On July 18, 1980, headquarters recommended sending another “Daniel” letter and said that because Kuklinski might need “some bolstering of spirit,” the agency should bestow on him the Distinguished Intelligence Medal.
In July 1980, the Polish government announced that it would sharply increase the price of meat, a staple of the Polish diet, which prompted wildcat factory strikes across the country. Food prices, always an explosive issue, had led to protests and violence in 1970 and again in 1976. Workers’ meager earnings provided barely enough for their families to subsist. There were also widely known inequities in the system: The party elite had access to stores where food was plentiful; and factory managers could receive special allotments of meat and other groceries to share with family and friends.
By early August, the work stoppages had spread to more than 150 factories, and workers had begun demanding higher pay, an end to press censorship, and other freedoms. The historic strike in the Lenin shipyard in Gdansk, led by Lech Walesa, occurred on August 14. Kuklinski was excited by the burgeoning revolution in Poland. As he watched and read news accounts, he was filled with admiration for Solidarity. He was particularly moved by Walesa’s bravery.
On August 14, the day of the Gdansk strike, Kuklinski was asked by Skalski to supervise a small group whose principal task would be to monitor the strikes, brief the General Staff leadership, and respond to any requests from the Interior Ministry.
Kuklinski heard debate in the General Staff about whether the army should be deployed against the strikers; the officers agreed that such a strategy would only embolden the strikers and make it harder for Poland to resolve the situation internally. There was even concern that the Soviet Union would send troops based in the westernmost republics across the border to restore order.
On August 20, Polish authorities arrested more than a dozen leaders of the dissident organization KOR, a committee of workers and intellectuals created after the food riots in July 1976 to defend people involved in labor actions. On August 22, Polish workers won a major victory when the Polish government agreed to negotiate with their representatives. The strikes had closed more than 300 factories in Poland and involved more than 150,000 workers. Within days, the prime minister and three other members of the ruling Politburo were dismissed in a government shake-up. The Soviets issued sharp criticism of the workers, announcing that Poland was being destabilized by “anti-socialist elements.” In early September, the regime signed agreements at Gdansk and Szczecin, and then at Jastrzebie, that promised critical reforms, such as the legalization of trade unions, the right to strike, more press freedoms, and better social services. “We have not won everything that we hoped for and dreamed about,” Walesa declared, “but we have achieved as much as we could under the circumstances, including respect for certain civil rights.” Several days later, Gierek was ousted as Communist party chief and replaced by Stanislaw Kania, a fifty-three-year-old member of the Polish Politburo who had been responsible for the Ministry of Interior, the army and the police.
During the turbulent summer of 1980, a new Chief of Station, Tom Ryan, arrived in Warsaw. A Bronx-born U.S. Army veteran, Ryan, who was turning forty-nine, was about to celebrate his twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. He and his wife, Lucille, had looked forward to the assignment, in part because Tom promised Lucille they could celebrate by taking romantic vacations around Europe. But, as Lucille recalled, “We got there in July, and by September, everything was going down the tubes.”
In Washington, meanwhile, President Carter’s national security adviser, Zbigniew Brzezinski, was convinced that Moscow would see the turmoil as a major threat to both Poland’s political structure and Moscow’s authority. On September 3 he asked Turner for the CIA’s assessment of whether Moscow would intervene with troops.
On September 13, Kuklinski wrote a sixteen-page letter to the CIA, in which he described a debate within the General Staff about the government’s capitulation to the workers and the potential for an invasion by the Soviet Union. The General Staff leadership was following the crisis “with utmost apprehension.”
It was realized that an eventual decision to use troops against the strikers could not only strengthen the determination of the strikers, but also lead to a state in which a solution on the internal plan would not be possible. At the peak phase of the conflict, just before signing the agreements at Szczecin and Gdansk, even though there was no specific information, the possibility of bringing into Poland a dozen or so, and even tens of Soviet divisions from the western regions of the U.S.S.R. was taken into consideration.
There also had been discussion of East Germany’s and Czechoslovakia’s possible participation in an invasion, because the conflict in Poland posed a threat to their countries. Jaruzelski appeared to be trying to orchestrate events. When Gierek legalized the union and the right to strike, Jaruzelski “allegedly expressed disapproval not only of those who were responsible for it, but also of Gierek.” Kuklinski was convinced that Jaruzelski and Kania, the new party leader, in concert with Moscow, had been behind Gierek’s dismissal.
“The election of Kania already indicates a decisive influence of Jaruzelski on Party operations,” Kuklinski wrote. “At this stage, he preferred to remain the power behind the throne. However, this does not rule out his greater ambitions, as long as they were not fulfilled under conditions of a party coup.”
Kuklinski speculated that Jaruzelski aspired to be party secretary. “In any event, the Party and Soviet leadership can depend on one more anchor,” Kuklinski wrote. “All that I have said here does not in the end rule out the positive role of this man in resolving the conflict. However, it is regrettable that Jaruzelski’s strong position in the party, his ability to influence Kania―a man of a low power of independent thinking and acting―will create for the country yet many misfortunes, and possibly nullify the step forward.”
Kuklinski noted that he had been asked to oversee the special group to monitor events. He added that the events in his country had only reaffirmed his commitment to the secret collaboration. “I must say this, without beating around the bush, that this cooperation has me totally under its spell,” he wrote. “I am happy, almost like a child, with the acquisition of every important document and piece of information; the fact that I am constructing a means of safely sending information from Poland to the West, and with knowing that this material is indeed from me.”
He said he grasped the concern behind the agency’s suggestion that he take another break from his collection activities, which had been communicated to him recently.
