, “The Kent-Kendall Debate of 1949”, Studies in Intelligence 36/5 (1992) pp.91–103; Jack Davis, “Sherman Kent and the Profession of Intelligence Analysis”, Occasional Papers 1, no. 5, Washington, DC, Central Intelligence Agency, The Sherman Kent Center for Intelligence Analysis, November 2002; Jack Davis, “Sherman Kent’s Final Thoughts on Analyst-Policymaker Relations”, Occasional Papers 2, no. 3, Washington, DC, Central Intelligence Agency, The Sherman Kent Center for Intelligence Analysis, June 2003.

12 Thomas F. Troy, “The ‘Correct’ Definition of Intelligence”, International Journal of Intelligence and Counterintelligence 5/4 (1991–2) pp.433–54; Martin T. Bimfort, “A Definition of Intelligence”, Studies in Intelligence 2/4 (1958); Michael Warner, “Wanted: A Definition of Intelligence”, Studies in Intelligence 46 (2002) pp.15–22; Kristan Wheaton and Michael Beerbower, “Towards a New Definition of Intelligence”, Stanford Law and Policy Review 17 (2006) pp.319–30; Alan Breakspear, “A New Definition of Intelligence”, Intelligence and National Security 28/5 (2013) pp.678–93.

13 Sherman Kent, Strategic Intelligence for American World Policy (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press 1951) p.vii.

14 For recent progress on intelligence theory, see Gregory F. Treverton, Seth G. Jones, Steven Boraz and Phillip Lipscy, Conference Proceedings: Toward a Theory of Intelligence Workshop Report (Arlington, VA: RAND National Security Research Division 2006); Peter Gill, Stephen Marrin and Mark Phythian (eds.), Intelligence Theory: Key Questions and Debates (London: Routledge 2008); Stephen Marrin, “Intelligence Analysis Theory: Explaining and Predicting Analytic Responsibilities”, Intelligence and National Security 22/6 (2007) pp.821–46.

15 See “The Problem of Objectivity and Integrity” in Kent, Strategic Intelligence for American World Policy, pp.195–201.

16 Willmoore Kendall, “The Function of Intelligence”, World Politics 1/4 (1949) pp.542–52, p.550.

17 Davis, “The Kent-Kendall Debate of 1949” p.95.

18 Roger Hilsman Jr., “Intelligence and Policy-Making in Foreign Affairs”, World Politics 5/1 (1952) pp.1–45, p.45.

19 Ibid., p.25.

20 Ibid., p.44.

21 Arthur S. Hulnick and Deborah Brammer, “The Impact of Intelligence on the Policy Review and Decision Process”, Center for the Study of Intelligence, Central Intelligence Agency, Washington, DC, January 1980.

22 Stephen Marrin and Philip H.J. Davies, “National Assessment by the National Security Council Staff 1968–80: American Experiment in a British Style of Analysis”, Intelligence & National Security 24/5 (2009) pp.644–73.

23 James B. Steinberg, “The Policymaker’s Perspective: Transparency and Partnership” in Roger George and James Bruce (eds.) Analyzing Intelligence: Origins, Obstacles, and Innovations (Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press 2008) pp.82–90.

24 Josh Kerbel and Anthony Olcott, “The Intelligence-Policy Nexus: Synthesizing with Clients, Not Analyzing for Customers”, Studies in Intelligence 54/4 (2010) pp.1–13.

25 Klaus E. Knorr, “Foreign Intelligence and the Social Sciences”, Research Monograph No. 17, Center of International Studies, Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs, Princeton University, June 1964.

26 Thomas L. Hughes, The Fate of Facts in a World of Men, Headline Series No. 233 (NY: Foreign Policy Association 1976).

27 Roger Hilsman, Strategic Intelligence and National Decisions (Glencoe, IL: The Free Press 1956) pp.123–37.

28 Godson, The New Study of Intelligence, pp.1–6; Robertson, “The Study of Intelligence in the United States”, pp.7–42; Christopher Andrew, “Historical Research on the British Intelligence Community”, in Roy Godson (ed.) Comparing Foreign Intelligence: The US, USSR, UK and the Third World (Washington, DC: Pergamon-Brassey’s 1988) pp.43–64.

29 Anthony Olcott, “Revisiting the Legacy: Sherman Kent, Willmoore Kendall, and George Pettee – Strategic Intelligence in the Digital Age”, Studies in Intelligence 53/2 (2009) pp.21–32.

30 Stephen M. Walt, The Renaissance of Security Studies, International Studies Quarterly 35/2 (1991) pp.211–39.

31 This is the knowledge advancement portion of the professionalization process. Stephen Marrin and Jonathan Clemente, “Modeling an Intelligence Analysis Profession on Medicine”, International Journal of Intelligence and Counterintelligence 19/4 (2006–7) pp.642–65.

32 J. Ransom Clark, “The Literature of Intelligence: A Bibliography of Materials, with Essays, Reviews and Comments, Muskingum University, 1998–2012” < http://intellit.muskingum.edu/index.html>

33 George C. Constantinides, Intelligence and Espionage: An Analytical Bibliography (Boulder, CO: Westview Press 1983); Marjorie W. Cline, Carla E. Christiansen and Judith M. Fontaine (eds.), Scholar’s Guide to Intelligence Literature: Bibliography of the Russell J. Bowen Collection (Frederick, MD: University Publications of America 1983); Neal H. Petersen, American Intelligence, 1775–1990: A Bibliographical Guide (Claremont, CA: Regina Books 1992); The Future of Intelligence Analysis, Vol. II, Final Report, Center for International and Security Studies at Maryland, 10 March 2006; Greta E. Marlatt, “Intelligence and Policymaking: A Bibliography”, Naval Postgraduate School, December 2010.

34 Robert A. Denemark (ed.), International Studies Encyclopedia (Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell 2010) < http://eu.wiley.com/WileyCDA/WileyTitle/productCd-1405152389.html> with specific intelligence-related publications listed here: < http://intellit.muskingum.edu/refmats_folder/teachingiss.html>

35 AFIO Weekly Intelligence Notes #37-10, 5 October 2010 < http://www.afio.com/sections/wins/2010/2010-37.htm>

36 Ernest R. May and Philip D. Zelikow (eds.), Dealing with Dictators: Dilemmas of US Diplomacy and Intelligence Analysis, 1945–1990, BCSIA Studies in International Security (Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press 2006) pp.ix–x.

37 Stephen Marrin, “Intelligence Studies Centers: Making Scholarship on Intelligence Analysis Useful”, Intelligence and National Security 27/3 (2012) pp.398–422.

38 Amy B. Zegart, “Cloaks, Daggers, and Ivory Towers: Why Academics Don’t Study US Intelligence” in Loch Johnson (ed.) Strategic Intelligence (Westport, CT: Praeger 2007) pp.21–34. Also see Amy Zegart, “Universities Must Not Ignore Intelligence Research”, Chronicle of Higher Education, 3 July 2007. For examples of intelligence studies works that are good treatments of the subject but fail to address existing scholarship, see Richard Posner, Preventing Surprise Attacks: Intelligence Reform in the Wake of 9/11 (Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield 2005); Douglas Hart and Steven Simon, “Thinking Straight and Talking Straight: Problems of Intelligence Analysis”, Survival 48/1 (2006) pp.35–60; David Omand, Securing the State (NY: Columbia University Press 2010); Ken Lieberthal, The US Intelligence Community and Foreign Policy: Getting Analysis Right (Washington, DC: Brookings Institution 2009). For an exception consisting of a treatment of intelligence which also cites the relevant intelligence studies literature, see Robert Jervis, Why Intelligence Fails: Lessons from the Iranian Revolution and the Iraq War (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press 2010).

