Deadly Deceits (32 page)

If an administration at any point decided it wanted a true intelligence service, it could be easily created. But it would not be enough merely to separate covert operations from intelligence. Accurate intelligence demands an atmosphere free of political pressure. One obvious solution revolves around identifying individuals possessing recognized ability, integrity, and flexibility and giving such individuals lifetime or long-term non-renewable appointments to a board controlling intelligence requirements and production. That board, augmented by top graduates of political science schools in one-year clerkships, would provide the independent analytical judgment necessary for valid intelligence. Expecting our system to grant that independent authority may be unrealistic. But trained analysts, working with all-source information, overseen by a “Supreme Court” of intelligence, would help to guarantee the production of accurate intelligence. Establishing a truly effective intelligence agency is no problem. The only problem is getting our leaders to want one, and that problem may be insurmountable.

APPENDIX.

THIS BOOK AND THE SECRECY AGREEMENT

The secrecy agreement that I signed when I joined the CIA allows the Agency to review prior to publication all writings of present and former employees to ensure that classified information relating to national security is not revealed. This provision seems logical and necessary to protect legitimate secrets. However, my experiences in getting this book approved show that the CIA uses the agreement not so much to protect national security as to prevent revelations and criticisms of its immoral, illegal, and ineffective operations. To that end, it uses all possible maneuvers, legal and illegal. Had I not been represented by my attorney, Mark Lynch of the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), and had I not developed a massive catalogue of information already cleared by the Agency's publications review board (PRB), this book could not have been published. The review of my manuscript carne in two basic stages, first on an initial manuscript that I wrote without editorial assistance, and second on a revised manuscript written following an editor's advice.

On February 26, 1980, I submitted the first version of the manuscript to the Agency for review and on March 21, several days before the mandatory 30-day review period expired, John Peyton, a lawyer of the Agency's general counsel staff who served concurrently as the PRB's legal adviser, called and asked that I come to a meeting on March 26. He moaned audibly when I advised him that Mark Lynch of the ACLU would accompany me to the meeting. At the meeting, held in the general counsel's office on the seventh floor of the Headquarters building in Langley, the government's side was represented by five attorneys – three from the general counsel's office and two from the Justice Department. Had I come to the meeting alone, I would have been the lamb ready for slaughter. Because of his participation in other sensitive Agency cases, Lynch had earlier been granted a high-level “Q” clearance, but even so the Agency required him to sign an agreement before he could participate in that meeting. Peyton then explained that the publications review board had made 397 deletions in my manuscript. I was surprised, because I had been extremely careful not to use classified information in the manuscript. Those 397 deletions exceeded even the 339 passages excised from
The CIA and the Cult of Intelligence
, a book by John Marks and Victor Marchetti that deliberately set out to expose Agency secrets. I later learned that the 397 deletions represented only a fraction of those initially demanded by the Agency's Directorate for Operations. When I notified Peyton that I would be represented by the ACLU, the Agency had quickly retracted its more capricious deletions, resulting in the
final list of 397 items.

Lynch suggested that he and I first be permitted to adjourn to a private room to review each item. When we finished the review, the full group reconvened. I said that almost all deletions appeared in some form in the
Pentagon Papers
. Ernest Mayerfeld, deputy general counsel, said if that was true he could not object to their inclusion in the book. The lawyers said that I should get together the next day with the Agency's freedom of information officer, Bob, to consider specific deletions.

After lunch and later at home I reviewed the Agency's deletions and matched each item with my source documents. I was overjoyed: all significant deletions were covered by supporting public data. My joy was premature.

Early the next day I met Bob, who during my last few years with the Agency had served as my boss once removed. A dedicated cold warrior, Bob was a tall, stocky, impressive man in his late fifties who had achieved supergrade status in the Agency and had served as chief of station
[19 words deleted]
.

Bob seemed as agitated as I, and it was obvious that he felt he was soiling himself by dealing with me. In less civilized circumstances we probably would have been happier fighting rather than talking. Early on Bob set the tone. “It's too bad you didn't work for the Israeli intelligence service,” he said. “They know how to deal with people like you. They'd take you out and shoot you.”

Bob then launched into a long monologue covering the vagaries of the secrecy laws, including details of the Carter administration's Official Disclosure Law, the Freedom of Information Act, and the various problems in their application. I impatiently endured this speech. I was most anxious to get on with the review, to produce my public documents, and to get the hell out of there.

We finally moved to the review of the specific deletions. The very first item caused trouble. Inexplicably the publications review board had deleted a reference indicating that the CIA conducted joint operations with Thai authorities. That relationship was so well known that books had been written about it, academic studies discussed it, pictures of CIA station chiefs appeared in the Thai press, and high-level Thai officials openly bragged in the media about CIA support for their organizations. Needless to say, I had not anticipated that the CIA would consider that relationship secret. If I could not admit that such a relationship existed, there was no point to the book since most of my observations were based on my six years with the Agency in Thailand. Fortunately I recalled a document from
The New York Times
edition of the
Pentagon Papers
entitled “The Lansdale Memorandum for Taylor on Unconventional Warfare,” which discussed specific CIA operations conducted jointly with Thai organizations.

When I told Bob about the Lansdale memorandum being in the
Pentagon Papers
, he appeared to be surprised. But he recovered quickly and said there was only one official version of the papers – the Department of Defense's 12-volume edition. After numerous phone calls a secretary brought in 11 of the 12 volumes—the one missing volume, according to the index, was the one that most likely would include the Lansdale memo. This really shook Bob. He suspected that someone had removed the critical volume. Later we did get that volume, but the Lansdale memo was not in it. I argued that the Supreme Court's decision in the
Pentagon Papers
case had placed that information in the public domain, and it certainly could no longer be considered secret. We argued back and forth and finally agreed to postpone decisions on this and other items relating to CIA joint operations with Thai
organizations.

