A Spy's Journey

by Floyd Paseman

  EIGHTEEN

  THE DIRECTORS OF

  CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE

  1967–2004

  I worked for 11 Directors of Central Intelligence and one longterm acting director during my 34 years with the CIA. This averages one director for every three years, which is too short to adequately meet the intelligence community’s needs.

  I would like to offer a few observations about the DCIs I served under. In order of appointment:

  Richard Helms (June 1966–February 1973)

  Helms was the DCI when I started at the CIA. In simple terms, he was a revered professional who had risen through the ranks. To those of us in the clandestine service, he was one of us. We knew he understood our unique mission and the difficulties we faced. I didn’t personally know Helms, although I briefed him on several occasions when he was a member of the President’s Foreign Intelligence Advisory Board (PFIAB). But I served the first part of my first overseas tour under him. And I clearly recall the publicity when the CIA retiree’s association paid his $2,000 fine for a perjury conviction in 1977, which was the result of his not testifying accurately about what he knew about Chile, due to valid concerns about sources and methods. I recommend Tom Powers’ terrific book The Man Who Kept the Secrets for an excellent account of Helms.1

  James Schlesinger (February 1973–July 1973)

  I was fortunate to be stationed overseas during the short, turbulent rule of James Schlesinger, who has the distinction of having the shortest tenure of any DCI in history. It was the first time during my tenure that we had a DCI who didn’t want to be there—and it showed. Schlesinger came to the job as a Washington insider. He had previously held posts at the Atomic Energy Commission, and had been deputy director of the Office of Management and Budget in 1971. Further, and this surely led to his appointment as DCI, Schlesinger, under instructions from President Nixon, had conducted a comprehensive review of the intelligence community. He came to the job with strong views on what needed to be done.

  Schlesinger put out a directive for all CIA employees to come forth with any information they had about illegal activities. Many did, and many officers were fired. By the time Schlesinger was done, he had fired over 7 percent of the CIA workforce, most of them from the Directorate of Operations. This was my first experience with the ups and downs of CIA personnel and budgetary allotments. This took place under the title BALPA, meaning balance of payments. In truth, it resulted in a significant reduction in our intelligence collection capabilities, even for the very short period that Schlesinger was DCI.

  Schlesinger went on to be secretary of defense—a position he was interested in. But he was unceremoniously dumped by President Gerald Ford, along with William Colby at the CIA, Nelson Rockefeller as the vice-presidential candidate, and Henry Kissinger as national security advisor, in what was dubbed the Halloween massacre in November 1975.

  William Colby (September 1973–January 1976)

  Colby was a veteran of the Office of Strategic Services (the OSS) during World War II. I first knew of him when he was chief of the Far East division (now East Asia Division), and he was one of my predecessors in this position. I recall meeting him the first time early in my career while he was briefing a large group of us at the Agency auditorium. He was known as a humorless man, fascinated by statistics. I can still remember people at the briefing groaning and rolling their eyes as Colby punctuated his presentation with more statistics than anyone could possibly absorb. I was never high enough in rank to have any dealings with him as the DCI. Two excellent books I would recommend by Colby are: Honorable Men2 and his book on the Vietnam War, Lost Victory.3

  Colby was disliked by many CIA veterans because he revealed CIA family secrets to Seymour Hersh, the distinguished columnist for the New York Times, who subsequently published all of Colby’s revelations, nearly 700 pages in all, in the Times. Others disliked Colby for his willingness to make full disclosures to the Church Committee, which conducted a congressional probe of the CIA. The result was the establishment of permanent congressional oversight—anathema to many intelligence professionals at the time.

  The family secrets were a revelation, not only to the American public, but to most of us in the CIA as well. Certainly those of my generation had no real knowledge of the barrage of abuses presented in the media on a daily basis. The Agency’s own internal review of the abuses consisted of 693 pages of possible violations.

