The Spy Who Tried to Stop a War

by Marcia Mitchell

  A rather disarming statement made by the young woman arrested for leaking Frank Koza’s message was destined to become the media’s sound bite of choice, the headline of dozens of news stories – a motto of sorts. The media unabashedly loved it and still do.

  ‘I have only ever followed my conscience.’

  PART IV

  THE LEGAL CASE

  CHAPTER 11: The Blonde Who Dropped the Bombshell

  Katharine Gun, a former GCHQ civil servant, today has been charged with offences under the Official Secrets Act relating to public interest disclosures allegedly made in the run-up to the Iraq War.

  Note to editors: This case is likely to put the legality of the Iraq War on trial.

  – From a 13 November 2003 Liberty press release

  FOR EIGHT MONTHS, Katharine Gun hoped the government would decide not to charge her for the crime to which she had confessed. If the case against her were dropped, the public – and even most of her colleagues in the secret service – would never learn that it was she who revealed the NSA message. After so many months, the prospect of being charged had seemed to fade. Surely, she told herself, again and again, the government would have acted by now if it intended to do so.

  The 12 November call from Liberty informing Katharine that she would be charged the following day was a devastating blow. It left her trembling and breathless in a fog of disbelief and denial. As much as she should have been prepared, the reality of what was happening was crushing. Thoughts of having her name in headlines, of seeing herself on television news, made her physically ill. Among the montage of mental images were friends, neighbours, former intelligence colleagues, classmates at Birmingham – all of whom would be shocked. Gone was the fantasy of simply vanishing ‘under the rug’ to live the rest of her life in peace. The rug had been pulled out from under her.

  Katharine had just one day to prepare for what she knew would be a media onslaught following her court appearance and announcement of the charge against her. With a subdued Yasar, she made detailed plans to elude an eager press. There was little rest that night, the worst she had experienced since her arrest.

  On 13 November 2003, Metropolitan Police Special Branch officers made their formal charge at Cheltenham Police Station. In a brief, one paragraph indictment, Katharine Teresa Gun was charged with violation of Section 1(1) of the Official Secrets Act of 1989.[1] The accused was bailed to appear at Bow Street Magistrates Court on 27 November. It was over in a matter of minutes.

  Liberty immediately issued a press release announcing that it was acting for Katharine Gun, ‘a former GCHQ civil servant who has today been charged with offences under the Official Secrets Act’. Those offences, said Liberty, ‘related to public interest disclosures allegedly made in the run-up to the Iraq War’.

  Katharine made a statement on her own behalf. It would receive worldwide attention (or almost): ‘I have been charged with offences under the Official Secrets Act. Any disclosures that may have been made were justified on the following grounds: because they exposed serious illegality and wrongdoing on the part of the US government who attempted to subvert our own security services, and to prevent wide-scale death and casualties among ordinary Iraqi people and UK forces in the course of an illegal war. No one has suggested (nor could they) that any payment was sought or given for any alleged disclosures. I have only ever followed my conscience.’

  Katharine could not imagine, at the time she made her statement, the lasting relevancy of her exposing ‘serious illegality and wrongdoing on the part of the US government’. Four years later, people around the globe were still debating the legality of the war and wrongdoing in support of its initiation – politically and ethically still hot topics. More than a few members of the US Congress who had given George Bush a green light to attack were regretting that decision and questioning the war’s legality. As the election year of 2008 approached, candidates of both major parties pointed Iraq War fingers at each other, accusing, explaining, reacting. Casualties, even though their numbers decreased following the Bush administration’s military ‘surge’, were regrettably still a tragic fact of everyday life. They were impossible to ignore, despite a thoughtful government’s shielding the public from the discouraging sight of those flag-draped coffins returning from the war zone.

  In her statement, Katharine Gun had fired a potent shot and hit her target square on. At the time, however, the words that attracted most media attention were these: ‘I have only ever followed my conscience.’