Book Review: Donald P. Gregg, Pot Shards: Fragments of a Life Lived in CIA, the White House, and the Two Koreas (Vellum, 2014)

Pot Shards presents the life and times of Ambassador Donald P. Gregg (above), an individual who contributed greatly to US foreign and national security policy. Readers are taken on a journey through Northeast and Southeast Asia and halls of power in Washington, DC. Readers will discover how much Gregg valued others and his value to humanity.

The Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training (ADST) is an independent, non-profit organization that advances the understanding of diplomacy and supports the training of foreign affairs personnel through a variety of programs and activities. As part of its Foreign Affairs Oral History Project, it has prepared thousands of transcripts of interviews recorded with US Foreign Service veterans.  These excellent oral histories present the realities of diplomacy to include thought provoking, sometimes absurd, and often horrifying stories from which valuable lessons can be drawn.  In April 2014, ADST graciously authorized greatcharlie.com to present the oral history of Ambassador Donald P. Gregg, an authentic intelligence professional and consummate diplomat.  In July 2014, Gregg published his extraordinary, must read memoirs entitled, Pot Shards: Fragments of a Life Lived in CIA, the White House, and the Two Koreas (Vellum, 2014).  It is part of ADST-DACOR’s Diplomats and Diplomacy Series. (DACOR is an organization of foreign affairs professionals.)

Donald Gregg was an employee of the US government for forty-three years, working in the fields of intelligence and diplomacy.  Gregg served in the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) for thirty-one years from 1951 to 1982.  Paramilitary trained and airborne trained, he spent most of his career in assignments overseas and advising the most senior leaders of the CIA.  He was assigned to Japan, Burma, Vietnam, and Korea.  He was special assistant to the Ambassador of Korea from 1973 to 1975.  Gregg also served as a member of the White House National Security Council staff from 1979 to 1982. Upon retirement from CIA, Gregg became National Security Adviser to US Vice President George H.W. Bush from 1982 to 1989, and US Ambassador to the Republic of Korea from 1989 to 1993.  Outside of government, Gregg served as a senior consultant to Goldman Sachs, the chairman and president of The Korea Society in New York, and he currently serves as the chairman of the Pacific Century Institute in Los Angeles.  Gregg was born in New York. He enlisted in the US Army upon graduation from high school in 1945.  He received training as a cryptanalyst and reached the rank of sergeant.  He went on to attend Williams College from 1947 to 1951, majoring in Philosophy.  Gregg has received numerous awards from CIA, the US Department of Defense and the South Korean government and five honorary degrees from American and foreign colleges.  Gregg has visited the North Korea several times and advocates for the normalization of relations between that country and the US.

On its face, Pot Shards is a significant contribution to the record of the US experience in the Far East written by a major player, an intelligence icon.  Pot Shards covers some weighty matters regarding intelligence, diplomacy, and defense policy.  Some of the issues and events discussed by Gregg have never been revealed in other texts. Gregg could have limited the book to the audience of policy scholars, analysts, historians, intelligence professionals and veterans and all those familiar with the subject matter.  However, he presents Pot Shards in a way that everyone can understand and enjoy at some level.  There is much in Pot Shards that would especially thrill those beguiled by spy novels and films and spy craft enthusiasts.  Yet, what makes Pot Shards most exciting is the story of the man: Donald Gregg.  With good humor, he recounts many satisfying exploits, but also reveals vicissitudes and trials he faced.

Individuals that Gregg mentions in Pot Shards are those with whom he had continuous contact as managers, mentors, and friends. Some of are well known, “foreign policy celebrities,” such as Robert McNamara, Henry Kissinger, Creighton Abrams, Richard Helms, William Colby,  Harold Brown, Zbigniew Brzezinski, Richard Holbrooke, and Richard Allen. Others may be remembered only by a few.  Gregg sheds light on their impact and exactly how their ideas ignited events from the inside. Moreover, Gregg indicates those individuals helped him develop a greater understanding of the world and other ways of thinking, allowing him to become something that he perhaps would not have been without them.

In Cloud of Witnesses, George Rutler examines sixty-six individuals, who have influenced his life, based on what Aristotle would refer to as their ethos (an honest use of talent), logos (an honest use of mind), and pathos (an honest involvement in the suffering of the world).  That would be the best way to examine Gregg’s presentation of his life and career.  At Williams College, Gregg was influenced by the thinking of Professor John William Miller, the head of the Philosophy Department, who taught him the simple definition of morality, “Never treat another human being as an object.”  Gregg explained that he has tried to live by that definition.  Gregg was also influenced by Miller’s interest in people taking action and being defined by, and held responsible for, the actions they took.  Miller taught him that “Man does not have a nature, he has a history,” Gregg recalled Miller urged his students to act upon what they believed in and to “cut behind appearance toward reality.”

It was clear from many anecdotes in Pot Shards that Gregg has had a genuine interest in people.  He has looked beyond differences, avoiding being caught up with race, ethnicity, or other things which had been used particularly in the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s to determine how one should relate with another.  For example, when he first came to Washington, he would enjoy going to jazz clubs which catered to African-American patrons.  That was notable because Washington, DC at the time was a segregated city. Serving in the military at a young age, he learned about different men and different behaviors, and witnessed racial and ethnic prejudice which repulsed him.  In Kai Bird’s excellent work, The Good Spy: The Life and Death of Robert Ames, it was indicated that racial and ethnic prejudice was apparent at CIA.  It was manifested in the casual and official discussions of some, and even worse, in decision making.  That was certainly not Gregg’s way.  His type of clearheaded, solid judgments resulting from giving situations and individuals a deeper look, was always needed.  Virtue shines in the presence of vice.

Having served as a cryptanalyst in the US Army, Gregg was sought by the National Security Agency in the middle of his senior year at Williams.  However, the recruiter rather than take Gregg suggested he join CIA.  Gregg knew little of the CIA and what it did.  However, the recruiter, with what Gregg now thinks was a bit of cynicism said, “Oh, they jump out of airplanes and are going to save the world!” That attracted Gregg, and initiated his thirty-one year career with the Agency.  Gregg has provided an incredibly intriguing discussion of his paramilitary training at CIA and the others he met during it. Gregg makes it clear in that discussion though, that so-called “good old days” in CIA were not always so good.  There were crazy events. Some people were not best serving the needs of CIA or their country. Managers who were very most often former OSS officers tried to recreate approaches taken by their former organization in German and Japanese held territory in Europe and Asia.   Often proposals for covert operations were based on questionable judgment and scant research.  Real possibilities for success were not fully considered by decision makers.  They were praised and approved by management as displaying a “Gung-Ho”, “Go Get ’em”, motivated attitude.  Yet, those operations more often resembled suicide missions.  Gregg found himself on such an assignment.

