Last of the Cold War Spies

by Roland Perry

  But had these pushes and pulls within him been resolved? They had originally been caused by his hidden espionage work clashing with his desire to be a public figure. Now his public role would be limited to The New Republic. At 34 years of age, had he—as he maintained—changed enough to be content with such a minor voice?

  President Truman announced on September 23, 1949, the explosion of Joe 1, the first Soviet atomic bomb. An excited Teller, who was working at Los Alamos, phoned Oppenheimer to tell him.14 In October he told fellow scientists that the United States should go ahead with a superbomb. Teller was certain that the Russians would decide to create their version. Better, he thought, to make the weapon first in the United States as an insurance policy. Yet with key scientists such as Oppenheimer, Szilard and Fermi cautioning against this huge escalation of the arms race, Teller would have to lobby hard to achieve his wish. Communism had made him, like Nixon, a man on a mission determined to make his name in history. A secret debate began in Washington with less than a hundred people over whether the United States should build the superbomb. There were advocates for and against the concept at the AEC and in the congressional committee on atomic energy. Some at the Defense Department joined in, as did a handful of the most accomplished scientists.

  Truman was lobbied from different directions. He was more inclined to take advice from Dean Acheson, his secretary of state; Louis Johnson, his secretary of defense; and the Joint Chiefs of Staff than he was the scientists. The military were adamant that they could not let the Soviets push ahead. Acheson was more troubled but thought it would be intolerable for the United States to fall behind. The scientists, led by Oppen-heimer and Fermi, recommended a program to expand the production of uranium and plutonium. They were categorical in not wanting to make the superbomb a priority, although it was to be considered. It was not enough for Teller, who by-passed committees. His argument was compelling. How could the United States afford to let the Soviet Union develop such a weapon that would give it world military superiority? The fear factor was at its feverish best as the military fought for increased funding.

  That fear influenced the president. On January 31, 1950, he directed the United States to develop the superbomb. Teller had won his long-held dream. The KGB would now once more have to step up its vigilance and espionage with U.S. scientists involved in this new, more vital program.

  Alger Hiss, the erudite diplomat and Harvard-trained government lawyer, was convicted of perjury in January 1950 and sentenced to five years in prison. The courts had not found him guilty of espionage, but as the perjury conviction was involved in the claim and counterclaim of Hiss and Chambers, Hiss was perceived by the majority of the media and the public as a Soviet agent. It heightened the concern over communism and laid the groundwork for Senator Joseph McCarthy to use the issue in his drive for national political recognition.

  On February 9, McCarthy began the biggest witch-hunt in U.S. history, which was counterproductive to combating real subversives. In addressing the Republican Women’s Club at the McClure Hotel in Wheeling, West Virginia, he claimed he had the names of 205 communists in the State Department. There were no penetrating questions from the women, only collective breath-sucking. The next day he made a speech in Salt Lake City, Utah, where the number dropped to fifty-seven “card-holding” communists at State. Again, the audience in the conservative Mormon city only shook their heads in dismay or nodded approvingly. Ten days later McCarthy made a wild six-hour speech on the floor of the U.S. Senate, saying he now had the names of eighty-one communists, including “one of our foreign ministers.” For those who stayed awake through the throaty monologue, there was intermittent uproar but little protest.

  In two weeks he had accentuated the Great Fear throughout the nation. A chain reaction of events followed that turned a frightened mood to an atmosphere of hysteria. The Tydings Committee was formed in the Senate on February 23 to investigate McCarthy’s accusations. Then on March 1, Klaus Fuchs and Allan Nunn May were arrested in the United Kingdom. March 7 marked the beginning of the second trial of Judith Coplon, a Justice Department employee who became the first U.S. citizen convicted of being a spy. (The conviction was later reversed because the FBI had gained evidence by illegal wiretaps.) Straight became enmeshed in the furious claim and counterclaim. He wrote in his autobiography that his secret espionage work caused him to have a continuing fear and sense of guilt. Yet as a journalist he still had to cover the week to week allegations about espionage.

  Because no one in the United States, except for his wife, knew of his Soviet connection, he could maneuver himself into any position he wished without worrying that anyone such as Eliot Janeway could stand up and accuse him of being a communist in the United States, let alone a spy. Janeway knew he had been a card-carrying member of the U.K. Party, not of the U.S. one. And even if an accuser spoke, Straight could brush aside that period as an adolescent aberration, which he often did. This allowed him to put on his true liberal façade to attack McCarthy editorially on both the substance of his allegations and their effect on civil liberties; this way, he was not seen to be defending communism. But in order to keep inquisitors at bay, he had to create a new image—that of the subtle anticommunist.

  16

  THE ANTI-COMMUNIST

  Straight’s fabricated new image as an anticommunist had already been presaged in his formation of the “neutral” faction of the AVC. It received a chance for a more definitive airing when he received a call early in 1950 from a HUAC committee member accepting his offer to appear before a hearing on legislation to outlaw certain un-American and subversive activities.

