The Spy Who Tried to Stop a War

by Marcia Mitchell

Surely by now Ms Harman would cheerfully have strangled the honourable members who refused to accept her perfectly logical explanations about the law and the war and Katharine Gun.

  ‘That is not the case,’ she insisted.

  Members next tackled the NSA spy operation and wanted to know if Ms Harman accepted that it was ‘a clear violation not only of the Vienna convention on diplomatic relations, but – perhaps more importantly – of the 1946 general convention on the privileges and immunities of the United Nations’. Further, if the NSA–GCHQ operation had indeed taken place, ‘those who authorised them and carried them out were themselves in breach of the law’.

  Mr Michael Weir asked if an investigation would not be made into who was responsible for, and who had carried out, the spying scheme; further, he wanted to know, what action would be taken against the culprits. Clearly, the perpetrators resided at the National Security Agency, in Washington, DC, at GCHQ, and in London, although this was not said.

  Ms Harman’s honourable friend had placed her in an extremely difficult position. It is likely she knew her answer was a lie. As a senior law officer, she must have known the spy operation had in fact taken place, and she certainly was fully familiar with the international codes it had violated.

  ‘All I can say in response to the honourable gentleman is that the government comply at all times with their international treaty obligations, as well as with domestic and international law.’

  As the debate moved toward a painful and unsatisfying end, Mr Colin Challen of Morley and Rothwell agreed that the underlying issue, of going to war at the behest of the Americans, should be investigated and a report made to the House. The possibility of being dragged into an illegal war by the Americans was especially distasteful.

  The answer to a final question, posed by Mr Hugh Robertson, dealt with organizational issues and not at all with the substance of his enquiry.

  ‘Does the solicitor general accept that the government’s inability to prosecute a civil servant who leaked state secrets to the press – particularly given that she worked at GCHQ – will send a shiver down the spine of every man and woman who works for our intelligence services?’

  Who, Mr Robertson wondered, was going to protect the loyal people still working in the secret services?

  ‘I should perhaps remind … that it is not the government who prosecute under the Official Secrets Act, it is the prosecution service.’ As for protecting shivering spines, that was not a part of her territory. Someone else would have to deal with that.

  Not quite thirty years old, Katharine Gun had shaken the House to its prominent and ancient foundations. Unfortunately, the colourful and compelling debate focusing on the legality of the war was not re-enacted in, and did not shake the foundations of, the Congress of the United States.

  CHAPTER 17: Motivations, Misdeeds, and Tragic Mistakes

  What was propelling the prime minister was a determination that he would be the closest ally to George Bush … his problem is that George Bush’s motivation was regime change. It was not disarmament.

  Tony Blair knew perfectly well what he was doing.[1]

  – Former Cabinet Minister Robin Cook

  Misdeeds may be due to passion, appetite, or ignorance.

  – Plato

  WHY DID THEY do it? Any of them? Katharine, Bush, Blair? Why did British cabinet officers feel compelled to resign in the weeks following Katharine’s misdeed at Cheltenham? Were the white hats worn in the Gun saga truly white or simply politically bleached?

  From the beginning of the Gun story, the most intriguing questions raised had to do with the Why of it all. Why would a young woman risk everything to do what she did? Why would two world leaders support such an embarrassing breach of international ethics? Who were the heroes, and who were the villains?

  Motivating factors identified by Plato can be said to apply to heroics as well as misdeeds and, most appropriately, to the lead characters in the Gun story. Passion, on the parts of those wanting a war and those wanting to prevent or delay a war. Appetite, especially on the part of George Bush and company with their consuming hunger for taking out Saddam and their messianic, religion-driven fervour, for installing democracy in the Middle East. Ignorance, on the part of that same company, as well as on the part of Tony Blair for not predicting the inevitable chaos of an occupied Iraq and for failing to understand that their lies and deceit would ultimately be revealed. Ignorance on the part of Katharine Gun for believing she could remain anonymous and for believing her act of 3 February 2003 would not affect her life and that of her husband forever.