  There was a further schism in the CIA when, in 1974, Colby made the decision to refer the testimony of former DCI Richard Helms about events in Chile to the Justice Department. Justice took legal action against Helms, who was convicted of perjury. I never felt that Colby deserved all the criticism he got for all of this. In reality, the CIA, and certainly the American public, are much better off with a properly supervised intelligence apparatus than they were when oversight was a wink and a nod between the DCI and powerful congressmen, as was the case from William “Wild Bill” Donovan to Colby.

  The mysterious circumstances of Colby’s death remain unknown to this day. An excellent boater and swimmer, he disappeared while paddling down a Maryland river in April 1996. His body was recovered on May 6, 1996. Naturally, this set off a series of rumors, and the conspiracy buffs had another preposterous story—that CIA officers with grudges against Colby had him killed. It did a real disservice to Colby, his family, and the CIA.

  George H. W. Bush (January 1976–January 1977)

  I was overseas during all of George H. W. Bush’s short tenure as DCI. I met and briefed him one time when he was ambassador to China and had good vibes about him. It was clear he really understood intelligence and how to use it. In addition, there probably has never been a DCI who was loved as much as Bush was. I met him several times since his tour as DCI, and he remembered who I was, even though my dealings with him were rather routine. He remains revered in the CIA, as demonstrated by his frequent appearances at headquarters and by the CIA building being named the George Bush Center for Intelligence.

  Stansfield Turner (March 1977–January 1981)

  I was lucky to be overseas during the first part of Stansfield Turner’s tenure as DCI, and unlucky to be home during its finale. Simply put, neither President Jimmy Carter nor Turner had any use for human spying. It was clear early on that they much preferred the antiseptic approach of both spy satellites and intercepting communications. The fact that electronic intelligence is spying, just like human spying, seemed to make little difference. And Turner fired over 800 CIA case officers overnight. Many of them, like myself, were fluent in exotic languages; most were mid-level in grade; and all had overseas experience. Turner’s cuts set our human intelligence networks back for decades.

  Reportedly, Turner was cutting CIA bloat left over from the Vietnam War. No question our ranks had swelled during the Vietnam era. But a more reasoned, careful approach could have avoided all the damage to our human collection efforts, not to mention the instantaneous alienation of over one-fourth of the CIA. Incredibly, Turner was reportedly stunned by the hostile reaction to the mass firings. More incredible still, in his book Secrecy and Democracy, Turner complains about the lack of human intelligence during the Iran hostage crisis. I recommend his book for those interested in the history of and dealings with terrorism during this time.4

  William Casey (January 1981–January 1987)

  A friend of mine and former chief, Near East division, Frank Anderson, probably said it best about the tenure of William Casey: “Casey was both the best thing that happened to the Agency, and at the same time, unfortunately, probably the worst thing that happened to the Agency.”5 Anderson’s comment captures well the essence of this unusual DCI with direct access to the most powerful man in America, President Ronald Reagan. Casey was the first DCI to acquire cabinet-level status, giving him more power than any DCI since the legendary William Donovan.

  I had a number of dealings with Casey. None was more interesting than the day I received a phone call from the DDO asking, “You speak Chin
ese, right?” I said I did and was told to report to the DCI suite to interpret. I knew a high-level Chinese defector was in town, and I had, in fact, helped arrange a personal meeting for him with the DCI. So I was prepared. I asked only one question: “Who will be in the meeting?” I was told it would be Casey, the defector, and myself. In I went.

  Dozens of chapters have been written about Casey’s personal appearance—rumpled suits, mumbled words, and so forth. I won’t dwell on that, as I knew going in that understanding the DCI could sometimes be challenging. One Senate Select Committee member once commented, “Bill [Casey] doesn’t need a scrambler—no one can understand him anyway.” And, as Bob Gates notes in his fine book Out of the Shadows, Casey did what he typically did—he opened the door and yelled, “Three martinis!” and the meeting got underway.

