Great Spies of the 20th Century

by Patrick Pesnot

  The first important connection he made was with a young Syrian called Kemal, the son the Arab journalist he had met in Argentina, who had actually helped him to find his apartment. Kemal was a well-connected young man who was used to mixing in the best circles in the Syrian capital. Thanks to him, Cohen quickly built up an excellent address book, always under the guise of his import/export business. He told everyone he met that he intended to export Syrian furniture and handicrafts, which he later did. Once again because of Kemal and his connections, Cohen met a young lieutenant called Maazi (the nephew of the Syrian Army's Chief of Staff) and the two quickly became friends. Cohen was very much a people person and was undoubtedly well-liked. Only at night, when he was alone in his apartment sending messages to Tel Aviv, did he become Eli Cohen.

  Lieutenant Maazi was naturally an important contact. One can learn a great deal from a simple, yet well-directed, conversation, and with Maazi, Cohen could accomplish many things.

  Ben Porat and Uri Dan63

  In his first weeks in Damascus, he had already met a number of manufacturers and traders whose products he offered to export to Europe, and particularly Munich. These included artisan tables, which were generally used as gaming tables and were part of the natural decor in most Syrian and Lebanese cafes and restaurants. He also discovered different types of Syrian objets d’art, old and new jewellery and various leather objects, all of which, in his opinion, were capable of being sold in Europe. The spy was careful to explain to traders that he was connected with a large import company in Europe, whose headquarters were in Munich and Zurich, which would allow him to export the art objects and folk tables that were very popular in Europe. These negotiations involved him corresponding with the main agent of the company, who was none other than his primary contact: his friend, Salinger.64

  The friendship between Cohen and Lieutenant Maazi became so strong that the Israeli spy managed to convince his friend to take him on a tour of the border around the Golan. The visit was of particular interest to Cohen, not only because he could provide Tel Aviv with precise locations of the Syrian Army's defensive positions, but it would also enable him to look at their work to potentially divert the water supply from the plateau's rivers.

  This river diversion project had also been helped by Soviet experts: the outline of the canal had been marked out and the first bulldozers had already begun digging. The plan was that one of the rivers that fed into the Sea of Galilee would instead be diverted to the Yarmouk River, in Jordan. The Israelis had done all they could to delay the work, and had occupied the Golan immediately after the end of the Six Day War. The conquest of this strategic plateau had been a major objective for them, primarily because of its water source.

  Cohen therefore managed to accomplish something quite special on his visit to the border with his friend Maazi. As the lieutenant was the nephew of the Army Chief of Staff, they had no difficulty accessing the military installations. But Cohen was not just going to stop there and for many months had been widening his friendship circles. It was made even easier by the return to Syria of General al-Hafiz, who was made President in 1963.

  Cohen immediately re-established contact with him and gradually became an important character is Damascan polite society. You might see him at ministry meetings, attending press conferences, hosting receptions etc. In short, he had created a lifestyle and populated it with two men who would become his chief informants. One of these was Seif Georges, a top civil servant at the Ministry of Information. The other was Colonel Hatoum, an elite unit commander in the Syrian Army. Cohen's relationship with these two men would be very shrewd and perhaps even a little perverse.

  Both men had mistresses. However, in Damascus, extra-marital affairs had to remain confidential. In an act of friendship, Cohen suggested that they use his flat to meet their girlfriends and did not hesitate to provide them with a set of keys to the apartment. He was playing a dangerous game: his transmitter was hidden there, after all. Yet when the two men went to the apartment, they had other things on their mind than rummaging through his belongings!

  Regardless of this, Cohen was taking a great risk. As he became increasingly confident, he began to neglect his safety, which was to end up costing him dear. In the meantime, however, his suggestion was a master-stroke and neither of the two men refused his offer. Cohen event went further, suggesting that he invite the two men over to spend an evening or two with other pretty girls. Israel has always claimed that Cohen played no direct involvement in these parties, understandably not wanting to dent the image of their hero. Cohen was married with children and was a practising Jew. Whatever his attitude to the parties themselves, the Israeli spy sent back vital information to Mossad and his effectiveness was outstanding.

