Circle of Treason

by Sandra V. Grimes

  How and why did the CIA conclude that a source who had already provided American intelligence with valuable information was a fraud? The answer is not simple and has been the subject of several books that have detailed its history and effect on U.S. intelligence collection against the Soviet Union in general and the personnel of the CIA and FBI in particular. We will not recount this history at length here, but only address how Polyakov fell into this dark hole. The story of other sources will follow.

  Unfortunately for Polyakov, he volunteered to the FBI within a year of Golitsyn’s 1961 defection. In the eyes of some, Golitsyn’s prediction of false defectors had become reality and Polyakov’s approach was proof of the KGB plot. First Angleton and then many others forgot, did not want to believe, or did not have the courage to point out that there was no factual basis for Golitsyn’s predictions and that they could be nothing more than the ramblings of a paranoid and egotistical defector. Thus, when the CIA sent Jim F to Rangoon, he had orders to prove that Polyakov was a KGB plant.

  One cannot imagine two more different personalities: Polyakov, a military man meticulous in his dress and appearance; Jim F, a civilian with nicotine-stained fingers and teeth, and, in his own words, only owning three suits in his professional career; Polyakov, an accomplished sportsman, with a passion for hunting, fishing, and other outdoor activities; Jim, more comfortable with books and an audience of like-minded dilettantes; Polyakov, an occasional social drinker; Jim, a martini man who enjoyed his silver bullets; Polyakov, an expert in the nuts and bolts world of spy gear and internal communications techniques; and Jim, the big-picture thinker who enjoyed the search for answers to “what if” questions. We can only guess at Polyakov’s personal reaction to Jim and to a lesser extent Jim’s reaction to Polyakov. Jim was always closemouthed on any discussion of Polyakov the man, and even years later would simply comment that he found Polyakov to be a cold person with beady eyes.

  In sum, Jim viewed the operation as an adversarial relationship. To Polyakov it was a business partnership. He provided information the U.S. government needed and it, in turn, fulfilled his requests for career assistance and remuneration. He understood his role and recognized more than anyone the great risk he had taken when he volunteered to the U.S. government in New York in 1961. He was the agent who just happened to be a Soviet intelligence officer and Jim was his case officer. Jim asked the questions and he answered them. Totally unaware of the controversy surrounding him, the only hint of frustration Polyakov displayed during his two years with Jim was with Jim’s preoccupation with requirements on GRU Illegals operations of the 1950s.

  From 1956 to 1959 Polyakov had been the GRU headquarters desk officer responsible for GRU Illegals sent to the United States, and in this position he knew their true names, false identities, and operational objectives. He even participated in their mission training. John Mabey had debriefed Polyakov on these cases in 1961–62 in New York and again during their recontact in Burma in 1966, but Jim covered the same ground in greater detail and in meeting after meeting. For Polyakov this was history, perhaps intellectually interesting but certainly not of critical or strategic importance to the United States. Some of the cases went back ten years, and none was active. The GRU Illegal in question had either returned to Moscow or was under FBI control. Polyakov felt that valuable time was being wasted; he had knowledge of many items of more importance to provide the Americans—Soviet military and economic assistance to the North Vietnamese, Soviet-Chinese relations, GRU agent operations in Southeast Asia, GRU collection requirements against the United States, identities of GRU officers worldwide, and an array of other subjects.

  The Black Hats viewed the questions about the old GRU Illegals cases quite differently. Polyakov’s responses would serve as evidence that he was under KGB control, because they had independent reporting on Polyakov’s role in the Illegals cases from Petr Semenovich Popov, a lieutenant colonel in the GRU who volunteered to the CIA in Vienna in 1952. In 1957 Popov was assigned to East Berlin, where he handled Polyakov’s GRU Illegals as they transited East Berlin en route to the West. If any portion of Polyakov’s reporting on these cases differed from Popov’s, it was proof that Polyakov was lying. If Polyakov’s information corroborated Popov’s, the Black Hats’ lecture was always the same: “The KGB has to provide us with some good information to guarantee that we will continue to handle the operation.” With such circular reasoning, no source could establish his bona fides. Polyakov’s lighthearted impatience on the topic of Illegals was seen as a further sign of KGB control of the contact, intended only to mask the “truth.”

