A Look Over My Shoulder

by Richard Helms

  In contrast to the State Department’s position, Ambassador Korry was steadfast. In a message to the department he said, in effect, an Allende electoral victory would be the first incidence of a heretofore democratic country voting to place itself under communist rule. He predicted accurately that although an Allende government would initially act legally, it would use the excuse of defending itself against the United States (or as Allende expressed it, “public enemy number one”) to institute “profound changes” within Chile, and a foreign policy shackled to Cuba and the USSR.

  Here an observation on the presidency in the twenty-first century. Except for George Bush the elder, who served for some twelve months as director of Central Intelligence, no American president in a hundred years has had but a slight idea of how clandestine operations are conceived and run.* What presidents do know about secret intelligence seems most often to come from high-spirited movies, novels, press coverage, and, occasionally, bits of Washington “insider” gossip. Nothing wrong with that, except that none of it—and rarely any nonfiction—gives the slightest idea of the dreary routines and the vast amount of time involved in establishing a sound covert action or espionage operation.

  The importance of a minimum of such understanding is to be seen in what Nixon finally wanted—and expected—in Chile in the weeks before Allende was inaugurated. Nixon had no notion of the maneuvering and caution involved in secretly organizing and building cover for the operations he demanded, nor was he disposed to consider any of the pitfalls involved in attempting to establish this activity overnight. This reluctance to accept advice on secret operations appeared to have been poisoned by Nixon’s now-familiar preconceived attitudes. CIA was never really “on the team.” The Agency had failed at the Bay of Pigs. It had neither penetrated the government in Hanoi nor erased North Vietnamese activity in the South. If CIA could not succeed in any of these efforts, what use could it be? The too frequent response to estimates or data that did not fit policy assumptions was another reference to Sihanoukville.

  In keeping the Agency at arm’s length, and even though filtered through as competent a national security advisor as Henry Kissinger, Nixon denied himself the firsthand knowledge that I think is essential to any president. At the time Nixon took office, CIA had an extraordinary technical collection competence, an abundance of skilled intelligence analysts and research experts, a secret operational capability that was only occasionally matched by any opposing service, and an expanding mass of background and research data probably unique in history. Given the extent and depth of our overt and secret activity, I remain convinced that CIA’s failures—however painful—should be judged in comparison with the Agency’s overall performance. Alas, and no matter what level of competence any intelligence service might build, it is not likely to encompass walking on water.

  Some six weeks before the September election, the CIA Office of Current Intelligence (OCI) produced a blunt estimate—the race between Allende and Alessandri, the two strongest candidates, was a dead heat. Neither candidate could count on gaining a majority. This OCI document was followed by a National Intelligence Estimate, “The Outlook for Chile.” In sum: if elected, Allende would eventually create “a Chilean version of a Soviet style East European Communist state.” I agreed with the estimate, but doubted that it would take Allende as long as the projected two or three years to bring about a communist state.

  The election was indeed close. Allende won 36.3 percent of the ballots—actually a slight decline from his tally in the 1964 election. The runner-up, Alessandri, got 34.9 percent, and Tomic 27.8 percent. As predicted, the two democratic parties had knocked one another out of the ring, leaving a probable victory to Allende.

  As Ambassador Korry reported, “Chile voted calmly to have a Marxist-Leninist state, the first nation in the world to make this choice freely and knowingly.”* All this by a margin of some one percent of the vote.

  In Chile, if no candidate wins a majority, it becomes the responsibility of Congress to choose between the two candidates with the most popular votes. In the past, the Congress had always opted for the candidate with the largest electoral vote. The runoff decision was scheduled for October 24. This left the Agency with a few hours less than fifty days to achieve what might have been accomplished had we begun twelve months earlier.

  However long foreseen, the now probability of an Allende administration appalled Nixon. Henry Kissinger wasted no words in describing the President’s reaction to Allende’s victory—“Nixon was beside himself.”* And no matter what the evidence, in Nixon’s opinion CIA had again failed Nixon.

  Four days after the election, a grouchy 40 Committee met to consider likely strategies. I reported that the Chilean Congress would probably confirm Allende’s election, and suggested that once he was in office, his domestic political opponents would soon fold. Then, while attempting to make it clear that this was not a policy recommendation, I said that unless action was soon undertaken, there was little or no chance that even a military coup could succeed. Henry Kissinger and Attorney General John Mitchell both agreed with my position.

  On September 12, Ambassador Korry cabled the State Department that there was little chance that the Chilean military would move to keep Allende out of office. That day, I again advised the NSC that there was only a slight possibility that senior elements of the Chilean military would move against Allende. Moreover, I noted that the Agency lacked the means of motivating the military to intervene.

  Two days later, the 40 Committee met again. They directed the embassy and the Agency to intensify political and economic measures with propaganda making plain the painful consequences that would follow an Allende takeover. This was too little and too late. The $250,000 contingency fund also authorized by the 40 Committee was merely too late.

  The following afternoon, I was summoned to the Oval Office for a meeting with Nixon, Henry Kissinger, and John Mitchell. Armed with the pad and pencil I carried at every meeting, I sat in the chair to the right of the President’s desk. It was at this meeting that Nixon raised the stakes.