  On three occasions, under the pretext of travelling to Switzerland on business, Cohen was able to make brief stops in Israel. During these stays, as well as being debriefed by his bosses, Cohen was also allowed to see his wife and children. His last visit was in November 1964, when both his family and his superiors remarked how exhausted he looked. He was certainly tired and would no doubt have much preferred to end his mission and remain in Israel. He was aware that he could be unmasked at any time and that his situation was becoming increasingly dangerous.

  Would his superiors in Mossad have understood? They could not ignore the fact that given Cohen's low morale and the longevity of his mission, there was a high probability that he might be arrested. The more time that passed the greater the chance of the Syrian intelligence agencies intercepting Cohen's secret messages. Yet the information he was gathering was so important that Mossad could hardly just give up. They were tempted to exploit Cohen's services right to the end, even if they eventually lost. There was little time for sentiment.

  However, we must also question whether or not Cohen's destiny had already been planned and the consequences of such an event happening: the sudden revelation that the Syrian government, army and intelligence agencies had been infiltrated by the Israelis would only induce panic.What if there were other spies as well? In short, it could lead to the beginning of a wave of espionage mania, where everyone would suspect everything and the entire Syrian governmental system would break down.

  In truth, this is what did happen after Cohen was captured. Hundreds of people were arrested, with some being tried and sentenced to death. The simple fact of having crossed Cohen's path at some point was enough to make you a suspect. So the question remains this: did Mossad have it all planned and were prepared to abandon Cohen completely, once his mission was completed? At the time everyone knew that sooner or later a new war would break out within the Arab countries. In such a case, what is one man's life worth? On his return to Damascus, Cohen went into a frenzy, sending message after message every day and always at the same time. Although he was taking the risk of being discovered, his superiors at Mossad could have advised him to take more care. But they did not and his capture was inevitable.

  In January 1965, the Syrians, backed up by Soviet experts, used special equipment to locate the exact place where Cohen had hidden his transmitter. They broke down the door to his apartment and stormed in, just as he was about to send another message. There was nothing he could do and the Syrians immediately tried to send a false message back to Tel Aviv. However, the special ‘signature', unique to each operator naturally betrayed them and Mossad quickly realised that their agent in Damascus had fallen into Syrian hands.

  Eli Cohen was put on trial, but the verdict was a foregone conclusion. The sentence could only be death. Even the two French lawyers who were supposed to defend him were not allowed to attend the trial! Cohen was said to have displayed immense courage and had admitted nothing, even under torture. He simply stated that he was a soldier of the Nation of Israel.

  Dan Raviv and Yossi Melman65

  If Cohen (and his superiors) had been more careful, he could have saved his life. In November 1964 he was on leave in Israel to attend the birth of his third child. Cohen had hinted
to Mossad that he hoped, after four years abroad, that he would be able to retire to a more relaxed life. He also explained that he was afraid of Colonel Ahmed Suedani, the head of Syrian Army Intelligence. Unfortunately, Mossad paid no attention. Tensions on the border were escalating and the possibility of war seemed increasingly serious. It was vital for them to have someone in Damascus, so they persuaded Cohen to resume his post as soon as possible.

  Roger Faligot and Remi Kauffler66

  Nadia Cohen found her husband on the edge that last time she saw him in November/ October 1964. His superiors were about to send him to his death. His trial began on 28 February [1965] and Eli Cohen was hanged in a public square on 17 May. Everyone, even his enemies, agreed that he died bravely. In Israel, he was celebrated as a hero for his sacrifice. In Syria meanwhile, his arrest and trial resulted in a chronic wave of mistrust, re-enforcing the tendency to harden the regime: if Kamel Thaabet had been a Mossad agent, then anyone could be. In this respect, the legacy of Cohen's case was particularly long-lasting. Even today, Nadia Cohen still criticizes the Mossad chiefs, who according to her, should not have sent an agent on a mission who was ‘on the border of collapse'.