In March 1952, Gregg was assigned to fly to Bangkok, Thailand, where he would pick up a group of North Vietnamese whom he would train in sabotage and small unit tactics at a secret base. Following the completion of the training, Gregg and his team would be parachuted into North Vietnam.  Gregg spoke neither Vietnam nor French, and knew nothing of Vietnam or its history, and he was far from a veteran saboteur or guerilla leader. Gregg discovered an attractive post-debutante in her mid-thirties was the Vietnam plans officer and he had heard her say that her “Vietnam plan” had been accepted.  A cocktail party was given to celebrate the occasion, but Gregg was not invited.  When Gregg met his team, they turned out to be totally untrained Vietnamese with whom he had no way of communicating.  Gregg said they looked childlike.  Later he further learned that they were ethnic-Vietnamese from Thailand and had never set foot in Vietnam.  The potential for disaster was enormous. Gregg had no intention of backing out, but the truth behind the operation eventually revealed, and things worked out for the best. The operation was exposed as a fraud.  It turned out that a corrupt principal agent had hoodwinked CIA officers in Bangkok and had “taken the money and run.”  The mission was cancelled.

However, Pot Shards does not serve as some expression of some longstanding of primal doubt.  Gregg never moved about stating “Something is rotten in the Agency.”  Readers discover that through coping with those problems he learned not only what to do, but more importantly, “how not to do it.”  Gregg could recognize what was good, as good.  Gregg also worked with many in CIA who were true professionals.  He modeled his own management and decision making style in part from theirs. Gregg’s loyalty to his country and conviction toward duty was surpassed by no other.  He is proud of his years in CIA. So much of that experience was central to his personal life.  Through CIA, he met some life-long friends.  Through CIA, he met his wife.

Gregg makes it clear that his wife Margaret (“Meg”) has been central to his life.  A fortuitous encounter while hailing a taxi at Washington, DC’s Union Station set off of chain of interesting events that led to their life-long partnership.  Unbeknownst to Gregg, Meg, fluent in Russian, was actually Gregg’s superior in the Operations branch at CIA when they met.  However, as Gregg makes clear he was irresistibly taken by her combination of beauty, intellect, and charm, which made her something supreme to him.  Whether accompanying him in Japan, Korea, or Burma or remaining back in the US with their three children while Gregg served in Vietnam, she was the rock on which Gregg was able to build a career while raising a family. Relating the course of their marriage, Gregg leaves no doubt that meeting Meg was the best luck he ever had.

As Gregg rose through the ranks at CIA, he saw more clearly how many policies that drove CIA activities were not carefully considered and constructed. Gregg saw how euphonious policy speeches by political officials would often be based on captivating assessments of positive outcomes and capabilities of foreign partners not based in reality. He could see that near desperation on wanting a situation to be certain way led many, even the well-intentioned, to project their thinking on that of senior foreign counterpart, or worse, an adversary.  Only a negative outcome would reveal the error of a flawed approach for some.  In the early years of the US involvement in Vietnam Gregg witnessed this.  Gregg recalled accompanying US Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara to Vietnam in 1963. McNamara was told by General Paul Harkins, who commanded the US Military Assistance Command in Vietnam (MACV) that “We will be out of here with a military victory in six months.”  McNamara was disturbed by the unrealistic reporting, and told US President Lyndon Johnson that things were really not as good as Harkins’ people seemed to think they were.  Gregg also recalled a war game in 1964 on the use of airpower in the North Vietnam.  He participated with: General Maxwell Taylor, US Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff; General Earl Wheeler, US Army Chief of Staff; General Curtis LeMay, US Air Force Chief of Staff; John McCone, CIA Director; and, in the presence of McGeorge Bundy, the National Security Adviser.  Gregg, as the CIA representative of the Blue Team, gave CIA’s analysis of the plan to bomb North Vietnam.  Gregg described the rationale of the plan and then proceeded to explain why it would fail.  The rest of that story will not be spoiled here.  One will have to read Pot Shards to discover what the response to Gregg was from the many powerful men in the room.  Gregg’s description of it all makes the moment palpable.

Writing about his second tour in Vietnam, Gregg provides good lessons on how to function effectively as a manager or leader under extremely adverse circumstances.  His lessons hold true for professions beyond intelligence for they primarily concern human nature and the wonders and realities of human interaction.  There were many difficult experiences that were a part of that period.  One evening Gregg received a frantic call from a member of his crew who he described as a gifted and committed paramilitary officer, with several tough tours under his belt.  The officer had married a Vietnamese war widow with children and lived in her Bien Hoa apartment.  He had just returned from a mission to find one of his children “desperately ill.”  Gregg rushed to the officer’s apartment with medical assistance in tow.  Yet, by the time he arrived, he found the tragic scene of a beautiful young girl, eight years old, lying silent and still, with her frightened siblings and anguished mother, who was being comforted by the officer.  The girl was confirmed dead and the officer asked Gregg to take her away.  Gregg picked up the child and walked out.  Doing so reminded him of carrying his own small daughters Lucy and Alison to bed after they had fallen asleep. He searched for an answer on how to handle the situation.  This was a CIA matter and had to be kept confidential.  Gregg eventually decided to bring the child to the emergency room of the US Army hospital at Long Binh, where US Army Military Police told him where to go to have the body cared for.

In this segment of Pot Shards, there are also fascinating stories of Gregg’s exploits in combat.  He was in the thick of things as CIA Regional Officer in Military Region 3 (War Zone D).  There are accounts of Gregg managing paramilitary operations and interrogations of his crew.  He flew with forward controllers, directing fire support for US and allied troops.  He described radio communications from battles, the descriptions of which bring the reader right to the scene.  Gregg’s efforts were appreciated by US and allied commanders he worked with such as: General James Hollingsworth (US);  General John McGiffert (US); General Nguyen Van Minh (South Vietnam); General Jangnai Sohn (Korea); and General Roh Tae-woo (Korea); Colonel Nguyen Cong Vinh (South Vietnam); and, Colonel Bach Van Hien (South Vietnam).

On his second tour, Gregg could still see how different ideas, among policy and decision makers, about what was truly happening in there impacted the decisions being made and the lessons the US military as well as other security organizations as CIA, were learning from the experience.  At the very end of his tour in Vietnam, General Creighton Abrams hosted a lunch for Gregg at his MACV Headquarters in Saigon, a place where he had been excoriated in the past.  At lunch, Gregg sat next to Abrams and six or eight of his subordinates.  He felt Abrams was the best of the three commanders the US sent to Vietnam.  Knowing Abrams had been in Vietnam for some time, Gregg asked him how long it had actually been.  Abrams proudly responded, “Six years.”  Gregg then asked him how he kept going, and Abrams stated, “Well, I keep learning things.”  Gregg then politely asked him what he had learned so far, and Abrams replied that just finished reading Bernard Fall’s Hell in a Very Small Place, an account of the French defeat at Dien Bien Phu. Abrams said that he “now” understood Fall’s reasoning as to why the French had failed to reestablish their colonial rule in Vietnam.  When Gregg asked “How did Fall explain it,” Abrams explained, “Fall said that the French lost because they failed to politically organize the terrain.  I think I understand that now, but I would not have understood that a year ago.”  Gregg had no response to that, but explained that when he later saw pictures of heavy US battle tanks, named after Abrams, crashing around Iraq and Afghanistan, he thought of Abrams’ answer.