  There is another ‘why’ issue: oil. For centuries the world has dealt with, or failed to deal with, tyrannical dictators who have robbed and murdered multitudes of their own people. But Saddam Hussein had oil. China was opposed to war with Iraq; China buys much of its oil from that country. The United States is a notorious oil glutton. It was clear to even the most gullible that oil had a role to play in the push to depose Saddam, regardless of denials to the contrary.

  (‘It’s the oil, stupid,’ more than one pundit has said.)

  The performances of the players in this true-life drama have been judged as heroics or as misdeeds, the rightness or wrongness seen in the eyes of the various audience members. Their actions, as well as those of certain other members of the cast, particularly Clare Short and law expert Elizabeth Wilmshurst, were considered bold and courageous by some and deliberate acts of betrayal by others. For many observers of the theatrics as they played out before an international audience, the defining issue was intent, born of correct or profoundly incorrect motivations. Not a bad platform from which to judge.

  Contemplation of what motivates both courageous acts and misdeeds has intrigued the mind since the beginning of the human social experience. Such contemplation is both tantalizing and frustrating, for the answers to questions surrounding the performance of either are elusive and complex, more often speculative than certain. No one person can really know what is in the heart and mind of another. Even the best-trained professional can only judge by observation and listening. Personal truth, then, is subjective on the part of the observed and the observer. Still, with regard to this story, one is led to speculate, to draw certain conclusions about the truth, behaviour, and judgement of both.

  No aspect of this sort of contemplation is more challenging than that concerning loyalty and its obverse, betrayal, as displayed for world view in this case.

  Clearly, to some, Katharine Gun’s behaviour was disloyal and bordered on treason. Inevitably, there would be heated controversy over exactly what motivated her action that morning in Cheltenham. She has been articulate in explaining her reasons, and some have believed her. Others have not. For some, a perceived ‘Muslim connection’ that inspired Katharine’s lawbreaking has become like a chilling breeze that arises from time to time to disturb an otherwise rational piece of logic. There is no protection from this chill wind that continues to reappear. Those who believe in the existence of a secret commitment to Islam are not about to be convinced otherwise.

  The reason offered by Katharine Gun for committing a serious crime and threatening her future is that she wanted to prevent an illegal war. It was a decision of conscience, simply stated and, perhaps, pitifully naïve. It is not good enough for many.

  One of the most successful business leaders in the United States, former president and vice chairman of Chrysler and, at the time of this writing, chairman of General Motors North America, Robert Lutz was a Marine Corps attack pilot in the Korean War. The automotive guru is a keen observer of what makes people tick, certainly a key to his success. Lutz takes strong exception to Katharine Gun’s violation of the Official Secrets Act, for whatever reason she offers.

  ‘When you are under orders, you follow those orders, no matter what, no matter how you feel about what’s happening,’ he says. He considers her crime traitorous. Lutz piloted a plane carrying certain death, a payload he would release as instructed, whatever reservati
ons he might have about just who would die as a result. Lutz sees only chaos resulting when a pilot or foot soldier or, indeed, an intelligence officer decides which orders and instructions he or she chooses to follow.

  ‘She was wrong. It doesn’t matter how she felt about the NSA operation, she was dead wrong,’ Lutz says. ‘When you have sworn allegiance, as Katharine surely did, you cannot simply “opt out” and decide that your moral judgement or misgivings justify betraying the system you voluntarily joined.’[2]

  Similar feelings were expressed over a lunch in London, planned because of the nature of the two guests – keen and highly respected observers of not only the UK intelligence scene, but also of worldwide intelligence issues. Their opinions are sought, publicized, debated. The authors assumed the views of their guests would be the antithesis of their own, and thereby of special value. Their assumption was correct.