  As I testified to the Church Committee some years later, “the President came down very hard … he wanted something done, and he didn’t much care how and … was prepared to make money available.” The notes—now well publicized—that I hastily scribbled show Nixon’s directive was straight to the point.

  One 10 chance perhaps, but save Chile

  worth spending

  not concerned risks involved

  no involvement of Embassy

  $10,000,000 available, more if necessary

  full-time job—best men we have

  game plan

  make the economy scream

  48 hours for plan of action

  President Nixon also instructed us three to keep all knowledge of this directive from the secretary of state, the secretary of defense, Ambassador Korry, and the CIA chief in Chile. In my post-World War II career, this was the most restrictive security hold-down that I can remember.

  Without reminding Nixon that there would be no more than thirty-eight days from the time I got back to my own office to the moment Chile’s Congress would vote, I tried to give him some idea of the problems and risks involved. Standing mid-track and shouting at an oncoming locomotive might have been more effective than attempting to inject caution into this fifteen-minute White House session.

  Truman had lost China. Kennedy had lost Cuba. Nixon was not about to lose Chile.

  Henry Kissinger has pointed out, Nixon “was given to grandiloquent statements on which he did not insist once their implications became clear to him. The fear that unwary visitors would take the President literally was, indeed, one of the reasons why Haldeman controlled access to him so solicitously.”* This is well said and, of course, quite true. But I do not consider myself to have been an unwary or even casual recipient of instructions given by the President from behind his desk in the Oval Office. President Nixon had ordered me to instigate a military coup in Chile, a
heretofore democratic country. Moreover, the knowledge of this presidential directive was to be kept from the U.S. officials most directly concerned. Within CIA this directive was to be restricted to those with an absolute need to know. And I was to report to the President through Henry Kissinger.

  By what superior judgment was I to leave the White House and then decide that the President did not mean what he had just said? Nixon had eased himself along the corridors of power for more than two decades, time enough, one might think, for him to have some notion of the impact his direct orders would have upon his senior subordinates. I was quite capable of scrubbing the garnish of hyperbole from the core of the President’s instructions. I did not presume to have the authority to tamper with the President’s obvious intent.

  To my knowledge, Nixon did not inform anyone in Congress of his orders to me. My opinion is reinforced by the fact that the always reliable and ultra-discreet Senator Russell was seriously ill and, in effect, out of office at the time.

  Five years later, in the course of the publicity generated by Senator Frank Church’s hearings, the terms “Track I” and “Track II” emerged as shorthand references for the secret maneuvering to block Allende’s taking office. Track I encompassed all of the activity conducted under the responsibility of the 40 Committee. Track II covered only Nixon’s most secret decision to instigate a military coup, and to restrict the knowledge to Kissinger, Mitchell, and me. In Chile, although President Frei has denied it, the Track I covert political, economic, and propaganda activity was, to a degree, undertaken with his implicit knowledge. To my knowledge, Track II remained closely guarded until Senator Church began his hearings.

  A word about my crib notes taken at the Oval Office meeting. When I was retired from CIA, I left a few items which I considered classified, but personal and yet important enough to preserve in the custody of the Agency. The small packet was to be held in secure premises and under my name. Or so I thought. After his appointment as DCI, William Colby apparently did not feel the need to consult me on its disposition. While I was still in Tehran as ambassador, Colby handed the packet to the Church Committee for scrutiny and, incidentally, whatever political use Senator Church might make of the documents. I mention this as a caution to those who believe that the security of secret government operations can be kept indefinitely, or even for a reasonable time. Congress is composed of members who keep their mouths shut and those who do not. More specifically, there will always be those in Congress who think they have a constitutional—not to say God-granted—right, without consultation with anyone, to expose any operation or activity of which they do not approve. In context, Senator Fulbright’s threat comes to mind.

  To implement the instructions given me in the Oval Office, I summoned an early-morning meeting with Tom Karamessines and two of his senior staff. It was a bleak session; no one present thought there was any reasonable chance to keep Allende from the presidency. In the time remaining, we agreed that the only faint possibility of blocking Allende’s election was a military coup.

  In the days that followed, we renewed and intensified our contacts with those in Chile who might be in a position to inform us of any coup plotting. In late September, our Santiago office reported that there was no indication that either President Frei or the Chilean chief of staff, General Rene Schneider, appeared to be considering any action. In early October, however, General Roberto Viaux, who had been retired after an ill-conceived coup attempt in 1949, informed us that he was again constructing a “golpe”—coup in Spanish. Viaux was less than impressive—one of our operatives thought him a bit “far out”—but he seemed determined to take action.

  On the basis of the “do anything” directive, we continued to listen to Viaux, but refused his request for a sizeable airdrop of arms and ammunition. The notion that a group of senior army officers would need an airdrop of foreign arms to stage a coup was not an encouraging indication of Viaux’s potential. But to keep the pot on the fire, we advanced some funds, and a life insurance policy to protect Viaux’s family in the very likely event that things were to go wrong. After subsequent discussion, it became clear that Viaux’s plans were not likely to carry the day. Henry Kissinger agreed with our conviction.