Through his achievements in Vietnam, Gregg developed a reputation in CIA as a very wise and capable officer.  He knew how to present ideas and concepts to develop agreement or consensus on issues. Bringing his thoughts to precise declarations took skill.  This was one of the many skills that Gregg honed through interactions with a number of accomplished professionals.  One who helped Gregg elevate his capabilities while he served in his next overseas assignment as CIA Station Chief in Seoul, was US Ambassador Philip Habib.  Habib was gruff and outspoken.  However, by Gregg’s account, he understood people well and was an excellent diplomat for whom he developed tremendous respect.  Gregg indicates that it was Habib’s maneuvering that help to save the life of liberal South Korean politician, Kim Dae-jung, after he had been kidnapped from his Tokyo hotel room by the Korean Central Intelligence Agency (KCIA).  Habib never accused the Korean President Park Chung-hee of ordering the kidnapping but sent a message to him explaining that the US was aware of the action and hoped he could do everything to keep Kim alive.  This allowed Park a chance to avoid direct embarrassment and contrive a story in which he accused rogue elements of the Korean government had alone committed the act, and in which he took credit for saving Kim.  Gregg said Habib’s astute handling of the situation kept Kim alive and allowed Park to save face.  Gregg explained saving face was always a major concern in Asia.  Habib’s actions allowed Washington’s relations with Seoul to improve.

Gregg completed his career at CIA on a high note at the US National Security Council.  He had achieved success maintaining an ethic of his own, a moral code.  There was goodness living inside a good man.  He saw the greater good that would result from his actions against Communism.  Gregg was invited to join the administration of US President Ronald Reagan as the National Security Adviser to then Vice President George H.W. Bush.  His job made use of all of his skills and experience from CIA.  During those six years with Bush, Gregg traveled to 65 countries.  Along with those visits came his attendance at endless formal events.  Gregg recounts some of rather unusual happenings at such gatherings, providing readers with a gift bag of humorous stories.  Yet, while in the Reagan administration, his self-image was put to the test.  Gregg dedicates a chapter to a painful period of that service: IranContra, which was the purported attempt by the administration to sell surplus arms to Iran in exchange for it to ensure the release of US hostages being held in Lebanon.  Claims that Gregg was involved with that matter were invalidated.  Gregg’s account of it all is captivating.

As Ambassador to South Korea in the administration of President George H.W. Bush, Gregg successfully made use of his experience at CIA as well as the White House.  However, Gregg did not tap into his training as an intelligence officer to manipulate Korean officials or simulate closeness with Koreans he met.  There was no deception at all. Gregg was genuine, natural, in his interactions and that is what helped him gain their respect and confidence.  There was a type of communion between Gregg and many of his senior Korean counterparts.  One of the issues Gregg was determined to confront as ambassador was the continuing negative note in US-South Korean relations over the alleged US involvement in the Kwanju Uprising of 1980.  Then Korean President Chun Doo-hwan had brutally cracked down on protests in Kwanju in the wake of the arrest of Kim Dae-jung on charges of treason. At least two hundred Koreans were killed in the streets.  Chun claimed that the US had fully supported his actions.  That was not true, but by the time Gregg arrived in Korea as ambassador, hostility toward the US was still strong in the city.  The US Cultural Center in Kwangju was often attacked with fire bombs by rioters trying to drive the US out.  Gregg after consulting with others, including Kim Dae-jung, went to Kwangju in January 1990.  While there, Gregg met with six leaders of anti-US groups for over three hours.  Gregg explained that he came to Kwangju to lessen the hostility that the people in the city seemed to hold for the US.  Gregg explained to them that the US was not connected at all to the incident, and many of the actions by the US at that time, such as moving an aircraft carrier to Pusan were not a show of support for Chun. That particular move was meant to signal to North Korea not to intervene.  The anti-US protesters believed the US was close to Chun administration, but Gregg let it be known that there was general distaste for it.  In that vein, Gregg explained, that at the time, the Reagan administration had agreed to receive Chun at the White House if Chun agreed to lift the death sentence imposed on Kim Dae-jung, and to release him from prison.  Most important in the conversation was Gregg’s apology over the fact the US had remained silent for so long on the Kwangju issue.  Gregg diffused the hostility toward the US and attacks on the Cultural Center in Kwangju stopped.  Gregg explained his first visit to Kwangju was deeply valuable in showing him how Koreans can hold feelings of han (deep-seated resentment) when they are dealing with events caused by others and which they feel are unjustified, immoral, and unfair.  When Gregg made his first visit to Pyongyang in April 2002, he explains that he encountered the same feelings of han that he had encountered in Kwangju twelve years before.  However, he notes that lessons learned in Kwangju were helpful as he tried to establish a dialogue and some degree of trust between his North Korean hosts and himself.  Ambassador Philip Habib certainly would have been proud of Gregg’s performance.

There is much more in Pot Shards to enjoy!  It is a book one will want to read again and again.

Quam bene vivas referre, non quam diu!  (It is how well you live that matters, not how long!)  There have been a few stories written about Gregg in books, articles, in anecdotal form.  Many were written in the troubled time of the Iran-Contra Affair.  Pot Shards presents the true life and times of Gregg, an individual who contributed greatly to US foreign and national security policy. Readers are taken on a journey through Northeast and Southeast Asia and halls of power in Washington, DC.  Readers will also discover how much Gregg valued others and his value to humanity.  Gregg continues to make a valuable contribution to US foreign and defense policy efforts as a private citizen.  Pot Shards is an absolute pleasure to read.  Without reservation, greatcharlie.com highly recommends Pot Shards to everyone.

By Mark Edmond Clark

Book Review: Kai Bird, The Good Spy: The Life and Death of Robert Ames (Crown, 2014)

Robert Ames did not join the Central Intelligence Agency in 1960 with a plan to go to the Middle East, a region that had already stirred his interest. Yet, it was the best place for him. Ames’ own positive approach toward individuals and his training and mentoring coalesced magnificently. He wanted to help the people of the region while promoting US interests.

In The Good Spy: The Life and Death of Robert Ames (Crown, 2014), Kai Bird tells the story of the immense life of Robert Ames of the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA). As a “good spy,” Bird makes it clear that Ames is not a cliché of romantic US spy lore. He was indeed a unique individual. Bird deftly sheds light on his character and his brand of tradecraft in the clandestine profession. Regarding his “life and death,” Bird brilliantly details Ames life from birth on March 6, 1934 into humble beginnings of a working class neighborhood of Philadelphia to the moment he was killed at 49, in the April 18, 1983 truck bombing of the US Embassy in Beirut, Lebanon. He left behind a wife and six children. Looking back at Ames life, it is hard to imagine how Ames could have been happier, or could have been better suited for any job, anywhere other than with CIA in the Middle East. Ames accomplished much. Bird proffers a view held by Ames former colleagues that he ignited the Oslo Peace Process due to his close relationship with Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) Chairman Yasser Arafat’s intelligence and security chief. Bird believes, if Ames had lived, he might have “helped heal the rift between Arabs and the West.”