  Fortunately for Polyakov, there were some brave souls who did not accept the Monster Plot theory. The SE Division component that provided day-to-day support to the Polyakov operation was headed at the time by Walter Lomac. Lomac was a gentle bear of a man with an infectious laugh who took a straightforward approach to the case. To him, there were two simple questions that needed to be asked, and the answers to these questions would determine whether Polyakov was what he claimed—a GRU staff officer who was committing continuous treason against the USSR. First, was Polyakov providing the U.S. government with secrets he should have access to as a colonel in the GRU, as the Soviet military attaché in the Soviet embassy in Rangoon, and as head of the GRU contingent in Burma? Second, did the members of the U.S. intelligence community to whom this information was disseminated judge it to be accurate and valuable? If the answers to these two questions were yes and remained yes after each debriefing, Polyakov’s bona fides were established to Lomac’s satisfaction and the Black Hats were wrong.

  Under Lomac’s oversight, the branch’s duties were the same as those of any DO headquarters component responsible for managing an agent from a hostile intelligence service. Lomac insisted that the focus remain on those duties.

  The branch had a small number of employees at the time, and a typical day would find officers and secretaries in their cramped quarters writing and typing cables, dispatches, and memoranda; transcribing and translating Russian language material; and collating and filing the mounds of paper generated by the operation. The branch had infrequent contact with Joe Evans, Peter Kapusta, and other Black Hats in SE CI’s Investigations Branch. They viewed the GRU component as enemy territory, an attitude Lomac did not discourage, and appeared only briefly to deliver follow-up questions about the GRU Illegals of the 1950s, with instructions to send them to the field in time for the next meeting.

  Angleton himself did not personally visit the branch, but during Polyakov’s tour in Burma all correspondence to the field had to be coordinated with him. If he objected to something, the cable was changed or not sent. Simply stated, Angleton had veto rights in the management of the case and used them as he saw fit. This was contrary to accepted DO policy and practice because such authority belonged to the operating division. Yet this was the daily routine in the Polyakov case until his departure from Rangoon.

  Lomac’s stance was not without personal risk. Frequently summoned to the division’s front office, berated for his position on the case, and ordered to see the light, he never wavered in his two-question, two-answer approach to the operation and by extension to Polyakov himself. He protected his branch, but his belief in Polyakov eventually cost him his career.

  In early 1968 William Colby, then-chief of the Far East Division, was scheduled to take over the Soviet Division from David Murphy. Colby had apparently heard rumors as to discord within the division on the Polyakov case, and asked to be briefed by Lomac. Lomac was instructed to present the case to Colby along management’s line that Polyakov was a suspected provocation agent. Lomac flatly refused, claiming that his views regarding management’s theory about the Monster Plot and the Polyakov case were well known to management and he was not about to reverse his opinion or perjure himself to the incoming division chief.

  During his briefing Lomac presented Colby with two written reports summarizing Polyakov’s production in both the counterintelligence and posi
tive intelligence areas. Colby seemed impressed with the reports and asked for Murphy’s opinion on the contents of the reports. Lomac had not sought Murphy’s approval of their content before passing them, knowing that such approval would not be forthcoming. Indeed he had not even told Murphy of their existence because they had been prepared specifically for Colby’s briefing. (Colby’s assignment to the Soviet Division never took place as he was chosen to head the Phoenix Program in Vietnam instead. Rolfe Kingsley, a European Division officer, was selected as Murphy’s replacement in lieu of Colby.)

  Not surprisingly, Murphy was enraged. He called Lomac into his office the next day and gave him a “directed assignment” abroad, which in DO parlance meant you packed your bags and went where ordered. You did not argue and you did not complain. Should you choose not to comply, the consequences were understood. The next “directed assignment” would lead out the door.