  Coincidentally, another Chilean general was moved to action. He asked for tear gas and submachine guns. Although there seemed little possibility of this coup succeeding, three weapons were handed over. But before this group could act, a fragment of General Viaux’s original band of golpistas attempted to kidnap General Schneider. In defending himself, General Schneider was mortally wounded. At this point, the group that had been upstaged by the Viaux splinter group gave up planning its own coup and returned the three unused weapons.

  In sketching these developments, I realize that it must seem that Chile was the Agency’s only priority. As important as Chile was to U.S. responsibilities and interests in the Western Hemisphere, the problem was largely contained within that area. On a daily basis, Chile occupied less of my time—and perhaps less of Henry Kissinger’s concern—than, for example, the vast problems in Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos. In my position, the ongoing supervision of technical and human intelligence collection operations targeted on the USSR, Eastern Europe, Asia, and the Near East was relentlessly demanding.

  President-elect Allende was sworn into office on November 3, 1970, and soon began to implement his promises. U.S. policy returned to an appropriate level of “cool but correct” diplomatic, political, and economic relations with a country whose government was in almost every respect at odds with ours. In my remaining months in office, Allende continued his determined march to the left, but there was no further U.S. effort to instigate a coup in Chile.

  President Allende continued in office until September 11, 1973—some seven months after I had been replaced as DCI—when General Augusto Pinochet overthrew him and moved the Chilean government from the far left to the extreme right. In the course of the coup, Allende died—by accident or suicide—of a bullet wound. Chile was the loser at both ends of the political spectrum.

  There were, of course, lessons to be learned from this experience. It sometimes seems that the best way to identify the most important lessons to be learned is to count the number of times a lesson must be relearned. There are three lessons to be relearned in respect to Chile and Tracks I and II. If a major covert action is to be undertaken, ample time must be allotted for preparation; if any secret U.S. contact is made with an individual or group thought to be planning a coup or revolution, it will be all but impossible to convince the plotters that this contact does not indicate U.S. support; and, finally, unless the fate of the nation is at stake, an intelligence service should try to avoid being saddled with the command, “do something, for Heaven’s sake, do anything.” When such hasty operations begin to come unstuck, the highest authority is most likely to have forgotten its early command.

  *Quoted from Christopher Andrew, For the President’s Eyes Only (New York: HarperCollins, 1995), p. 350.

  †Stanley I. Kutler, Abuse of Power: The New Nixon Tapes (New York: Free Press, 1997), p. 477.

  *The 40 Committee was the National Security Council component that passed on covert action operations for the NSC. The committee was first known as the Special Group and later as the 303 Committee, each with the same responsibilities.

  †White House Years (Boston: Little, Brown, 1979), chap. 17.

  *As an accomplished general officer, President Eisenhower dealt extensively with the highest levels of intelligence product, but had had no reason to concern himself with the details and mechanisms of secret intelligence operations.

  *Kissinger, White House Years, p. 653.

  *Ibid., p. 671.

  *Ibid., p. 674.

  Chapter 39

  —

  HANDSHAKE AT CAMP DAVID

  My assumption that on Election Day 1972 the President and Henry Kissinger would be fully occupied offered an opportunity to invite General Al Haig for lunch. As Henry Kissinger’s deputy,
Al handled many of the nuts and bolts involved in the Agency’s daily contact with the Nixon White House. He was a near-perfect intermediary, with immediate answers to most questions, and never fudging when he didn’t have an immediate response. There was no idle chitchat, and no time for gossip in Al’s office.

  I had often been Al’s guest at the White House mess, but had not been able to lure him out to the DCI’s dining room on the seventh floor at the Agency. As we relaxed over coffee, and agreed on the apparent certainty that Nixon would be reelected, I asked what the future might hold for me.

  “I haven’t any insight into what the President will do about appointments,” Al said. “But why don’t you just wait and see what develops as things settle down. If you want to stay on, you might do so, and later, leave at your own convenience.”

  I indicated that I would almost certainly stay on if asked. I did not, however, add that Cynthia and I had pretty much decided that I would leave government sometime after the election. It had long been apparent to me that I was not one of the Haldeman/Ehrlichman favorites, and I had come to suspect that Nixon’s two courtiers had strongly opposed the President’s allowing me to remain in office for his first term. My impression of the President’s attitude was amply borne out in some of the Nixon White House documents released in March 1998. An item from an Associated Press account quotes some of H. R. Haldeman’s (September 1972) handwritten notes on Nixon’s goals for a second term: “Helms has got to go. Get rid of the clowns—cut personnel 40 percent. Its info worthless.” Clearly, Nixon held CIA to a higher account than he did his personal band of “plumbers” who were taken in flagrante in the course of a nighttime incursion, at the unprotected national headquarters of the Democratic Party, at the Watergate in Washington, D.C.

  Nixon wasted no time in shaping his new administration. At a cabinet meeting in which those at the table might have expected a few moments of cheer to celebrate the election result, Nixon asked one and all immediately to prepare their letters of resignation. This coincided with a similar order that all presidential appointees promptly draft their letters of resignation.