Bird was never an US intelligence officer. He is a renowned Pulitzer Prize-winning historian and biographer. Yet, Bird writes The Good Spy with incredible insight into the life of a case officer living in the Middle East. Perhaps his perspectives may have been enhanced by recall of his own experiences as the son of a US Foreign Service officer who was posted primarily in the region. Bird grew up in some impressive spots in the region to include: Jerusalem, Israel, Beirut, Lebanon; Dhahran, Saudi Arabia; and Cairo, Egypt. Moreover, as an adolescent, Bird actually met Ames while his father was posted in Dhahran. Ames was using the official cover of a Foreign Service officer at the US consulate and for three years his family lived across the street from Bird’s home. In his research, Bird was able to interview more than forty officers, both clandestine officers and analysts from CIA’s operations and intelligence directorates were willing to share their memories of Ames. Interview of others were also conducted with relevant sources in Lebanon, Jordan, and Israel. Ames` wife spoke with Bird and shared her small collection of photographs, correspondences, and a family scrapbook. Bird skillfully used those unique resources, making his biography a profound, edifying discussion of Ames and his career.

Ames loved God, his country, his family, and the Middle East. While some colleagues and managers were perhaps indifferent or often confused about the region, Ames spoke with vividness and a certain whimsy about it. He steeped himself in Arab culture and language and Islam enough to be called an Arabist and become a National Intelligence Officer for the Near East at the time of his death. Ames discovered in the field how to navigate through a myriad of situations and manage complex intertwinings in the region. Those skills were refined by experiences and by people willing to serve as his mentors and advisors. Bird provides readers with enough information to realize that long before he came to CIA, Ames was implanted with an ability to engage people in a natural way and establish genuine friendships. What was worthy about people he met, he tended to appreciate and embrace. He would shuck off what was not. He did not suffer fools lightly or conceit to evil. He could discern the wicked from the righteous. Unlike many he dealt with in the field and CIA, Ames, himself, engaged in what would be viewed as “moral behavior’; some might say he was boring. He rarely drank and avoided the distractions of the most intriguing and lively locales. This contrast with colleagues and foreign contacts is made apparent in The Good Spy, but its discussion does not come off as an exercise in moralism.

The Good Spy can be read at many levels. For example, it is a history of CIA activities in the Middle East in the 1960s and 1970s. It can be viewed as an enhanced history of US diplomacy and the often mangled process of communication during that tempestuous period in the Middle East. It also can identified as a history that sheds clear and revealing light on the nature of US relations with Arab States. Indeed, The Good Spy contributes to the record of the US experience in the Middle East, but dozens of books have already been written on that topic. What makes The Good Spy most exciting is the story of the man, Robert Ames.

Bird shows that there were indications of Ames’ potential as an intelligence officer even from his earliest years. However, Bird also deftly shows how his interactions with certain individuals were significant enough to help Ames hone his capabilities and allow him to become something that he might not have been without them. Often those having such an influence on him were extremely impressive individuals in their own right. They availed Ames with treasure troves of knowledge and experience from which to learn. In addition to mentioning Ames was raised in the working-class Roxborough neighborhood of Philadelphia, Ames and his two sisters, spent summer months on the New Jersey shore with their maternal grandparents, who made certain they knew their family history and that the children, themselves, were a part of that history. The children knew who they were and had a strong self-image. Their grandparents were Catholic just as their mother. Although their father was Methodist, they likely provided some spiritual grounding through Catholicism, too. There was a challenge to that self-image for Ames came after he joined the varsity basketball team at La Salle College along with his friend, Tommy Gola. In high school, Ames was a great player, and a tremendous athlete. He worked hard at perfecting his skills, and became his high school team’s leading scorer, but at La Salle, Ames never made the starting line-up. Meanwhile his friend Gola became the team’s star. The young Ames never reacted negatively. He took the situation with good humor, putting a good face on it. Nonetheless, skilled, ambitious, and competitive, the situation was very difficult. Playing basketball was important to Ames. He was proud to be on the 1954 NCAA Basketball Champion varsity team. The coach at La Salle could see that Ames deep down was disappointed, but he would not change the situation. For Ames, showing humility in such an unfavorable situation, made him more mature, stronger. Ames learned first-hand what it was like to be blocked from making full use of one’s capabilities. He knew what it was like to be the underdog. Ames also knew what it was like to not have the ear of anyone who could change his situation for the better. From this experience, Ames was able to be authentically sympathetic to others in the world who felt they were in a similar position.

Through his studies at La Salle, Ames sought to answer questions he had about the world. The school was run by the Christian Brothers. Ames was always open to new things, making him child-like to some degree, but not childish. He majored in sociology, and enhanced his course of study with classes in psychology, philosophy, as well as prelaw. Ames believed studying prelaw would help him secure a position as a Federal Bureau of Investigation special agent. That was all put on hold when Ames was inducted into the military after college. He was assigned to the US Army Middle East Signals Communications Agency’s base at Kagnew Station in Ethiopia in 1956. From the base, the US intercepted the military and diplomatic communications of Egypt and other Arab states. Ames worked in a supply company that kept track of spare parts for transmitters and receivers. It was an introduction to the world of Intelligence for Ames. Moreover, it was an introduction to Catholicism and the Middle East. On the way to Kagnew, on stopovers in Tripoli, Libya and Dhahran, Saudi Arabia, he heard Arabic for the first time. Ames was struck by what he saw. As would be the norm, Ames did not frolic with his comrades in arms in the nearby town of Asmara. He exercised with weights, studied about the Middle East, religion, and learned Arabic. He spent enough time with the Catholic chaplain on base to choose to convert to Catholicism. He went on trips to the Holy Land, visiting the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and the Dome of the Rock and walking through the Old City. He also visited Cairo, Egypt, and toured the Great Pyramids at Giza. Ames experiences compelled him to learn more about the Middle East and to study Arabic. After serving over two years in the Army, Ames let his parent know that as a career goal, he wanted to see the world and tried to enter the US Foreign Service but he failed to pass the examination. In the end, he settled on a career at CIA which hired him in 1960.

During the same year, Ames married Yvonne Blakely, the beautiful daughter of a Lutheran pastor and former career naval officer. That led to his excommunication from the Catholic Church. His love for her was that strong. However, the Catholic Church was truly an important part of who Ames’ identity, and he arranged for his return to it. After completing his training in 1962, Ames was selected for service in the Near East Division of the Directorate of Plans—known today as the National Clandestine Service. Ames did not join CIA just to return to the Middle East. Ames also did not join CIA to engage in development work. Indeed, CIA was not then, and is not now, a humanitarian aid or charitable organization. Yet, when given the chance to work for the Agency, Ames apparently made the calculation that he could go to the Middle East, and make life better for the people in the region while ultimately serving US interests.

Ames first posting was to Dhahran, Saudi Arabia where he received encouragement from his boss, James Critchfield. Critchfield was a veteran of the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), the precursor of the CIA in World War II, and was known as an Agency “Baron” from the action oriented era of the 1950s. Yet, despite having that reputation, Critchfield wanted to end the cowboy culture and bring a greater degree of knowledge and sophistication to the Agency’s activities in the region. That included going back to basics of recruiting spies.