  ‘I don’t like her and I don’t like what she did,’ British intelligence consultant Glenmore Trenear-Harvey announced with typical Glenmore certainty. He was suspicious of Katharine’s motives from the beginning. ‘She’d been at GCHQ for two years. What did she think she was doing there?’ And then, ‘Did she plan this? Take the job and just wait to find something to leak?’ Unconvinced by protests to the contrary, Glenmore repeated, ‘I don’t like her and I don’t like what she did. She should have gone to prison.’

  Across the table, prolific writer of intelligence books Nigel West agreed, at least insofar as Katharine Gun’s leaking the infamous Koza e-mail. ‘I have a problem,’ the former member of Parliament said, ‘with people who put themselves above their political masters, who pontificate, who think they know the truth – arrogant, like Katharine, they cannot possibly see the big picture.’

  What one needs to understand, West said, is that intelligence officers work within their special microcosmic realms and have no knowledge of what is happening in the huge world of secrecy above and around them. To someone who is naïve or intent on deliberate harm, a specific piece of information collected might appear to be the proverbial smoking gun aimed at world peace. But it might be something else entirely. It might be, in whatever provocative colour and shape, simply a piece of a grand jigsaw puzzle belonging to the NSA’s director or MI6’s C. The point on which both luncheon guests agreed was this: An intelligence officer signs on for the duration and takes no action contrary to official instruction, adheres without question to the provisions of the Official Secrets Act, and remains loyal to the service under all circumstances. There is no excuse for, no reason for, doing anything else.

  ‘She was a slight woman, blonde. Seemed naïve, innocent, well-meaning,’ Glenmore said of Katharine. Emphasis was on ‘seemed’. In the next breath, he mentioned a brief, recent chat with Jane Fonda. The actress’s apology for her infamous mounting of a Vietcong anti-aircraft gun was intended to make her seem more naïve than guilty of a horrendous breach of patriotic ethic. But it didn’t work. Fonda knew what she was doing and why; the reasons offered for her unseemly behaviour were clearly false – as were Katharine Gun’s, insists Glenmore. Further, given the chance, Jane Fonda likely would not climb onto an enemy gun again, but Katharine would break the same law in a heartbeat. There can be no argument here; Katharine has said if she had it all to do over, she would leak the Koza message. A full-page colour photo of her appeared in the mainline British press with the statement, ‘I would do it again’ imposed in bold green letters below her right eye.[3]

  There was no question that Glenmore and his various insider sources believed ulterior motives guided Katharine’s hand on the morning of 3 February 2003. It was he who first suggested many months earlier that Katharine’s motivation came via her husband, ‘a Muslim’, whose wife had converted to Islam, a religious connection she denies. Glenmore also reflected the Intel party line when he cautioned against meeting with Katharine. Stay away, he warned the authors. She is bad news.

  ‘She swims in murky water,’ Nigel said of Katharine, water teeming with ‘protesters, ecological warriors, if not religious extremists’.

  As for murky waters, the four of us meeting over lunch also swim in waters that are less than clear, sharing a shadowy ecology with present and former members of the intelligence community, with writers about intelligence, with the clubby bunch who train and teach and preach and sometimes reveal certain secrets of the deep. On this remarkably lovely early summer day, we divided straight down the middle with regard to Katharine Gun.

  The timing of Katharine’s action proved to be a serious problem for Nigel, who found it excusable that others have blown whistles for the sake of correcting, not making, history. Katharine leaked a vital secret when ‘conflict was imminent. Her leak did not occur in a historical context, but at a time of peril,’ he said, making her crime especially serious. Enter that pesky jigsaw puzzle again. It is acceptable to make a correction with regard to a specific piece or pieces, but only once the entire puzzle is completed by the knowing hand of the puzzle maker.

  Nigel wanted the case against Katharine prosecuted and insisted that the reason for its collapse was not the need to keep under wraps Lord Goldsmith’s original decision about the legality of the war, but simply that the prosecution did not believe it had a good enough chance of convincing a jury of Katharine’s guilt.

  ‘There has to be at least a 60 per cent certainty before the government will go ahead,’ he said. He accepted the prime minister’s statement that dropping the case was based on ‘evidentiary and technical’ considerations, not on politics.