  It centered around debate over the Mundt-Nixon Bill (proposed by HUAC members Karl Mundt and Richard Nixon), which directed that the government act against “communist political organizations by, among other things, forcing them to register with the government.” It was viewed by liberals, communists, and conservatives alike as a prelude to a complete banning of Communist Party membership in the United States.

  Confident in the knowledge that no one knew his deep secret, and secure because of the legal protection he could afford, Straight seemed to relish the opportunity to appear in front of the HUAC, which he had requested on behalf of the AVC, an organization known to have problems with communists. Straight was by then its chairman.

  Straight entered the hearing on March 22, 1950, well armed and prepared with left-wing lawyer Leonard A. Nikoloric, whom he had hired to “advise” the AVC on the Mundt-Nixon Bill. Nikoloric was with one of Washington’s most powerful law firms, Arnold, Fortas & Porter. He was also an AVC member.

  Straight looked serious as he sat in front of the eleven HUAC committeemen, lawyers, and investigators. A clerk tapped away as HUAC counsel Frank S. Tavenner asked Straight the infamous query that became synonymous with the feverish hunt for communists that would become known as McCarthyism: “Are you now or have you ever been a member of the Communist Party?”

  Straight must have blanked from his mind his membership in the Communist Party of Great Britain. He replied that he wasn’t, and never had been, a member of the (U.S.) Communist Party. He may have justified in his own mind that he had not lied, for he had belonged to a foreign party. If Straight were nervous, it did not at first show as he launched into a diversionary attack on the Mundt-Nixon Bill. He and Nikoloric had prepared a legal brief, which explained that the bill was unconstitutional. It attempted to legislate by fiat and punish people “for association and opinion without the safeguard of common law.” This would “open up not only the Communist Party but other organizations . . . to a threat of prosecution for holding adverse opinions to the normal trend of the time.”1 This view was held by many fair-minded, noncommunist intellectuals, and Straight felt confident he would be supported in this approach that diverted from the main thrust of the bill.

  He gave an example: “The Veterans of Foreign Wars, as a principal opponent of this Bill, had declared, as had the Marine Corps League, that the ‘world-government
movement’ is treasonable . . . ” HUAC member Bernard Kearney interrupted and challenged him on the claim. Straight seemed caught, but he skipped away from the congressman by stating: “Advocates of world government are placed in jeopardy if this bill were considered constitutional.”

  He then launched into his new position as an anticommunist:

  We share much of the opinion of many witnesses who have appeared before this committee that the Communist Party is partly directed from abroad by a foreign power. We believe it does advocate the overthrow of the Government by force and violence. We believe . . . the Communist Party is used as a reception center and training ground for espionage agents on behalf of a foreign power.

  Straight added: “However, we do not believe that the Communist Party is a clear and present danger.”

  This seemed to be a contradiction; the Communist Party was wanting to overthrow the government by force, and it was secretly bringing in many espionage agents. But Straight was also saying it was not a danger to the government. Perhaps he was saying that the party’s advocacy of violent revolution was waffle, just words, a bluff from a paper tiger too insignificant to cause any serious problem. This debate would be picked up by the committee later in the hearing. For now, he forged on:

  We do not believe it can be isolated, and that it can be found to be concentrated in a very few front organizations such as this bill supposes. On the contrary, we believe the Communist Party can be found to be working in a very broad field of political organizations, perhaps in some organizations that have testified against this bill.

  He was going too fast for the committee. Some winced, others scribbled, and most stared. Bubbling down in the deep crevasses of some of their minds was the question of how this articulate, ivy-league-type witness with the rounded vowels and intense, patrician demeanor knew so much about this outpost of the Evil Empire. But the question never quite surfaced. Straight kept his response, now a lecture, coming in a torrent:

  We recognize the Communist Party will be affected by legislation passed by the Congress, but we think nonetheless the advances and retreats made by the Communist Party in American life are made at the fighting fronts of organizations in which the Communist Party is attempting to carry its policy.

  His argument was convoluted as he attempted to bamboozle the HUAC members with a lather of words. He seemed to suggest that it was better to take the communists on in battles in organizations they had infiltrated rather than to take action against the party. In the one breath, he was telling them that there was a problem, bigger and more furtive and insidious than they had imagined. And yet it was better to play by the Marquis of Queensberry rules and fight the good fight. It was almost as if he were saying that it was more sporting this way and good for the democratic system to have angst, disagreement, and subversion in every kind of organization.

  His thoughts were tumbling too quickly for the committee’s consumption. A problem was that the smart communists, Straight informed them further, were brilliant at fudging who was a red and who was not. He hardly drew breath as the HUAC members sat listening to their bemusing expert in communist subversion. Kearney’s forehead creased most. He wanted to challenge him again, but Straight was too quick and clever. He brought the hearing back to Kearney himself:

  Mr. Kearney, you know that in your home town of Schenectady a fight has been waging for a long time between communist leaders and the electrical workers. From a superficial knowledge of that fight, I can’t believe it will be resolved by what is done in Washington. I think it will be resolved by what is done is Schenectady.