During his training Ames was taught how to recruit by the manual. Bird describes it as a subtle exercise in peeling away an individual’s loyalties and transferring them from one cause to another. Bird notes that recruitment happens rarely. It usually occurs when the recruiters can make it seem only natural and fitting that the target should be talking to the case officer. Invariably, according to Bird, the recruited spies want to be recruited. Most spies are walk-ins, meaning they volunteer to serve in some fashion. Otherwise a genuine recruitment happens through a long intellectual seduction. The case officer shows empathy and shares his heartfelt views of his target.   He invites him or her to dinner and eventually offers something, even innocuous material rewards. When the opportunity presents itself, the case officer asked the target to sign on as a knowing agent with a written agreement. While the recruitment of sources would place a feather in the war bonnets of case officers, Ames would rather establish a relationship that could result in reliable source of accurate information that might be actionable.

Bird mentions that early on Ames caught the attention of Richard Helms, an OSS operations veteran. Helms was promoted to deputy director of Plans as a result of the Bay of Pigs fiasco. Helms believed the clandestine collection of secret intelligence by case officers was an important task and risky covert operations interfered with that work around the world. New means such as U-2 spy planes and the electronic surveillance of communications were being touted by some the wave of the future and replacements for the spy. When in contact with Ames, Helms impressed the need for human intelligence upon him. Helms, who would eventually become CIA director, thought very highly of Ames and supported his progress at CIA.

While Ames preferred to avoid the US corporate employees working in Dhahran, he managed to befriend Richard Metz, a veteran of both the OSS and the CIA. Metz and Ames would talk at length. Metz tutored Ames on the intricacies of tribal politics and helped Ames navigate in the region. He made Ames better able to work with the members of the royal family. Ames discovered that his efforts to learn about the region would pay off, together with being 6’3” handsome, being personable, and speaking fluent Arabic, Ames quickly gained a reputation wherever he went as being an American with whom one could talk. Metz showed Ames the invaluable skill of having fruitful conversations to strengthen connections with the Arabs in particular. Metz’s advice, along with his own experiences in Saudi Arabia, reinforced Ames view that good friendships with key players, and well as merchants in the suq and maintaining a positive reputation would be key to development of potential sources and contacts and the development and performance of his tradecraft in the region. Ames was always learning, and never became a victim of pride. He never indicated any sense of knowing it all.

An intriguing consideration about Ames’ approach to the people of the Middle East was the fact that at the same time when he was creating deep meaningful connections with Arabs he met in the 1960s, within his own country, there was significant racial discord. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was leading a Civil Rights Movement, supported by Freedom Riders, and thousands of volunteers for marches and sit-ins, who struggled for an end the racial segregation and equal rights for all US citizens. There were no efforts made toward multiculturalism and diversity within CIA at that time. In CIA, Ames was one of the few special individuals who were not simply tolerant of various racial, ethnic, and religious groups. He truly respected the people he encountered in the Middle East. It was very apparent. Ames often heard colleagues overseas use derogatory terms while discussing the Arabs. Bird writes that Ames was disappointed. even discouraged when he heard some of his managers express very intolerant, and indeed, racist views of the same people whose friendship he valued and the company in which he truly appreciated being.

There were two contacts that Ames developed which received considerable attention from Bird. Through the story of those contacts, Bird shed valuable light on the nature of Ames’ utilization of friends to collect vital information. One was Mustafa Zein, a young Shi’a Muslim, and successful business consultant to US and local firms, well-connected through the region, residing in Beirut. Zein was born in to some means and was educated not only in US schools in Beirut, but lived as an exchange student in Naperville, Illinois and graduated from the town’s North Central College run by the United Methodist Church. He had also been involved with the Organization of Arab Students. After Zein’s organization came in contact with the National Student Association, a organization funded by the CIA to help spot individuals for potential recruitment, Ames was eventually instructed to meet him. Ames scoured Zein’s file but knew understanding him in the abstract would not be as valuable actually interacting with him. Another CIA case officer in Dhahran set the meeting in motion by telling Zein to look up Ames the next time he was in Beirut. When they met in late 1969, Ames complimented Zein on being able to work with powerful figures. Zein expressed concerns about the US policy, the resulting Soviet progress in the region, and the plight of the Palestinians, and Ames listened closely. Ames thought Zein was ideal for recruitment, but Zein wanted no part of that. He did want to help, but, informally, in his own way. When he next saw Ames, Zein agreed to do things to advance relations between the US and the Arab people, but not for money. Zein also asked Ames that they pledge to be truthful to each other. For Ames, working with Zein professionally meant having an access agent, who could help spot and recruit other spies. However, Zein was much more than that for Ames. In addition to meeting intelligence requirements from headquarters, Zein’s knowledge of people and events, helping Ames keep a finger on the region’s pulse and support his continued learning process. Zein would introduce Ames to his second most important contact, Ali Hassan Salameh.

Salameh, a friend of Zein, was a member of Fatah’s Revolutionary Council, allowing him the ear of PLO Chairman Yasser Arafat, and leader in Fatah’s Revolutionary Security Apparatus which he was nurturing into a rudimentary intelligence bureau for the PLO, later called Force 17. Salameh was quite cosmopolitan and living the lifestyle of a playboy, breaking many mores of the Arab World. Ames claimed that he was given instructions from US President Richard Nixon to create a line of communication to the PLO. He had Zein introduce him to Salameh. Ames believed the PLO should be encouraged to transform into a real political party, and wanted to support that effort. Salameh saw some benefit having an important channel to the US. Ames and Salameh, complete opposites, became friends. Professionally, each would be the most significant person in the others life. Salameh was an incredible source of information and insight for Ames. However, soon enough, Ames managers wanted to recruit Salameh, not to collect information, but to use him as a means to gain control of the PLO’s activities. Ames wanted no part of it. CIA sent another field agent to meet Salameh in Rome, using Zein’s help. The agent’s recruitment pitch made to Salameh was for him “to coordinate activities with your organization with our organization,” for $300,000 a month. In a meeting with the agent the next day, Zein, rejected the offer on behalf of Salameh who was present, in a unique way. He stated Salameh would accept his terms “to finance the PLO to the tune of $35 million a year—and recognize the PLO.” Zein also explained to the field agent that “He’s [Salameh] already sent a coded message to Arafat. The Chairman is very pleased.” The field agent hastily left the meeting place, and blamed Salameh for the failed recruitment pitch. The effort evoked negative responses from Zein and Salameh. They were insulted by it. Ames eventually managed to patch things up with both. A line of communication between CIA and the PLO was created through Salameh. It survived the years of chaos and conflict in the 1970s Middle East. Salameh would die violently in the region in 1979.

Before hearing of this book, many may have been completely unaware of Ames. Reading it, they will learn of his amazing life and his considerable achievements. They will also discover how much Ames valued others and his value to humanity. He lost his life in the Middle East, a land which to him was a great treasure. A man of integrity, Ames had a strong moral center, an abundance of goodwill, and always the best intentions. He made the best impression possible of himself and his country with everyone he met.

There is much, much more about Ames in this exciting book. Readers of greatcharlie.com are likely working through their summer reading lists. Hopefully, they will be able work The Good Spy in among their selections. Without using distortion or exaggeration, it is a book that will take the reader on a journey through the Middle East and halls of power in Washington, DC. It is a story of intrigue and excitement as much as humility and honor. It discusses people and ideas that have moved events forward which is an emphasis of greatcharlie.com’s commentaries. Without reservation, greatcharlie.com highly recommends The Good Spy to all.