  Lomac returned to his office immediately after his meeting with Murphy, called the branch together, and announced that he had been assigned to Africa. Several officers gasped. For an SE Division officer who was responsible for a major operation, an assignment to Africa was banishment—the equivalent of an FBI officer being sent to Idaho. Lomac, however, chuckled and said: “Thank God Murphy doesn’t know his geography. I’m going to Nairobi!” Laughter erupted from those in the know. Africa may have been exile, but Nairobi at the time was a jewel of a location—wonderful climate, beautiful and spacious housing, Western amenities and conveniences, and a fertile environment for operations against Soviet and East European targets. Lomac would have rewarding work and his family would be comfortable, but he also understood that he no longer would be considered part of SE Division’s pool of candidates for advancement.

  While Lomac did subsequently have a long and productive career, his assessment was correct in terms of advancement—a GS-14 in 1968, he retired as a GS-15 in 1979, awarded one promotion in twelve years. But Lomac’s story did not end there. The CIA finally acknowledged his sacrifices and in 1979 publicly recognized his stand in the Polyakov case during a medal ceremony in the director’s conference room, where he was awarded the Intelligence Medal of Merit. Lomac had put Polyakov’s security and the viability of the operation above career and personal ambition and in direct opposition to every man in his chain of command. He had lived by his principles of intellectual honesty and personal integrity during a difficult and unfortunate time and he richly deserved the belated recognition.

  In 1968 there were major changes in the Polyakov operation. At headquarters Lomac’s duties were assumed by caretaker Richards Heuer, deputy chief of the SE CI Group and a Black Hat hard-liner. In the field Jim F was replaced as Polyakov’s case officer by another Russian speaker, Al K. Al was a devotee of the Angleton/Golitsyn Monster Plot theory and in essence reflected division management’s continued belief in the KGB-controlled-source saga.

  Al K was a plodding case officer and his operational skills did not impress the full colonel in the GRU. Nevertheless, during their year together they developed a collegial relationship that had been nonexistent with Jim F. Al, like Polyakov, was of Ukrainian descent. He had a jovial personality and, again unlike Jim, masked his feelings that the colonel was under KGB control. Moreover and of probably equal significance was that Al was not saddled with asking Polyakov endless follow-up questions on the extinct GRU Illegals cases. Instead, meaningful and critical requirements on the priority issues of the times streamed to the field. Polyakov was pleased and the quality and quantity of his production continued to soar.

  Meetings began with a brief discussion of what we called housekeeping items, to include a review of the details of the next scheduled contact and the passage of requested gifts or monies. Then it was time for business. Polyakov handed over rolls of undeveloped 35-mm film that contained the contents of the GRU pouch from Moscow and the return pouch from Rangoon. He briefly described the items, highlighting those dispatches of priority interest so that once the film was developed and printed the most important or time-critical information could be pulled for immediate translation. Next he detailed the cables his residency had received from Moscow since the last meeting. Rarely did he photograph this material because GRU security regulations required that cable traffic be read in the presence of the GRU code clerk and then returned for destruction. Even as the local GRU chief, Polyakov was only permitted to take brief notes on cable contents. The remainder of a contact with Polyakov was devoted to coverage of CIA counterintelligence and positive intelligence requirements. Meetings generally lasted no more than an hour, and ended with polite good-byes.

  To appreciate fully the significance of the information Polyakov provided in Rangoon, and subsequently in New Delhi, one must understand how the Soviet system worked. First, as a Soviet military officer and member of the General Staff Polyakov had access to documents on Soviet military plans and philosophy. Second, as a Soviet intelligence officer he had access to documents on, and knowledge of, GRU operations, agents, spy gear, modus operandi, and the identities of GRU staff officers worldwide. Third, as a senior member of a Soviet Embassy abroad and as a Communist Party activist he had access to classified Soviet Ministry of Foreign Affairs material and Party directives. Fourth, his rank of Colonel and of greater import General afforded him access to strategic information denied to the vast majority of lower-ranking GRU officers. Lastly, Polyakov was an insider—a member of the “old boy” network based on his wartime record, his many years of service in the GRU, and his innate character and personality. This took him into his organization’s most inner circle, which gave him access to state secrets that he otherwise would have been denied solely by his rank and position title.