  Unfortunately, after just a few words of introduction, with me interpreting from the defector to Casey (Chinese to English), and from Casey back to the defector (English to Chinese), the martinis arrived. Casey handed one to our guest, toasted him, and then grabbed a handful of peanuts, shoved them into his mouth, and continued talking. As he did so, peanuts fell onto his tie, and when he bent over to pick up another handful of peanuts, he spilled a good portion of his martini onto his shoes. With a mouthful of fresh peanuts, Casey continued the conversation. It was a real struggle, but we made it through a half-hour session. Our defector was moved to tears at the reception by the head of American intelligence.

  On the way out, Bob Gates stopped me and asked how things went. I said they went fine. “How in the world did you understand the boss enough to do the translating into Chinese?” Gates asked.

  “I didn’t,” I said truthfully, “I just told the fellow what I thought the director should have said.” We all laughed, but the mission was accomplished.

  Casey continued to get us in trouble with his penchant for operating on the edge, often in spite of advice to the contrary. Casey wanted those around him to be activists and find ways around obstacles. He parceled tasks out to whomever he wished, and we were forever cleaning up after him. I recall once when one of Casey’s favorites, the head of the task force working the Iran-Contra operation, came to see me to order me to seek a contribution for their secret fund from our Chinese counterparts. I told the officer, who had been a classmate of mine in training, that before I proceeded, I needed to know under whose authority this request was coming. And I wanted to know whether or not it had been agreed to by my immediate boss, the chief of the East Asia division, and by the DDO. I was told that no, neither had been consulted, nor did they need to be. My colleague told me, “You don’t need to worry about that—I’m doing this on Casey’s orders.”

  I told my colleague that I had no intention of responding to this request. First, I said, the Chinese would refuse such a request, and it would damage the valuable relationships we were carefully building. Second, I said I wouldn’t work in this uncontrolled way. My colleague was furious. “Buddy, you don’t know who you are refusing,” he shouted. Nonetheless, I told him I would respond once I received the request properly. He stomped out of my office, and I never heard another word about secretly soliciting funds. I had no idea of the extent of the Iran-Contra disaster. My colleague was later convicted and fined for perjury for falsely testifying before Congress about the whole mess.

  Casey had a way of reaching out into private industry or anywhere else and pulling someone in to do special tasks. It was a messy way of doing business, and we ultimately paid the price for it. And so did the U.S. military. Embarrassed by the Desert One fiasco during the Iran hostage crisis, and encouraged by Casey, the military longed for the chance to set up their own version of the CIA. They did so, and established a program called Yellow Fruit. Although it began with the best of intentions, Yellow Fruit worked in the cavalier, outside-the-system process that Casey liked so much. I knew one or two mid-level military officers involved, although I had no idea of what they were really doing, or of the scope of the eventual scam. But Yellow Fruit wound up embarrassing the entire U.S. military command structure when it was found that over 300 million taxpayer dollars were missing. Eventually one colonel and two lieutenant colonels were convicted by a court-martial for their roles in the diversion of funds and sentenced to Leavenworth. Interestingly, one of the people involved in Yellow Fruit’s unraveling was retired Lieutenant Colonel “Bo” Gritz of the Vietnam POW escapades. Tim Weiner’s book, Blank Check: The Pentagon’s Black Budget,6 has a detailed chapter on Yellow Fruit. I can recommend two books about Casey: Veil: The Secret Wars of the CIA 1981—1987, by Bob Woodward,7 which is quite flawed, and Casey: The Lives and Secrets of William J. Casey, by Joseph Persico, which is quite excellent.8

  William Webster (May 1987–August 1991)

  I was a fan of Bill Webster as DCI. Judge Webster inherited a terrible public relations mess when he arrived, and in my estimation, he did a terrific job of restoring the CIA’s image. I was one of his chiefs during this time, and I had a number of dealings with him. I remember well one of his first press conferences after his confirmation as DCI. One reporter asked him, “Judge, having spent your career enforcing the law, how can you now take over being head of an organization whose mission is to break the law?”

  Silence followed, until the Judge replied, “We at the CIA don’t break America’s laws, we break the laws of the other fellows’ countries.” It was a tremendous boost to all of our morale.