By Mark Edmond Clark

Book Review: Raymond Batvinis, Hoover’s Secret War Against Axis Spies: FBI Counterespionage During World War II (University Press of Kansas, 2014)

In 2010, US counterintelligence and counterespionage efforts resulted in the take down of 10 Russian “sleeper agents” from the “S” Department of the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service (SVR). As Raymond Batvinis discusses in Hoover’s Secret War Against Axis Spies, the foundation of present US counterintelligence capabilities was laid 70 years before.

Outstanding spy novels tell exciting tales of spy rings, secret and double agents, surveillance, codes and ciphers, wiretaps, microdots, deception, disinformation, and even use of invisible ink!  That is what a reader would expect from the works of John le Carré, Frederick Forsyth, Robert Ludlum, or Tom Clancy.  In Hoover’s Secret War Against the Axis: FBI Counterespionage During World War II (University Press of Kansas, 2014), Raymond Batvinis recounts equally thrilling stories of international intrigue as the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), working alongside other US government elements and allies, sought to overcome Germany’s efforts to disrupt and defeat its war effort in the US before and during the war.  They will transfix the reader to the book’s pages much as the writings of the great spy novelists.  However, unlike the novelists’ works, Batvinis’ accounts are not amusements, but discussions of real cases of a struggle between adversaries filled with lessons on counter-intelligence (spycatching) as well as counterespionage (turning enemy agents against their spymasters).  The stories present the thought provoking, sometimes absurd, and often horrifying realities of spycatching and turning spies into double-agents. The history is not presented as nostalgia, but as a text on a unique aspect of the intelligence war against Germany, and to a lesser extent, Japan, from which valuable lessons can be drawn.  It is not by chance Batvinis’ book would be presented in this fashion.  The work is a product of painstaking, detail oriented research, and the benefit of his experience as a former FBI special agent.

Indeed, during his 25 years as an FBI special agent, Batvinis focused on counterintelligence and counterespionage cases.  His assignments included work out of the Washington Field Office and the FBI Intelligence Division’s Training Unit at FBI Headquaters.  As a Supervisory Special Agent, in the Baltimore Division, Batvinis managed the espionage investigations of Ronald Pelton (a spy for the Soviet Union), John Walker and Michael Walker (spies for the Soviet Union), Thomas Dolce (a spy for South Africa), and Daniel Richardson (caught attempting to spy for the Soviet Union).  After the al-Qaeda attacks of September 11, 2001, Batvinis came out of retirement and returned to the FBI for three years in order to manage a team of former FBI special agents and Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) case officers who taught the Basic Counterintelligence Course at the FBI Academy.  With a continued desire to contribute to US national security efforts, Batvinis went on to teach a “Lessons Learned” course for counterintelligence personnel at FBI field offices throughout the US for two years.  Exploiting his doctoral studies in American History, Batvinis has lectured at George Washington University and has written several articles on counterintelligence.  Prior to writing Hoover’s Secret War Against Axis Spies, he published The Origins of FBI Counterintelligence (University Press of Kansas, 2007).

Hoover’s Secret War Against Axis Spies was designed to pick up where The Origins of FBI Counterintelligence finished.  Origins was an in-depth look at the FBI’s development in the 1930s from a small law enforcement organization to a counterespionage service.  The need for change was made stark in 1938 with the bungled handling of the long-running investigation of the Guenther Rumrich espionage ring.  A series of missteps allowed dozens of German agents from Abwehr (German military intelligence) to step out of the US and reach Europe safely.  The Interdepartmental Information Conference in 1939 brought all elements of the burgeoning US intelligence community together for the first time, to discuss creating a structure to handle the espionage threat to the US.  Rather than fight like a sack of wildcats, new linkages were created between the FBI and the US military, and partnerships were established with foreign services such as the Royal Canadian Mounted Police as well as Mexican and British intelligence officials.  The FBI’s General Intelligence Division was established to manage foreign counterintelligence and other intelligence investigations.  In 1940, US President Franklin Roosevelt signed a Presidential order allowing FBI director, J. Edgar Hoover, to begin wiretapping embassies and consulates.  The Rumrich failure, the new initiatives, and FBI’s education in managing the intricate details of counterespionage matters resulted in the surprise arrest of 33 German agents in 1941, effectively breaking the back of German military intelligence in the US.

Although the Special Intelligence Service (SIS) of the FBI (whose evolution and expansion into Europe, Latin America and Africa Batvinis discusses), was already engaged in foreign intelligence in the prewar years, in 1941 Roosevelt created a new foreign intelligence office under a Coordinator of Information (COI).  By the end of the year, COI’s director, William Donovan, managed 600 personnel.  Hoover and Donovan had a mutual dislike of each other that was over nearly 20 years old.  Hoover sensed the COI as an effort by Donovan to supplant SIS, and as both viewed the Oval Office as their turf.  Their poor relationship hampered coordination between their services. In 1942, the COI transformed from a civilian agency to a military intelligence service known as the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), the precursor of the Central Intelligence Agency

In extending his discussion beyond The Origins of FBI Counterintelligence , Batvinis relates the story of how William Stephenson of British Security Coordination (BSC), the center of MI6 (British Secret Intelligence Service) operations in the US, ran afoul of Hoover. Hoover railed on Stephenson for what he viewed as BSC’s rumor mongering and mischief.  Without spoiling this amazing segment of the book, it is enough to say MI6 personnel and MI5 (British Security Service) personnel also had a shaky relationship. Hoover skillfully managed to bypass MI6 and its BSC in the US to reach MI5 in London.  As result, the FBI gained access to Ultra, the British code name for its capability to intercept and decipher encoded German communications from the Enigma system.

Batvinis is at his best in Hoover’s Secret War Against Axis Spies in his discussion of the Double Cross System.  Although known historically as a British success during the war, Batvinis explains that achievements through Double Cross were the result of joint Allied efforts.  That includes the handling of the double-agent, Spanish pacifist Juan Pujol—codenamed “Garbo”—who deceived the Germans into believing the Normandy invasion would not occur, and then convinced them that the June 6, 1944 D-Day landings were a mere diversion for a larger invasion soon to come.  Double Cross began to make use of US based turned German agents after the British, with some difficulty, convinced the US there was great value in counterespionage work.  The very persuasive Ewen Montagu, from Bletchley Park, home of the Ultra secret, was brought into the fray to bring Hoover. Hoover and the FBI hoped through counterespionage, further control could be gained over German intelligence activities.