  By now, Yvonne Ridley had left London to work in Qatar for Al Jazeera as a senior editor to help launch its English website. The day Katharine was charged had special meaning for her.

  ‘Out of the blue, I was fired from my job and told I was a “threat to national security and the beautiful state of Qatar”. I always remember that phrase with a smile,’ she says. ‘I was informed at around ten o’clock at night on exactly the same day – and the corresponding GMT time – that Katharine was charged. Coincidence? Who knows?’

  As predicted, a tense game of hide-and-seek followed news of Katharine’s court appearance. ‘I knew my name would come out and everything would change,’ Katharine says. ‘I didn’t think they would tell my address, didn’t think that it would appear in the newspapers. But in the end, it didn’t matter, because the tabloids were determined to find us. They came searching, scouring the neighbourhood, looking everywhere, asking questions.’ For a full week the press continued its pursuit, ‘desperately trying to find’ the Guns.

  The mainstream press covered the story upfront. Typical headlines were, ‘GCHQ whistle blower charged’, and ‘Ex-GCHQ officer preventing war’. It was a journalistic field day. The identity of the young woman who tried to nix the war plans of a British prime minister and a US president was now revealed to the world.

  ‘Ms Gun, a GCHQ translator,’ wrote the Guardian on 14 November, ‘was arrested in March – more than eight months ago – at a time when it was reported that America’s National Security Agency, the US equivalent of GCHQ, was conducting a “dirty tricks” operation.’ The story also noted that Katharine had ‘only ever followed my conscience’.

  Tabloid photographers were after ‘lifestyle’ pictures, the kind of images sought in high-profile criminal cases – on a ‘pictorial fishing exercise’, says Katharine. Reporters went to Yasar’s brother, the only person in the local directory named Gun. They quickly surmised that since Katharine wasn’t seen with her ‘husband’, the young marriage had not survived the wife’s perfidy, and she was in hiding, alone. In fact, Katharine had escaped to her grandmother in Yorkshire, and Yasar was hiding out with friends – their plan for eluding the paparazzi a success.

  ‘I don’t think my grandma realized at the time how serious it was, but my great-aunt heard it on the news and lay awake every night worrying, as I did. I felt frightened and powerless.’ Katharine’s parents shared those feelings, wanting to help, yet knowing that all they could offer at the moment was ‘a shoulder to cry on’, she says. ‘Dad, the worrier, managed to keep a typically British stiff upper lip – you know, “keep your chin up, and we’ll get through this”.’ Contacted by telephone in Taiwan, Jan Harwood gave a brief statement to the press. Her daughter was not a criminal.

  Katharine Gun was now famous – or infamous, depending.

  On 27 November, Katharine appeared at London’s Bow Street court in what was a legal administrative formality. She confirmed her name and address. Liberty lawyers were at her side. Senior district judge Timothy Workman granted unconditional bail and set 19 January for the defendant’s next appearance at Bow Street. At that time, a magistrate would decide whether to send the case to a Crown court.

  Outside, Liberty read a statement from Katharine: ‘I have today indicated to the court that I intend to plead not guilty to the charge that I face under the Official Secrets Act. I will defend the charge against me on the basis that my actions were necessary to prevent an illegal war in which thousands of Iraqi citizens and Brit
ish soldiers would be killed or maimed.’

  Katharine repeated her earlier statement about payment and conscience, adding that she had been ‘heartened by the many messages of support and encouragement … received from Britain and around the world’.

  On 18 January, the day before Katharine would hear the lower court’s decision, the Observer reviewed the NSA operation for its readers – just in case anyone had forgotten what all the fuss was about.

  ‘The document urged Britain to join in a dirty-tricks operation,’ reminded the newspaper. It also predicted that a trial against Katharine Gun ‘will call into question the legality of the war’, adding that ‘Most experts in international law believed then that intervention would be illegal. Many still do.’