  Chapter 12

  Blackmailed by a false Resistor

  It has been a taboo subject for a long time: you must not touch the Resistance! To attack one of its members was to question the courage and honour of all involved.Worse still, it is difficult to break the myth of a France that completely resisted the Occupation when we know today that the majority of the French people, rather than be entirely pro-Vichy or against, preferred instead to wait. This does not, of course, demerit those who did have the lucidity - or the audacity - to chose the right camp and be anti-Nazism.

  As the country began to be liberated, it was important to line up as quickly as possible on the winning side. One could easily imagine the future that would belong to those who could prove they had been in the resistance. There were those who joined up in the last hour and even right at the final moments; men who rushed to don the armband of the FFI67 on their jacket sleeve. Yet there was something far worse than this: the real false resistor. Men who in order to escape the law and their past, entered into the Resistance unopposed, manufacturing false service records, buying witnesses or even inventing imaginary networks. Collaborators one day and resistors the next, they consequently managed to slip through the net. For years they were untouchable, as the real men who were committed to defending France's honour had ensured that, like Caesar's wife, the Resistance could never be suspected. It was all at the risk of protecting the traitors who had fraudulently infiltrated the ranks.

  When the affair broke in the 1960s, Maurice Lorrain68 was a Prefect with an array of decorations. Just like Papon, at the Liberation he had managed to slip through the net. Before the war he had been a modest Deputy-prefect in the police. Not a particularly remarkable man, an officer like any other it was assumed that he would have an ordinary career and would in all probability rise through the ranks wisely enough. However, Lorrain was an extrovert who loved the good life, and was not afraid to elbow people out of his way. He was ambitious and had a high opinion of himself.

  When war broke out, he was working as the general secretary of a prefecture on an interim basis, but had been tenured by the end of 1940. He was in no way hostile towards Vichy and joined all those officials who were happy to obey Petain without question. In the prefecture, the ‘Jean Moulins' of the world would only cause trouble. Very quickly, however, Lorrain dared to go even further and established regular contacts with agents in the local Gestapo. This Deputy-prefect became an agent himself, and was registered as such by the German authorities.

  Naturally, Lorrain participated in the Nazi policy of repression against the Resistance. Yet cynically, and probably at the instigation of his German counterparts, he also approached a resistance network. This may have been as a way of covering both bases, although in those early years of the war, anything other than a complete German victory seemed unlikely. Still, the wind can always change direction...

  From now on, Lorrain was a double agent. However, he seemed to favour his German employer more, as by infiltrating the resistance network, he was able to send back valuable information about the organisation's plans. But soon he would no longer be able to choose who to favour: fate would decide for him.

  Lorrain was a victim of politics: there had always been a fierce rivalry between the Abwehr (the intelligence service headed by Admiral Canaris) and the Gestapo (the regime's secret police). The Abwehr had also sent an agent to infiltrate the same resistance network that Lorrain had joined and during the summer of 1943, the Abwehr agents had organised a roundup of resistors operating in the area where Lorrain worked as the prefecture secretary general. Consequently, he was arrested along with the ‘true' resistors in the network. He might well have been a Gestapo agent, but those working for the Abwehr did not want to know and were more concerned with protecting their own mole.

  Lorrain was arrested, tried, and received a relatively light sentence, which involved his deportation to Germany. Powerless to prevent his departure, the Gestapo did make some effort to help their agent: they included a special mention on his record stating that he was to be ‘treated with care, due to services rendered'. However, even with preferential treatment, deportation to places such as Dachau or Buchenwald remained a terrible ordeal.

  Paradoxically, by deporting Lorrain, the German's actually did him a big favour: when the Liberation came, the former Deputy-prefect was now a genuine resistance member. Who would think to accuse a man of treason who had just spent nearly three years in a concentration camp?

