The Invisible Writing

by Les Weil

  Kolzov was a short, thin, insignificant-looking man, with a quiet manner and pale eyes, the exact opposite of the conventional idea of a famous reporter. He arrived, Russian fashion, half an hour late at our appointment, which was in the early afternoon.

  `Forgive me,' he said with his pale smile, `but I have a good excuse. I have been to a cinema.' `At lunch-time?' I asked, surprised at such frivolity. `Yes, we were very naughty. We were playing truant. You will never guess who else.' I didn't. The other two lunch-hour movie visitors had been Litvinov, incognito, and Alex Rado. Kolzov then explained that the three of them had been students together at some Swiss University-Geneva, I believe--and had remained friends ever since. At the University they had been called `the triumvirate'. Since then they only met rarely, and always celebrated such occasions by some stag-outing.

  I was much amused at the time by the idea of the Soviet Union's Foreign Minister sneaking away from a diplomatic conference to go to a movie with Alex and Kolzov. Yet a year or two later, Alex became the head of the Soviet espionage network operating from Switzerland, which means that he must have already been an important agent at the time of which I am speaking. That he nevertheless risked being seen in public with the Russian Foreign Minister was a capital offence against the conspiratorial code, yet somehow typical of Alex Rado. It is in keeping with my image of him as the fat boy being caught secretly smoking cigarettes in the school lavatory, and confessing it with an awkwardly apologetic smile.

  My job came to an end after a few months. Whether the agency closed down, or whether it merely dropped the German edition, I do not remember. Nor do I know to this day whether it had simply been one of the stillborn enterprises of the Comintern, or whether it had served at the same time as a cover--address, or rendezvous place, for couriers of the network. If this was the case, I must have been completely fooled, for I never noticed any strange visitors enter Alex's room, nor any other suspicious goings-on.

  I lost sight of Alex a short time later, when the Spanish war broke out. The rest of his story is told in Alexander Foote's book. In brief outline it is as follows.

  Rado arrived in Geneva in 1937 to take up his post as director of the main (and later, the only), Red Army intelligence network operating from Switzerland. His official position was that of a partner in an old-established and respectable firm of Swiss map-makers. When the war broke out, most of the strategic maps that appeared in Swiss newspapers were drawn by Alex. Foote describes him as `very short and fat and speaking six languages fluently.' He goes on to say: 'Rado ... lost his nerve in the end, but "Mary" [Lene] was never affected, and ... it was her influence that prevented Rado from breaking down earlier.' This I can well believe, though Foote, who was Alex's successor and, according to his own statement, the direct cause of Alex's eventual liquidation in Moscow, does not hide his dislike for his former chief.

  Despite this obvious bias which runs all through Foote's book, Rado's achievement comes out as simply fantastic. Through one of his agents, 'Lucy', alias Selzinger, Alex succeeded in establishing direct contact with the German High Command. He was able to provide Moscow, through his short-wave transmitters, with the `up to date, and day to day, order of battle of the German forces in the East'; and even to give on request the position of individual German divisions of which the Russians had lost sight. It was an invaluable contribution, which directly affected the course of the war on the Eastern front, and enabled the Russians to make their successful stand before Moscow. (Since the above was written, the secret surrounding the incredible 'Lucy' has been lifted in the course of a trial before the Swiss Federal Tribunal in Lucerne. 'Lucy's' real name was not Selzinger, but Rudolf Roessler, he was a former German citizen. I am quoting from the Manchester Guardian's report on the trial: 'Roessler was one of the main wartime "contacts" of Admiral Canaris, the head of German Intelligence, and of the anti-Nazi group of officers. He was publisher of the Nova Vita in Lucerne, but his actual function was to supply daily battle orders and other vital military intelligence to the Swiss. Without their knowledge, however, he also kept in touch with the Soviet network operating from this town, and he is said to have given warning to Moscow three weeks before the German invasion ...' )