  It would be misleading to imply that all media reports about the case were supportive. There were those that castigated Katharine and found what she had done to be traitorous and abysmal. They reflected passionately negative views abroad in the land. Some were from intelligence and government circles, where fervent hope simmered in various protective cauldrons that the former GCHQ translator would get what she deserved – a goodly amount of time behind bars.

  The lower court’s decision came quickly and was exactly what was anticipated. After all, the Crown had had more than eight months to study its case. Thus, on 19 January 2004, Katharine Gun was committed for trial at the Old Bailey for violation of the Official Secrets Act. As before, the hearing was expected to be little more than the formality of binding Katharine over to the high court; however, there was a significant hitch. Her former employer was determined to keep Katharine quiet. Even with regard to working with counsel.

  ‘GCHQ has imposed a blanket restriction on the ability of Katharine Gun to give instructions to her lawyers,’ Liberty solicitor Ben Emmerson complained. The ultra secret agency had banned its former employee from saying anything to her lawyers about her work, a gag order Emmerson vowed to get lifted as soon as possible. He did so, but not before there was a great deal of nattering about the fairness of refusing a client full access to her counsel.[2]

  Katharine was scheduled to appear at the Old Bailey on 16 February. At this point, there were predictions that she would go on trial at the historic court sometime in the autumn.

  Finally, the US media took at least a modicum of interest in the Gun case; apparently, it was now considered safe to do so. Frank Koza’s message had been e-mailed nearly a year ago, and there were sufficient new Iraq-related issues to worry the general public. The reason for the media’s sudden (if limited) interest in what was happening in England was a statement signed by a group of American celebrities, names that would make news whatever – or whomever – they were supporting.

  During the weekend, just before Katharine’s Monday appearance in court, Hollywood actors Sean Penn, Danny Glover and Martin Sheen, civil rights leader Jesse Jackson, feminist Gloria Steinem, famed whistle-blower Daniel Ellsberg, Newspaper Guild president Linda Foley (as an individual, she stressed), and prominent others issued a press release honouring Katharine Gun and urging that the US media inform the public about her case. They asked elected officials to express their concern to the British government. It was an extraordinary petition, given the preponderance of pro-war sentiment in the United States at the time.

  Because of the celebrity status of the document’s signatories, at least a few Americans began to take note of the NSA spy scandal and the young woman who had revealed it. A few bits and pieces appeared in various media, but not enough to enlighten the public as a whole. And some who did take note no doubt wondered. Should the words of Sean Penn and liberal pals of that ilk be dismissed out of hand, or was there something of substance going on here?

  New York Times columnist Bob Herbert thought there was. He wrote on 19 January, the day Katharine was committed to trial at the Old Bailey, ‘Katharine Gun has a much better grasp of the true spirit of democracy than Tony Blair. So, naturally, it’s Katharine Gun who’s being punished.’

  Herbert pulled no journalistic punches. ‘We are not talking about a big-time criminal here … someone who would undermine the democratic principles that George W. Bush and Tony Blair babble about so incessantly, and self-righteously, even as they are trampling on them,’ wrote Herbert.

  Colourful, outspoken, the late Texas columnist Molly Ivins took up the cause and, with her usual bite and passion, wrote, ‘Friends of liberty, raise hell! To the barricades, or at least to the post office and the e-mails.’ She urged her readers to contact the British Embassy or the Institute for Public Accuracy on Katharine’s behalf. ‘It is not a good idea,’ she said, ‘to set things up so that people get punished for telling the truth – or even re-elected for telling lies.’[3]

  From 12 November onwards, once the shock of being charged and becoming a media phenomenon had lessened, Liberty’s Tabard Street office and the legal experts who resided there became Katharine’s life. The few available quiet moments she spent in solitude with Yasar, except for rare hours with a handful of loyal friends. She no longer worried about photographers, no longer hid from public notice. She simply had no time for all of that. There was work to be done if she was to avoid years in prison.