  On his return to France, Lorrain was welcomed back with honours and decorations, and was immediately reinstated in the police. He was, however, denounced by a woman who had been the former secretary and mistress of his handler in the Gestapo. Summoned before a judge, Lorrain had had time to prepare his defence: he admitted to having contacts with the Gestapo, but only on the orders of his leaders in the resistance network. He had been ordered to spy on the Germans, but if he had been ordered to spy, it was, in reality, on the orders of the Gestapo! The judge wasn't convinced and requested that the prosecution look more deeply into the case, not before it disappeared somewhere in the judicial minefield - Lorrain clearly had powerful friends.

  Jean Rochet69

  This incompetence was already scandalous enough and became even more so when, a few months after the Attorney General’s report was published, the Justice Minister agreed that this civil servant should be given a high-ranking position and receive the Legion d’Honneur. Since his return from Germany, it is true that he had tried to avoid the fate he deserved. He adhered to one of the major government policies of the time by claiming he had proof of another party member’s treason showing that they had collaborated with the Gestapo. As a result, our man finally received his accreditation as a resistance member.

  Now reinstated into the police, Maurice Lorrain had a very successful career. He went from one country town to another, but in his role he could expect a more important position than just the head of the local police department: high-ranking positions in the central government's departments, for example.

  In 1958, the year that General de Gaulle returned to power, the ambitious Lorrain decided to play the Gaullist card, and so went to see the minister. To help precipitate events, he took the relatively bold initiative of meeting with Chancellor Adenauer in Bonn. He introduced himself as one of General de Gaulle's aides and urged the chancellor to come to Paris as soon as possible to meet with the general and seal this dramatic rapprochement between the two countries. It was clear that Lorrain wanted to be seen as the architect of this new deal and therefore wanted to reap the full benefits.

  During his interview with Adenauer, Lorrain was keen to offer his services to the chancellor. He might have suggested that he had contacts in the East and proposed to the chancellor and his intelligence chief (the famous General Gehlen), that
he could even be a double agent! He was clearly ready to make use of any information that he might gather along the way.

  It was an extravagant proposal that can be explained by his situation: Lorrain had been walking a tightrope for years as a result of his past actions. Not only could he be denounced at any time, he was trapped by those who knew the truth about him. It must have been tempting to try and get through it by making a pact with another western power.

  Adenaeur did not come to Paris immediately, meaning Lorrain could not collect the fruits of his impudent ‘quest' and had to wait five years before receiving a prestigious German honour, at the personal request of Adenaeur.

  Contrary to his expectations, he did not become a minister, but continued to apply for other positions. For a time, he was even led to understand that he was to be appointed as the new head of the DST! Those at the top of the French intelligence agency were often police prefects, and given Lorrain's career, it was reasonable for him to believe that he might get the role. The only obstacle was his past, but only his bosses in the service knew about it. It was a cruel twist of history that the same service he now wanted to lead was the same one that had ended his career as a spy.

  At the end of the war, every allied intelligence agency had rushed to the Nazi archives. The Soviets were often the quickest and they had found the files showing that Lorrain had been registered as a Gestapo agent.This was perfect blackmail material: there was no possibility that Lorrain could refuse to work for them. It is likely that his new employers were behind the fact that Lorrain had managed to escape justice for so long. The KGB certainly was not without its own links to the Resistance, even among the Gaullists.

  Lorrain was an impatient man and loved to meet important people, politicians in particular. This made him a valuable informant: the Soviets had always been fond of gathering information on politicians. As a prefect, their agent naturally had no access to state secrets, yet by the end of his career he held a key post in the ministry and was responsible for defence matters. It was here that the KGB would finally be rewarded for the long years of manipulation. Lorrain was eventually unmasked because of his German links, which, despite or because of his role as a Soviet spy, he still maintained.