  Foote unintentionally makes it clear that all this was due to Rado's personal courage and initiative: `The Centre [i.e. Moscow] was extremely suspicious, and at first advised Rado to have nothing to do with it [with Lucy's sources]. Even after Lucy had disclosed the date of the German attack on Russia some two weeks in advance, and checkbacks had shown that the information was correct, the Centre [in Moscow] still refused to accept the information, and insisted that it must be some kind of plant. Despite the Centre's attitude, we continued to "plug" Lucy's information over to Moscow. Rado, in one of his few independent gestures of the war, was paying Lucy without prior sanction from Moscow and insisting that this information was valuable, indeed vital, to the Russian cause.... In the end, we managed to convince Moscow that this information was, to say the least, extremely valuable to them. ...' The `we' in this case is hardly justified, since at that time Foote only occupied a subordinate technical function in the network.

  Throughout the war, Alex pleaded with his superiors in Moscow, unsuccessfully and at great personal risk, for a sincere collaboration with the Western allies, particularly with England. He had, as I remember, always admired the British. The following quotation from Foote is relevant in view of what happened later on. It refers to 1943, when the German Abwehr (counter-espionage) and the Swiss police were closing in on the network, when several of its members had already been arrested, and Rado himself been forced to go into hiding:

  'Rado therefore suggested that the best thing for the network and him, self would be for him to take refuge in the British Legation (there was, of course, no Soviet representation in Switzerland, and the nearest Soviet official was in Ankara or London). Once there, and safely inside the hedge of diplomatic immunity, the network could continue functioning as before, with the one difference that the British would have to be brought into the picture. Rado himself was not in touch with the British, but "Pakbo", through his cut-out "Salter", the Balkan Service attache, made the approach, and Rado received the reply that the British were prepared to harbour him if necessary. The Swiss end of the deal was therefore settled and he had only to square the Centre. I therefore passed on to the Centre Rado's request that he should be allowed to retire from the world and take refuge with the British. Almost by return transmission I received a most emphatic "No". The Centre added that they could not understand how such an old hand as Rado could even think of making such a suggestion, as "the British would track down his lines of communication and use them for themselves".

  `This idea of Allied co-operation rather shook Rado, but it was not in the least inconsistent with the attitude that the Centre had adopted on previous occasions. Once, in 1942, Rado had had in his hands certain documents and plans which would have been of great value to the British as well as to the Russians, but the material was so bulky that it was impossible for us to pass it over the air. He therefore had suggested that it be handed over to the Allies--through a suitable and secure cut-out, of course. The Centre's reaction was immediate. Rado received instructions to burn the information at once.'

  Rado then remained in hiding until, after the liberation of France, he and Lene managed to get to Paris. Foote was arrested in 1943 by the Swiss, spent ten months in prison, and then also went to Paris. Here both Rado and Foote got into touch with the Soviet Military Mission, neither of them knowing that the other was in Paris. For a fortnight they were separately questioned by Soviet intelligence, which kept each of them in the dark about the other's presence. They gave different accounts of the causes which had led to the eventual breakdown of the ring. Foote accused Rado of having embezzled part of the network's funds--a charge which in view of Alex's character and past history I find impossible to accept. Foote further accused Alex of gross negligence of the apparat's security rules--a charg
e based mainly on the fact that the ring's code-book had fallen into the hands of the Swiss police when they arrested one of Alex's collaborators. Alex himself was not informed of these charges until it was too late.

  On January 6, 1945, both Rado and Foote were sent off to Moscow in the first Soviet plane that left France after the liberation. Officially the plane was carrying Soviet citizens who had been prisoners-of-war in Germany and were now being repatriated to Russia. Both of them were travelling with Russian repatriation certificates.

  The plane travelled via Cairo, where the passengers spent two nights. Alex and Foote were sharing the same hotel room, and it was only here that Alex became aware of the accusations that Foote had levelled against him. In Paris they had only met on one occasion--at a dinner at the Russian Embassy, during which no business had been discussed. At that dinner Rado had been a little drunk, and had afterwards remarked that it had been the first occasion for many years when he had drunk more than one glass of spirits at one time.