Among the several Double Cross counterespionage cases Batvinis discusses are that of: a flamboyant playboy who was also a central figure in the dispute between Hoover and Stephenson; a world renown French flyer, who had orders to infiltrate the US aircraft industry; and a lecherous Dutchman, who was deemed useless as an agent and whose activities in the US were fabricated for his spymasters while he remained bottled up in London.  Batvinis takes the reader to school, brilliantly teaching about the fundamental nature and “nuts and bolts” of counterintelligence and counterespionage in a manner understandable for both the intelligence and law enforcement professional and the laity right in the midst of his exhilarating storytelling.  To help readers understand the type of enemy the FBI faced, Batvinis explains how Germany acquired the often involuntary service from German expatriates as agents and their very capable and somewhat ingenious handling of them.  In Chapter 11 entitled “The Count from New York,” Batvinis discusses the case of Wilhelm Rautter, a scion of German aristocracy, who was recruited into the German military intelligence without choice, and tacit threat to his well-being and that of his family and property.  As Batvinis magnificently recounts, Rautter, searching for employment, was invited to interview at Remy and Company, by its owner Hans Blum. After a month at the company, during which he established a very cordial relationship with the owner, Rautter was abruptly interrupted in the midst of perfunctory business chatter when Blum said, “German military intelligence had investigated him, found him acceptable, and wished to use him for collecting information in the United States.”  Blum downplayed the request in a friendly, soft-spoken and reassuring, but subtly betraying a sinister, threatening tone indicating that he would not accept “no” for an answer.

Almost immediately, Rautter began training at Blum’s company’s in secret writing, radio construction, transmitting, receiving, coding, and decoding cabled messages using a standard work of fiction.  He was directed to recruit an experienced operator to handle transmissions once he reached New York City.  Rautter was given the address of a mail drop on Manhattan’s Upper Westside, and rented an apartment in Brooklyn near the famous Brooklyn Navy Yard. He was provided a contact, Heinrich Stuhl, whose home, also in Brooklyn, offered easy observation of Brooklyn and Manhattan piers where merchant ships routinely lined up to load cargo bound for Great Britain.  Rautter was given a catalogue of requirements to monitor shipping bound for Europe by riding the Brooklyn-Staten Island ferry.  He would use Blum’s business contacts to travel throughout the East coast of the US, to observe factory facilities of US Steel, Remington Arms Corporation, and twelve leading aircraft companies such as the Douglas and Boeing companies.  He also was directed to pick up intelligence in local bars and restaurants about troop strength, unit designations, military equipment, and specifics on armament production.  To evade capture, Rautter would vary the means of communication with Germany.  The unexpected collapse of the FBI’s capability to intercept radio transmissions also managed to temporarily thwart its counterintelligence effort.  Nevertheless, in 1944, Rautter was identified and waylaid by the US government as the outcome of some incredible investigative work by the FBI, along with the US Customs Service, comparing German handwriting samples with tens of thousands of baggage declarations of travelers going to Europe and British censors on Bermuda, sifting through mail to Europe.

To understand how the FBI handlers engaged in counterespionage operations against Germany, Batvinis illustrated how they concerned themselves with things that the average person might very well assume was minutiae or too esoteric, to matter.  Among the tactics, techniques, and procedures used, the FBI would first closely watch a German agent to determine his susceptibility for neutralization and recruitment before intercepting him.  Particular attention would be placed on his movements and behavior patterns.  The target’s mail and cable traffic would be copied and read, his contacts were identified, and his accommodations would be searched.  Once the turned agent was activated by the FBI, his reports to Germany were designed to match his trained capabilities and the degree of the agent’s access to information.  For example, if stationed in New York City, an agent from the marine branch of German intelligence would be expected to easily identify all types of Allied ships from specific combat vessels to cargo ships and tankers entering and departing the port.  Allowing a turned agent to remain positioned near a port or shipyard might require the FBI to sacrifice too much vital information about US activities, to legitimize his efforts, in exchange for a tentative counterintelligence reward. Moreover, the US Navy would never clear information on the departure of such convoys, and it would be difficult for a double-agent to explain the failure to collect such information to his intelligence principals in Germany.  The counterespionage agent would need to be placed in a plausible new post, such as Washington, which would allow for a mixture of valuable information, rumors, and other pieces of information picked up from soldiers and sailors in local bars and from senior military and military officials on the Washington cocktail party circuit.  A persona had to be established for counterespionage agents that would typically present them as being fiercely loyal and well-placed, making the most of access to important military secrets, but greatly concerned about being discovered by the FBI.  In one case, a counterespionage agent’s persona was spiced up with emphasis on his struggle with communications equipment and transmission problems, coupled with encoding and decoding errors.  When transmitting messages for a turned German agent, a painstaking effort would be put into mimicking his distinctive transmission style through the study of recordings.

In Chapter 13, entitled, “Peasant,” Batvinis explains that one case, to copy the style of a very inexperienced radio operator, his FBI substitute filled his messages with errors common to amateurs.  Further, by using his left hand, with the radio key placed on the edge of a table so that the hand and arm had no support, the technician found that he could easily produce scores of unintentional and intentional errors.  The FBI categorized messages from counterespionage agents to Germany as “A” or “B.” “A” messages held a blend of accurate and fabricated information, created by Joint Security Control (JSC) of the Military Intelligence Division, established in 1941.  JSC had a central deception staff to its portfolio of both the Army and the Navy to plan measures for disguising or concealing an operation against the enemy that would encourage enemy action on a belief that something true was actually false. “B” messages, developed by FBI special agents of the Washington Field Office from open sources were sent in the form of suggested messages with the actual source of information actually identified.  All “A” and “B” messages were first discussed with translators of the FBI’s Cryptanalytic Section, which helped assure that German intelligence service radio operators made no mistake in deciphering the information.  The reader will find many more comparable lessons in Batvinis’ book.

There is some discussion of FBI efforts against Japan.  One segment concerns German efforts to gather and transmit important information on B-29 bomber manufacturing, other war production relevant to the Pacific Theater of Operations, the increase in conscription in the US in 1945, and war plans.  The extent to which the FBI tried put Double Cross measures in play against the Japanese is discussed in Chapter 12 entitled “Japs, Aspirin, and Pep.”  Although Batvinis relays how the FBI had little success in positioning double agents among Japanese targets, he also uses this aspect of the history of US counterintelligence and counterespionage in World War II to explain how best to manage an effort when “That dog don’t hunt.”

Organizing the US counterintelligence effort was not based on a vain desire by the FBI to take on a new capability on top of its well-known criminal investigation work.  There was no other service fully engaged in counterintelligence work, and as the war drew close to the US, it became an absolute necessity.  There was no guarantee of success. The German intelligence service, and the various departments of German military intelligence were up and running full speed with well-trained and very capable agents spreading out worldwide.  Nevertheless, it was anticipated that through the right organization, appropriate preparation, and diligent work, as well as engagement with allies, the effort would be effective and possibilities for success would increase.  The FBI learned quickly that the fight against Germany was not taking place in some “war over yonder” but already underway in US.  Despite the difficulties the FBI had with the OSS, and its counterparts in Britain, those obstacles were overcome, and it was able to protect the US public and US interests from harm.

There is a breath-taking amount of amazing information on counterintelligence and counterespionage to learn from Hoover’s Secret War Against Axis Spies.  There is also much to that can be learned from the history it provides on US relations with Great Britain and other nations on national security issues. Batvinis’ book is also a real page turner, and one that will be difficult to pull away from.  Without reservations, greatcharlie.com provides its highest recommendation to Hoover’s Secret War Against Axis Spies to its readers. They are guaranteed to read at it over and over again.  Given the timeless value of its information, for some practicioners, it may even serve as a reference.  It is a book everyone will appreciate.

By Mark Edmond Clark