  In William Webster, we had the antithesis of the management style of his predecessor, William Casey. The Judge was laid back and delegated everything. He surrounded himself with good people, listened to them, made decisions, and let the rest of the staff do their jobs. Some have accused him of being too aloof, but I never found that to be the case in my dealings with him.

  I recall one good example. I brought back a very senior intelligence official from the country I was assigned to. He had tremendous influence in his government and was also the close confidant of the prime minister of that country. I scheduled him for a call on the DCI. It was to be a most important meeting. Thirty minutes before the meeting, I received a call from the DCI office asking me to come up and meet with the DCI before I brought the guest up. I did, and had a half-hour meeting with the Judge. It was obvious the Judge knew little about the country from which my visitor came, nor much about our programs. However, in those 30 minutes, the Judge asked me all the right questions: who this man was, why he was seeing him, who he knew in the region, and more. As we finished, the Judge asked me, “What questions do you want me to ask him?” and “What should I ask him to do for you and our station that we are not currently doing or that you having trouble getting them to do?” I gave the Judge several suggestions in both areas and left to escort the visitor up.

  The meeting went extremely well. Our visitor was very impressed with the Judge’s knowledge of the area and of our programs. Additionally, when I returned to the country, we got even better cooperation in the areas we needed. I learned a good deal about managing large organizations from watching the Judge in action.

  Robert Gates (November 1991–January 1993)

  There is no doubt that Bob Gates was one of the most politically savvy directors of Central Intelligence in the history of the Agency. And, he certainly earned his shot, having served at both the Agency and at the National Security Council as well. He also had the unique distinction of being the only director ever confirmed on a second nomination, having been denied his post after a first nomination.

  I have heard Gates talk about his support for the Directorate of Operations in public forums. But Gates has long been a critic of the DO, which may have had something to do with his first, unsuccessful nomination hearings, when President Reagan nominated him to succeed William Casey. There can be no dispute that anyone inside the CIA who was nominated to follow Casey was headed for a firestorm in the hearings. The Iran-Contra scandal ensured that. Gates was surely burned by the operational activities of the DO, and it is unlikely he forgot it.
During this eight-month-long go-around, he had to settle for the position of acting DCI until Webster stepped in.

  But loyalty and persistence have their own payoff, and President Bush nominated Gates for his second try in 1991. Gates continued to take arrows in the chest from those who opposed his nomination from a number of areas. Iran/Contra haunted him again, but it was the charges that he politicized intelligence that caused the most controversy during the hearings. I cannot fairly comment on those charges, not having been in the Directorate of Intelligence. On October 18, 1991, after more than a month of torturous testimony, the Senate Select Committee for Intelligence passed his nomination by a lethargic 11–4 margin. Gates was confirmed by the full Senate, 64–33, the lowest approval percentage of any DCI in history. Gates served well, but without any particular disturbances during his tenure—the Berlin Wall went down during Webster’s reign, and the Gulf War was well over by the time Gates took his post.

  But Gates served his country in more positions than probably any intelligence officer in history. He certainly was the ultimate insider and probably knew more about the security system of the United Stated and how to manage it than any DCI before him or after. And no one should miss his memoirs, From the Shadows.9

  James Woolsey (February 1993–January 1995)

  Jim Woolsey was arguably one of the smartest DCIs ever. A graduate of Stanford and Yale and a Rhodes Scholar—he had all the intellectual credentials anyone could hope for. And he was a Washington insider par excellence. He served in the Office of the Secretary of Defense (1968–1970) and the National Security Staff (1970), and was advisor to SALT (1969–1970), general counsel to the Senate Armed Services Committee (1970–1973), and undersecretary of the navy (1977–1979). Further, he was a START and NST delegate (1983–1986), a member of numerous presidential commissions (1983–1989), and ambassador and U.S. representative to the Conventional Armed Forces, Europe negotiations (1989–1991). You could argue that he was well trained to become DCI.