  I now quote from Foote's account of what happened in Cairo:

  `We were due to spend two nights in Cairo.... Accommodation .., was short, and the manager said that we would have to share rooms. Rather to my surprise, Rado spoke up; it was almost the first time that he had opened his mouth since we had left Le Bourget, and said that he would share with me if I was agreeable.

  `I cannot say that he was a lively room companion. The first night he hardly said a word, and declined to come out with me into Cairo for a final fling. On my return from a pleasant and convivial evening he was asleep--or pretending to be. The second evening he was, if possible, even more depressed, but did become somewhat loquacious. He said that he feared we were in for a difficult time in Moscow, and compared our situation to that of a captain who has lost his ship. No explanation would convince the Director that it had not been our fault that we had lost the sources which the Centre valued so highly.

  `I attempted to reason with him and calm his fears. I pointed out that my arrest and the consequent breakdown of communications had been entirely the fault of the Centre. ...'

  Foote, according to his account, then informed Rado of certain developments in Switzerland of which Rado had not known, and which in fact did not incriminate Rado at all. What else Foote might have said during that conversation in the Cairo hotel room we do not learn, but during that conversation the unsuspecting Alex must have suddenly, and for the first time, realised that Foote was his enemy; for the account goes on as follows:

  `The information really startled Rado and he became more depressed than before. He bewailed the fact that he had not discussed the matter with me in Paris. Rather unkindly I pointed out that he had only himself to blame, as I had given him my address after our first meeting at the dinner and he had not bothered to come round. It was entirely his own fault that he was going to Moscow unaware of the true state of affairs, and as an old hand at the game he must know the danger of putting in reports without bothering to see if they tallied with the facts.

  `There was a long silence after this while Rado sat tapping his fingers on the small hotel table, lost in thought. Then he got up and left the room without a word. I never saw him again. The plane left next morning without him, and his hat, coat, and luggage remained in the hotel bedroom uncollected, mute evidence of a spy who had lost his nerve.'

  Six months later-i.e. in July 1945--Foote was informed by his superiors in Moscow that 'Rado had been brought by force to Russia from Cairo and that I might be confronted with him. In fact this never occurred.' Foote was further informed that Rado `would be shot for negligence in allowing his cipher to fall into the hands of the Swiss police, for falsely reporting that the network in Switzerland was liquidated, and for embezzling some fifty thousand dollars'.

  So much for Mr. Foote's account of Alex Rado's end. There only remains one episode to be filled in regarding Alex's stay in Cairo, based on my own, unfortunately sketchy information.

  Rado had, of course, embarked on the journey to Moscow of his own free will. He was worried because the discovery of the cipher by the Swiss was in fact partly and indirectly his own fault. On the other hand, this was a relatively minor offence compared to the invaluable achievements of Alex, for by the time the Swiss Police closed in on it, the network had virtually completed its task. Needless to say, if the embezzlement charge had been true, Alex would never have left for Moscow.

  Only in Cairo did he realise that he was walking into a death-trap. When he stepped out of the hotel, leaving his coat and luggage behind to avoid suspicion, he had hardly any money on him. The documents he carried on him identified him as a Soviet citizen, and it was on these grounds that the Russians eventually obtained his arrest and extradition by the Cairo police.

  Yet after leaving the hotel, Alex had cabled to Lene in Paris, instructing her to get in touch with the British authorities, to acquaint them with all the facts, and to obtain their protection against his being handed over to the Russians. The British were, of course, virtually in charge in Cairo, and they could easily check Rado's record through the British Legation in Switzerland. Yet even if, for one reason or another, they were not interested in Rado's fate, they ought to have prevented his illegal extradition to the Russians, as Rado was not a Soviet citizen and his repatriation papers were a fake.