  The argument that the prosecution had eight months to figure its win potential and make the decision to charge and try Katharine carries little weight with those sharing Nigel’s position. Neither does the argument that only one element changed after those eight months – Liberty’s decision to challenge the government’s insistence that the war had been found to be legal by the attorney general. Nothing else. Prior to that bold move, the percentage for prosecutorial success remained the same from March until November, when Katharine was charged and scheduled to appear in the Old Bailey; it was unchanged until the demand for information on Lord Goldsmith’s opinion.

  Looking at the principal players in the Gun drama, focusing on George Bush and Tony Blair, and considering the Platonic influences of passion, appetite, and ignorance guiding their great misadventure leads to some disturbing conclusions.

  First, George Bush, ‘leader of the free world’. There was his long-standing desire to ‘take out’ Saddam Hussein, one surely fuelled by Cheney’s obsession and the hawkish inner circle surrounding him. Bush has been pictured as being cautious, reluctant to move toward war at times, but the Downing Street memos paint a different picture. Second, there was his naïve belief that his war against Iraq would be an easy in-and-out, essentially casualty-free exercise that would earn him the coveted historical distinction of ‘war president’. This would ensure an enviable presidential legacy, unlike that of Jimmy Carter, who did not have the political savvy to get into a war. Third, and most frightening of all, given his White House occupancy, was that some suspect the president believed he was God’s messenger destined to bring Democracy and Freedom, as he defined them, to the Middle East.

  Looking at certain of the president’s behaviours, noted clinical psychologist and author Dr Peter O. Whitmer finds intriguing possibilities in autistic logic, a mental certainty that can ‘seduce, inspire, and propel leaders of nations and groups’. It is a force, says Whitmer, ‘beyond the reasonable logic of reasonable men, energizing pursuit of extreme devotion, conviction and certitude’. It is a behaviour that differs markedly from the usual image of silent autistic withdrawal from reality and society.

  Extremism is key and ‘cuts both ways’, according to Whitmer. ‘There are extremes of both achievement and progress, bigotry, self-righteousness and downright pig-headedness.’ In autism, he says, one finds ‘the deepest well of human motivation, the most profound determinant of the “why” of one’s behaviour. Autistic thinking,
’ concludes Whitmer, ‘is zeal personified, a fuelled focus – a gift to some, destruction for others.’[4]

  For the record, Bush’s stated motivation can be found in numerous speeches and comments given to the press, to the public, and to Congress. Saddam Hussein had failed to comply with United Nations Security Council resolutions in the past, was continuing his obstructionist behaviour, had countless storehouses of weapons of mass destruction, and was an imminent threat not only to his neighbours but also to the entire world. It is likely Bush believed every word. He hardly mentioned regime change, prohibited by international law as the primary justification for attack, until the WMD rationale fell flat.

  As for Tony Blair, it seems apparent that he was motivated by the critical need to maintain a mutually supportive, politically and historically unique relationship with the United States. Further, lawyer Blair, politically more astute than his colleague across the Atlantic, did not go along with a distasteful, worrisome policy because he liked Bush’s famed barbecue served to foreign dignitaries visiting the president’s Texas ranch; rather, he did so because he hoped to influence policies decided there. It can be argued that he was deeply concerned, from the very beginning, about a wild-eyed US administration, ill-prepared and without international support, prematurely launching a war against Iraq and dragging along a reluctant, also ill-prepared, British partner. He was willing, to this end, to suffer the humiliation of being depicted in British newspaper cartoons as a curly-haired poodle being led by a tiny cowboy in an oversized Stetson and cowboy boots.

  A British civil servant, speaking anonymously, claims that it is widely believed in government circles that Mr Blair was anticipating the establishment of a ‘United States of Europe’. Standing strongly for principles that would define this new union, and standing against Saddam Hussein and his threats to the rest of the world, could polish Blair’s image as a leader. Blair could be seen as the obvious choice for the role of president of the new international body.