Many deletions caused little problem. In some cases, where an ex-CIA official's affiliation with the Agency was well known, I had used that person's true name. The Agency objected. I felt the point was unimportant and agreed to substitute titles or aliases.

At one point I really became worried. Bob said that I must produce the document from which I had taken a direct quote. If I could not produce it, he warned that I would be accused of stealing secret documents. I had not deigned to steal any of the Agency's classified fantasy, but I was not sure that I could relocate that precise quote. Luck was with me that day, and a short scan of the research materials I had brought with me produced that quoted passage.

We referred the question of joint operations with the Thai police to the general counsel's office, which conceded that such information was probably not deletable. We continued our review based on the premise that I could discuss joint intelligence and counterinsurgency programs with the Thais. Even so, I could not mention my participation in programs with specifically named Thai organizations although I could substitute phrases to describe them. Also I was allowed, via footnoting, to replace a deleted item with information from a source document. By juxtaposition I hoped my meaning would be clear.

The next day I objected to the deletion of my very negative assessment of the Agency's long-term operations against mainland China. I produced a book,
Sub Rosa
, in which a former Hong Kong station chief, Peer de Silva, set forth his own lengthy, negative evaluation of those operations. I said Peer's book had been approved by the PRB and it had permitted him to state his opinion; therefore, I should be given the same privilege. Bob agreed and my critical comments, in modified version, were reinstated. From that point on I searched through books written by former Agency officials and cleared by the CIA, to locate items similar to deletions made in my book. By this tactic I was successful in reinstating numerous deletions.

We had a problem over naming specific CIA stations and bases – other than those already acknowledged – even though those installations were well known. The Agency's objection had nothing to do with secrecy. It instead applied to administering the Freedom of Information Act. Whenever the Agency acknowledged the existence of a station or base, the public could, under the act, demand documents relating to the facility. Although it seldom releases documents in response to such appeals, the Agency must by law physically check all such documents. By not allowing anyone to admit that a station or base exists, it avoids those requests.

Bob and I agreed to a modified version of my book. That weekend I made all the changes. On Monday morning I reviewed those changes with Mark Lynch and submitted the book to the deputy general counsel, Mayerfeld. In the interim Mayerfeld's office had reversed itself. He said
The New York Times' Pentagon Papers
had not been officially released, that the Supreme Court only ruled that it could not enjoin publication of those documents. Therefore, my discussion of liaison programs with Thai organizations might again encounter opposition.

That night I searched through the edition of the
Pentagon Papers
that Senator Mike Gravel of Alaska had entered in the official records of the Senate. I found that it included the Lansdale memorandum and therefore supposed that that constituted official disclosure. The next morning I happily relayed the news to Bob. He said members of Congress could say anything, so the Gravel edition did not count.
Official disclosure only occurs when a member of the executive branch of government performs that function. But how finely the Agency interpreted that statement I was yet to find out.

I immediately went to the Reston Regional Library to look for statements made by members of the executive branch relating to CIA operations with Thai organizations. I spent the day going through
The New York Times Index
, reviewing all entries under Thailand from the present back to 1954. The index mentioned one well-publicized incident, allegedly caused by the CIA, that generated riots in Thailand. Because of the furor, numerous American officials were forced to comment on CIA operations in Thailand. Some press accounts sourced their information to CIA officials in Langley and the United States Embassy. I felt those references constituted executive branch disclosure of CIA activities in Thailand. I called Bob. He asked if the articles named specific American officials – a mere reference to a CIA official in Langley did not count. I said that Ambassador William Kinter had made a statement. He asked if the statement was in quotes. He said reporters could write anything, and if the statement was not in quotes it did not constitute official disclosure. (Later after completing the review process I found a reference to a high-level CIA official making a direct statement concerning CIA operations in Thailand.
¹
I called Bob and asked if that did not constitute that ever-elusive official disclosure. He said no. That person had probably spoken unofficially and could be prosecuted for violating his secrecy agreement.) But as I continued to accumulate public evidence of the CIA's relationship with Thai organizations, Bob began to concede that I might retain relevant items in my book.

On Tuesday, April 8, I went to the Agency to rework the items deleted from my resubmitted version. I was not surprised to see that the Directorate for Operations had reversed itself in several key areas. Where its original deletions did not hold up, it merely changed its objections to apply to previously approved information.

China desk had changed its objection to my negative evaluation of its operations. The desk now claimed that the technique itself was classified. That technique, recruiting persons from the other side, was just slightly newer and less well known than prostitution. Of course if I could not discuss the technique, my evaluation would be meaningless. That night I went back to the Reston Library and cleaned out its shelf of books written by ex-Agency officials. Those books, some undoubtedly written at the behest of the CIA, discussed that “forbidden” technique in detail. By adding footnotes to those books, I was allowed to retain my discussion of that technique.

The Thai desk had also changed its position on material not initially marked for deletion—namely, the rural village survey program that I directed with Thai officials. The desk's original objection pertained only to my mention of working in liaison with Thais. When it became apparent it could not maintain that objection, the desk then claimed the technique itself was classified and must be deleted. This was ridiculous. Over the years I had lectured and passed out unclassified handouts describing the method. When documents reporting on those training sessions were located, the Thai desk had to drop its objection.