  I don't know for how many weeks or months Alex stayed in Cairo, nor whom on the British side he approached in Cairo, and whom Lene approached in Paris. I only know that Lene's frantic efforts to save him were in vain. This is perhaps the most nightmarish aspect of the story. Yet it is only one detail in the vaster nightmare of the Western Democracies' bungling of their relations with Russia during the later period of the war, and the early post-war years. These political errors are now a matter of history; but the fact is rarely mentioned that thousands of Russian deserters and ex-prisoners of war were forcibly handed over by the Western powers to the Soviet authorities, and thus delivered to the firing squad or the forced labour camps. Alex Rado, the gentle, lovable, scholarly master-spy, was one of the victims of the Occident's guilty ignorance and homicidal illusions.

  PART IV.

  THE INVISIBLE WRITING

  1936-40

  Om n'est jamais si heueux, ni si malheureuz qu'on

  s'imagine.

  LA ROCHEFOUCAULD

  XXIX. A Confidence Trick

  0n July 18, 1936, General Franco started his insurrection. I was at that time writing the continuation of The Good Soldier Schweik in a sea­side village near Ostend, called Breedene. The advance that Willy Muenzenberg had paid me on the projected book enabled me to spend two months at this small Flemish resort where one could live cheaper than in Paris, and where a colony of German emigre writers had assembled, among them Joseph Roth, Irmgard Keun and Egon Ervin Kisch.

  After a week, it became clear that Franco's revolt would lead to a civil war of long duration, and with possible European complications. Spain was the first European country in which the new Comintern line, the People's Front, had been tried out and had led to a resounding victory for the Left­wing coalition; and also the first country in which the workers and the progressive middle class had jointly taken up arms to resist a Fascist bid for power. It was, from the beginning, a symbolic contest.

  A fortnight after the Spanish war had started, I returned to Paris and went to see Willy Muenzenberg.

  Since the beginnings of the People's Front, Willy's enterprises had become truly dazzling. In breathless succession he had produced a dozen or more International Congresses, Rallies and Committees. Among them were a Writers' Congress in Defence of Culture, a Committee of Vigilance and Democratic Control, and, most successful of all, the so-called `Amsterdam Peace Rally against War and Fascism'--forerunner of the Stockholm Peace Appeal. The part of Pablo Picasso was then played by the equally innoccnt Henri Barbusse. Barbusse's pacifist novel Le Feu was the forerunner of Picasso's `Dove', and Barbusse's book on terror, Faits Divers, the forerunner of Picasso's 'Guernica'. The main task of the
`Peace Rally' was to advocate rearmament against Nazi Germany and to fight the pacifism of the British Labour Party--which was being exploited by the rival `Peace Offensive' of the Nazis.

  In his capacity as head of the Comintern's West-European AGITPROP Department, Willy was now in charge of the propaganda campaign in favour of the Spanish Loyalists. He had just formed the `Committee for War Relief for Republican Spain', with a`Spanish Milk Fund' added to it--imitating the pattern of the 'Relief Committee for Nazi Victims' and using, as before, a philanthropic cover for political operations. Soon the `Committee of Inquiry into the Reichstag Fire' was to be duplicated by a`Committee of Inquiry into Foreign Intervention in the Spanish War', whose public hearings followed the pattern of the Reichstag Counter-Trial. Willy produced Committees as a conjurer produces rabbits out of his hat; his genius consisted in a unique combination of the conjurer's wiles with the crusader's dedication.

  Willy told me that the Party had `raised certain difficulties regarding the Schweik project'--which meant that the book was off. He did not care, and I was rather relieved, for the real purpose of my visit was to ask Willy to help me to join the Spanish Republican Army (the International Brigade was not yet in being). With this in mind I had brought my passport along. It was a Hungarian passport, and in it was my press card as a correspondent of the Pester Lloyd. I had never written a line for the Pester Lloyd from Paris; but old Veszi, the editor, had, for old time's sake, provided me with a press card, which was useful in dealings with the Prefecture de Police, and for obtaining occasional free theatre tickets.

  Willy showed no enthusiasm for my plan. He measured human actions by their propaganda value, and saw no point in journalists wasting their time in the trenches. He thoughtfully fingered my passport, and my press card from the ultra-Conscrvative, semi-official Hungarian Government paper. Then he had an idea.