I understand the reasons which motivated you gentlemen, especially―I am guessing―my personal friend Daniel, proposing temporary curtailment (for a period of four to six months) of our activities. Thank you for the noble intentions. I realize that the proposal stemmed from a desire to give me rest from tension, help me to regenerate strength. At this time. I feel much better, in fact, very well. Today, I need our collaboration as much as any other function of normal life.
Kuklinski placed his letters in a container with thirteen rolls of film, which included a forty-one-page Russian document on the Warsaw Pact’s radio-electronic warfare capabilities; a fifty-one-page Russian document on defending against the U.S. cruise missile; and a seven-page paper laying out tactics for the Vienna talks. On September 14, at 10:37 P.M., Kuklinski passed his materials to the CIA, and after returning home, he read the agency’s letter to him.
The CIA took note of the eighth anniversary of their collaboration. “Our greatest hope,” the CIA wrote, “is that we will one day, once again, be able to sit down with you and discuss our mutual interests.” A separate letter from “Daniel” told Kuklinski that he had been awarded the Distinguished Intelligence Medal.
This is the highest award in our profession, and only given for performance of outstanding service and for achievement of a distinctly exceptional nature, the results of which constitute a major contribution to the goals of our nation. The awarding of such a medal is usually the subject of much ceremony; however, this was awarded in secret with no one knowing your name―only that you have made an extraordinary contribution to the policies of the free world. I would like to tell the world about your efforts and contributions; but, of course, it cannot be done. I only hope that someday in the future, history will be able to acknowledge your tremendous courage and dedication to principle. I offer you my sincere and heartfelt congratulations on receiving this honor and hope someday I may present it in person. In the meantime, I will keep it for you with my most cherished and secure possessions.
“Daniel” expressed sympathy with Kuklinski’s health concerns and wished him a relaxing vacation.
I know how easy it is to fall into the coffee and cigarettes habit, and I hope you can reverse the trend because I do want you to be well and happy. . . .
I agree we must also begin to think about retirement from our work together, but find it very difficult to offer you advice on this matter. Our cooperation is such a large part of both of our lives, I’m afraid we’d both feel unfulfilled without it. As you recognize it’s not time yet to sit at home and tend the garden. Someday, however, younger men must take over and continue our work. The exact timing of retirement is very difficult and, really, only you can make that decision, knowing what your physical and mental capacities are and how much longer they will last. I don’t want you to retire too soon (it would leave a tremendous gap in our knowledge). But even more upsetting would be if you waited too long to retire and were not able to enjoy your well-deserved peace and quiet. What I am saying is that timing is critical, and you are the best judge of what time is appropriate. I don’t think I have to say that our friendship is forever, no matter when your decision is made....
Esteemed friend, in this complicated and changing world, no one shows greater courage and dedication than you do. I only hope that you are not asking too much of yourself. Remember, we all have our limits, although yours appear to be endless. Always remember, no matter what the future brings, our friendship cannot be terminated and will endure and grow in strength forever.
For always,
Daniel
On September 19, 1980, CIA Director Turner, responding to Brzezinski’s request for an assessment of the chances of a Soviet invasion of Poland, sent an “Alert” memorandum to President Carter and his senior advisers. “Soviet military activity detected in the last few days,” the memo said, “leads me to believe that the Soviet leadership is preparing to intervene militarily in Poland, if the Polish situation is not brought under control in a manner satisfactory to Moscow.” Kania, the new Polish leader, might be allowed some time to try to resolve the matter, Turner wrote, but if he failed, and “Poland’s role in the Warsaw Pact is called into question, the Soviets will threaten or employ military force.”
On September 21 a scheduled exchange between the CIA and Kuklinski was aborted because of the presence of “casuals.” The backup date was the next night. Before going out, Kuklinski wrote to Daniel expressing gratitude for the intelligence medal, the news of which he received “with unconcealed emotion.”
In this award, I find one more strong confirmation that my choice of the difficult but noble mission was justified and correct. I would also like to assure you that I am deeply aware of the enormous need for pulling out of the shadows of darkness of the tightly closed communist system everything which does not serve peace of the world and freedom of nations. In this conviction, I once more want to confirm my readiness to serve our common cause to the limits of my strength and capability.
Dear Daniel!
During the last months, I reanalyzed my situation again, and I came to the conviction that any kind of attempt to escape realities is much too early. Speaking of retirement, I never had in mind interruption of our collaboration, because this collaboration has become not only the essence but the highest goal of my life. I can truthfully say that only now, after eight years, I feel like a normal human being, and not a suicidal type.
My first step and outstretched arm toward collaboration were based primarily on spiritual premises void of sober calculation, and even of the slightest hope, for long-lasting success. This feeling of confidence (if in this kind of operation one can speak of confidence) developed only over a period of years. I never feel that I am a spying ace, but I have some basis for sober evaluation that during this span of time I succeeded in shaping certain character traits favorable to accepting and performing intelligence tasks.
Of course, I never feel safe. However, the acute feeling of a state of threat passed fairly long ago. Today, I am much better prepared for operations on behalf of our common cause than I was in the past. It would be a pity therefore to waste this capability. (More importantly, I would strongly resent any weakening of our ties.) . . .
Dear Daniel!
I value your friendship so much, the friendship you call “firm, immovable, forever.” I hope that regardless of circumstances which may cause your transfer to another sector of your responsible job, our contacts will be maintained. During those many years shared, you had the opportunity to learn, better than anybody else, all of my weaknesses as well as my strengths. You know that my family was always to me the most important concern. So in the name of our friendship, I charge you personally with the responsibility for their fate in an extreme case. I believe that the need will not arise, but I also believe that in the event of bad luck, I can depart with peace of mind.
In order not to end this letter on a gloomy note, I hasten to assure you that I view the future with optimism. I feel completely well and composed. I will try to take into consideration―but I cannot guarantee the results―your advice concerning breaking the habit of drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes.
Sincerely,
P.V.