  It was inevitable that the press would now come to call Katharine Gun ‘the blonde who dropped the bombshell on Tony Blair.’ Increasingly, his government was being pictured as having been led into egregious wrong doing by a skinny cowboy in an oversized Stetson, an image sharpened by the media’s attention to Katharine’s deed and its impact on Downing Street.

  The blonde had indeed dropped a bombshell on Tony Blair. But that same bomb had exploded on George W. Bush, the only difference being that he failed to notice.

  CHAPTER 12: Deportation Revisited

  I always seem to be writing to you in a bit of a state. I wish that I could be cheerful and have good news for you.[1]

  – Katharine Gun

  KATHARINE GUN WAS not the only one dropping bombshells. The British government had one of its own, targeting not Katharine but her husband. This is not to say that what they did, or tried to do, was illegal or prejudicial. Having said that, one can be excused for wondering about the timing of it all. Recently charged with a serious crime against the people of the United Kingdom, Katharine suddenly found herself in another conflict with the law.

  She begins, on a cold January day: ‘At lunchtime, as was true every week, Yasar had to go to the police station to sign a piece of paper for immigration purposes. We knew after the first deportation attempt, two weeks following our marriage, that his status was still insecure, but we didn’t know just how insecure. We found out soon enough.

  ‘Because it was so cold, I waited in the car outside the station. Yasar seemed to be taking his time. Suddenly, two young girls came out of the station and asked, “Are you waiting for your husband?” I said that I was, and they said, “He’s been taken into the cells by the police.”

  ‘Terrified, I jumped out of the car and dashed into the police station. It had been less than ten minutes since he left me, but there was no trace of him in the reception area. I asked the lady officer behind the desk what was going on. She cheerfully responded, “Your husband is going back to Turkey.” I almost shouted at her, “How can you say that? He’s my husband! You can’t take him away!” All she could say was, “It’s out of our control; this is an immigration matter.”

  ‘I tried to see Yasar, but the officer wouldn’t let me. She showed me his deportation papers, and there it stated, quite clearly, that he was booked on a flight to Turkey scheduled the following day.

  ‘I left the station weeping and cried the whole way home. Luckily, my dad was staying with us, as he had a Chinese New Year teaching break from his Taiwan university. I opened the door and sobbed, “They’ve taken him again.” He looked aghast. “The bastards!” he said.

  ‘I knew I had to do something in a hurry. We’d chosen a new lawyer to act on Yasar’s behalf after the first one seemed to do very little. This woman, extremely
considerate and efficient, promised to do what she could. Next, I called my member of Parliament, Mr Nigel Jones, who was a Liberal Democrat. His was the only party that officially opposed the war in Iraq. He was in a meeting in London, but his assistant said she would beep him urgently. I was frantic, but I kept trying, calling anyone I could think of who might be able to help.

  ‘Nigel Jones managed to corner a minister for home affairs, Beverley Hughes. He suggested that to deport Yasar at this time would look like state bullying, as I had been charged two months earlier. She seemed to agree. Our lawyer argued that since my passport had been taken away during my legal proceedings, I would be unable to join him if he were sent back to Turkey. This could be considered a breach of our basic human right to a family life. I knew we had a case, but was terrified that the immigration officers would fail to get news of what was happening in time to stop the deportation process.

  ‘By now, I still hadn’t spoken to Yasar, and it was getting frighteningly late. Eventually, that evening I managed to speak to him on the phone. I reassured him that we were doing everything possible to stop his deportation. I tried not to cry, tried to sound strong and encouraging. But he seemed resigned to the inevitable. It was heartbreaking.

  ‘The next day I rushed down to the police station with fresh clothes, hoping that the immigration officers had been informed of efforts to stop the deportation, and that my husband would be let go. Perhaps he already was free! But when I arrived, the police officer in charge told me that he was already on his way to Heathrow Airport.