  It was almost an argument for getting rid of the legislature and returning to a political wild west. But he had sidetracked Kearney, who could only comment: “[It will be resolved] by the union.”2

  “That is right,” Straight said, figuratively patting his questioner on the head. Mouths opened to speak, but the verbal hare was away again, this time telling the attentive audience how the AVC had been “infiltrated.”

  “As far as we know they [the communists] assigned some of their top veteran leaders to capture our organization,” Straight said. “That fight went on for four years. The noncommunists, such as Mr. Nikoloric and myself, counterorganized. We had for a time two caucuses working with considerable secrecy.”3 (This remark was in direct contradiction to Cord Meyer’s assessment. Straight never worked against communists. All the evidence and Meyer’s testimony point to him being the key organizer for the communists.)

  Just to befuddle the listeners even more, he added: “We had to adopt some of the communist tactics to combat them.” Straight then made a comment with which Cord Meyer would have agreed: “In the course of that fight the noncommunists demonstrated their ability to out-think and out-work the communist minority.”

  The committee’s chairman, Francis E. Walter, butted in: “Wasn’t that due entirely to the fact you were able to spot the communists?”

  “No,” Straight corrected him like a college professor. “That is a very important point. We could not today name a single communist in our organization who was active.” He couldn’t even name a single communist sympathizer, he told them, “which is precisely why we have come here today to explain our views.”4

  There were many tough reds under the bed (5,000 at least at one time inside the AVC), Straight was warning, but they were invisible. Yet the noncommunists could still beat them almost every time. He went on to explain that “they” had driven all the communists out of the AVC. Then to complete the scenario, he concluded: “We set a pattern for all responsible organizations to follow.”

  Committeeman Harold H. Velde got in a question about labor union membership, but Straight had virtually taken over the chair. He started answering his own queries: “I would like to raise this question: would it help in this kind of struggle we have been through to have the kind of legislation [the Mundt-Nixon Bill] now before you? I would think it would not.”

  He then explained that it would drive the Communist Party underground. That would mean no Daily Worker, where the invisible communists put out the “signals” for their next move. Therefore an observer wouldn’t know what insidious members were doing.

  Straight pointed out that the noncommunists drove a wedge between them and the communists by fighting them on certain issues such as the Marshall Plan, which “appealed to a great majority of noncommunists. We made the fight on the Atlantic pact and military assistance.”5

  This again was untrue. Straight’s “third way” inside the AVC was meant to split the noncommunist vote and so defeat it. Straight now conveyed an image of the anticommunist who was nevertheless concerned with the attack on civil liberties if people were prevented from joining the party.6

  Kearney asked if the AVC had suffered from introducing an anticommunist resolution. Straight was adamant that it had, which was not the experience of Meyer, his anticommunist faction, and Kearney himself. He asked why was it that other veteran organizations “who always introduce such a resolution annually have not suffered?”

  A small chink in Straight’s verbal armor appeared as he replied, unconvincingly, that it was because “we are smaller,” meaning it had been reduced in size. Velde wanted to know how small.

  “Approximately 8,000.”

  “What was your top membership?” Kearney asked.

  “20,000.”

  Straight failed to inform the committee of the organized history of the communist infiltration, which he knew well. There was no mention of the 5,000 directed in 1946, and others afterward, into the AVC. He described the influx of communists in After Long Silence—three decades after the event—in a way that would have excited the HUAC and made headlines at the time. Communist applications from all over the country filled up sacks of mail early in the year. Straight said the committee approved them without thinking why there had been such a sudden burst of people wanting to join the smallish veterans group or where they might be coming from. The revelation of what might be afoot, Straight claimed, c
ame two months before the AVC’s first convention when its two largest area councils in Los Angeles and New York were “suddenly” controlled by communists.7

  Straight, of course, knew all along what was happening. He was the mastermind behind the influx of communists.

  The information about the 5,000 and other information would have given the HUAC a broader perspective. But Straight wasn’t about to give them further data to make their own case and expose him as a KGB agent. Under the guise of the helpful volunteer informant, he was confusing the issue, which was becoming his specialty.

  Kearney wanted to know if the recent drop off in numbers was due to the Merchant Marines leaving. They contained the communist element.

  “We lost very few of them,” Straight said. He evaded that line of probing by adding, “The fact that we had to make this fight cut down our membership.” Then he slid into another extraordinary (and revealing) monologue:

  We think the Communist Party might be a threat in the event of a depression, as it was in the last depression, and we don’t want to see another depression. We think the Communist Party might be a threat in the event of another war, and we don’t want to see another war. We think the Communist Party is on the run, and we think it can be kept on the run by continuing prosperity.8

  Straight would attempt to articulate this “avoid-war-and-keep-prosperous” argument better in The New Republic. His next claim was more startling: “We believe if it becomes a clear and present danger, then by that time communism will have triumphed in the rest of the world before it becomes a threat in this country. We think the critical front is in Berlin, Southeast Asia, India, and Rome.”9 Straight had named some of the battlegrounds, both political and military, on which Stalinists would fight before tackling the United States.