  Polyakov was not a passive asset, simply content to pass documents that Moscow center decided to send to his residency. Conversely, he was not reckless, requesting material that raised the eyebrows of KGB security monitors within GRU headquarters. He took a measured approach, asking for additional information only when a situation presented itself. This was exemplified with his documentary production on spy equipment and began when an asset of the Rangoon residency was scheduled for training on a long-range agent communications device. Polyakov saw and seized the opportunity. Unknown to us, he asked GRU headquarters to send the top secret, 100-plus-page design manual for the equipment along with the standard training brochures. Moscow reasoned the manual was of use only to the engineers at headquarters and denied Polyakov’s request. Undeterred, he asked for reconsideration, citing the possible need for equipment repair given the hot, humid climate in Burma and his recognized technical expertise in the agent communications field. Moscow acceded and headquarters approved his request. He successfully made the same argument for other items issued to residency assets, such as document copying devices, miniature recorders, rollover cameras, and the latest in short-range and long-range communications equipment.

  Polyakov took special delight in providing this information. Over time he had developed a distrust of CIA spy gear, opining that it was neither user-friendly nor reliable. He preferred the Soviet-made equipment that was of simple design and rugged construction, was easy to use for case officer and agent alike, and was dependable. Polyakov believed that CIA engineers could benefit from the technical documents he provided. Unfortunately, to our chagrin, on one occasion we learned that possession of the GRU manuals did not rectify all the technical difficulties we encountered with the Polyakov operation, as outlined in the paragraph below.

  During Polyakov’s first assignment to New Delhi, his communicator notified him of the receipt of an urgent cable from Moscow that was classified “Top Secret of Special Importance” and that contained instructions that it be passed to the Soviet Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs, Mikhail Kapitsa, who was in New Delhi as part of a tour of Southeast Asian capitals. Later dubbed the “Kapitsa Document” by U.S. intelligence, the cable was a detailed, straightforward commentary on Soviet foreign policy plans and objectives for every major country in the
world. Immediately recognizing the significance and importance of the information and that this was a one-time bonanza, Polyakov decided to violate GRU regulations. He took the document to a curtained-off area of the residency and photographed it using a newly developed CIA rollover camera that was based in part on the GRU rollover manual he had provided years earlier. Still distrustful of the reliability of our devices Polyakov also took pictures of the cable with his trusty 35-mm camera, even though he realized that the clicks of each frame snapped might be heard by his code clerk who was only feet away.

  Polyakov’s misgivings about our state-of-the-art camera were well founded. Only one image was readable; the remaining frames were blank. Thankfully, the 35-mm copies were perfect and the U.S. government had the worldwide blueprints of Soviet foreign policy for years to come.

  THE POLYAKOV CASE—THE MIDDLE

  POLYAKOV RETURNED TO MOSCOW in August 1969, where he became Chief of the China Direction, responsible for GRU operations against the People’s Republic of China. At CIA headquarters Sandy’s branch turned over day-to-day responsibility for the case to the branch that supported Moscow Station activities. Before departing Rangoon, Polyakov was issued the standard internal communications plan: dead drop and signal sites, one-time cipher pads, secret writing, prewritten cover letters, instructions for a one-way voice link for radio communications from our headquarters, and accommodation addresses. Although he was issued a two-way plan, he simply chose to ignore any CIA-initiated communication, which he considered too dangerous given the omnipotence of the local KGB and, by extension, the CIA’s inability to operate securely in that environment. As practiced by Polyakov, our communication link was one way: from him to us.