by John Barron
In sum, all the taped conversations, surveillance, investigations, and analyses showed that 58 and 69 were just what Boyle and Langtry knew them to be. After about six months, someone at headquarters, probably Ray Wannall, in effect said: Enough. Stop it. Let’s get back to fighting our enemies instead of our friends.
No one now challenged the loyalty of Morris and Jack, but doubters advanced a new thesis: SOLO had lasted so long that the Soviets must be aware of it. They were using the operation as a convenient means of smuggling money and using Morris and Jack as unwitting conveyers of disinformation.
Boyle and Langtry asked some questions. Did the Soviets want the FBI to know how much money they gave the American party, down to the penny? Did they want to empower the FBI at any time to create an anti-Soviet scandal and furor by proving that the American party was bought and paid for by them, and thereby effectively destroying the party? Would Brezhnev, Suslov, Ponomarev, Mostovets, and the Soviet leadership take time personally and repeatedly to consort with an American spy? Had they made the communist rulers of Eastern Europe collaborators in their scheme, or did they let them talk freely to Morris without revealing that he was a spy? What about Gus Hall? Had they informed him that his chief lieutenant worked for the FBI? And what about the KGB? Would it share with the FBI through Jack its most sophisticated equipment and communication procedures? And where is all this disinformation—just one example?
Well, the skeptics replied, if the Soviets had not yet realized that the FBI controlled the operation, they were bound to find out soon because the longevity and success of SOLO defied all odds.
When the FBI advised Kissinger of these fears—that SOLO might be or become a vehicle of Soviet disinformation—and that it was thinking of discontinuing the operation, he said nonsense (lore has it that he used another word). As Jim Fox said in his eulogy of Morris, Kissinger declared that no one was better positioned than he to evaluate SOLO intelligence and he would decide whether it was true or false. But he had to have the information SOLO produced. While he respected the judgment of the FBI, SOLO must go on and it would go on. Though Kissinger made no threats, the FBI comprehended that if it did not comply with his dictate, it doubtless would receive a comparable, and possibly less genial, one from the president.
THE THREATS TO SOLO from within the FBI abated, but the threats from without escalated as congressional committees expanded their investigations. Each morning Morris opened the newspaper, fearful of what he might read, and Boyle again warned Washington that he needed reassurance.
Accordingly, the FBI scheduled another conference in New York on October 10, 1975, four days before Morris was to depart for Moscow. Present were Deputy Assistant Director Thomas W. Leavitt, Section Chief Brannigan, the new New York SAC James O. Ingram, Supervisors Raymond Ruckel and David E. Houser, and Special Agents Thomas J. Devine, Boyle, and Langtry.
Referring to the congressional investigations, Leavitt said, “The times in Washington are not the happiest at the moment but things aren’t dull.”
Morris, who never learned that he and Jack had been investigated by the FBI, jumped to defend the FBI. “Regarding these illegalities they charge the Bureau with, I would say most things were done by the book. That was a sustaining factor for me. I started a fight against communism because of their extralegal methods, the unbelievable terrors. Maybe there were some capers like COINTELPRO [a counterintelligence program aimed at what the FBI considered to be subversive or terrorist groups; the Bureau has been accused of acting unlawfully in some of its investigations of these groups]. But I am talking about the organization as a whole retaining a legal outlook.”
Reiterating his daily fear of being exposed by some leak, Morris said, “It takes a pretty tough heart to work nowadays, especially inside the enemy camp, wondering whether you can go on when you see some of these stupidities. You ask, what are you working for?…
“If I am physically able, and unless Gus Hall has something different in mind, I should take off on a trip in a few days. The Bureau people in charge have to be on the lookout to prevent any bombshell while I’m on the road. With intelligence agencies on the griddle, you never know when someone will pull a boner or go crazy or give something out.”
Leavitt emphasized that measures to safeguard SOLO were more stringent than ever and that the intelligence it yielded was distributed only “at the highest levels, to the White House, the State Department, and sometimes the military” (it is unclear whether Leavitt’s failure to mention any distribution to the CIA was inadvertent or whether the Bureau had stopped sharing SOLO data with the Agency).
Ingram added, “You have men here in this room—your life is their life. Their entire life is devoted to you.”
His words evidently moved Jack and Morris. Speaking of the SOLO team and the FBI, Jack said, “Regardless of the present turbulence, we have reached a peak but not the peak. I never thought we would reach this level of perfection. I think that means they still trust us, though they are being careful.”
Morris said, “I have never run across anybody except dedicated men in the Bureau. The Bureau as a whole is the most dedicated organization I’ve ever known, maybe with the exception of the early Bolsheviks.”
HAVING FLOWN VIA LONDON and Prague, Morris arrived in Moscow on October 17, 1975, and tried more than ever to read obscure signs: Who greeted him at the airport? Familiar friends from the International Department, or new faces that might be those of KGB officers? How was he greeted—with hearty embraces or polite handshakes? Did the reception party have personal messages for him from Ponomarev, Suslov, or Brezhnev? Where would he be lodged, in his apartment or a suite at the party hotel off Arbat street or some place lesser and new? Would his escorts, after taking him to his residence, stay for a drink? How soon would he see Ponomarev, who, barring illness, always was the first Soviet leader he saw? Who else appeared on his schedule? How soon did the “special comrades” (the KGB) want to see him, and just how was their request to see him phrased? Was there any hint that he might have to stay much longer than planned? Would the Soviets maintain or raise the level of payments to the American party?
Most of the first signs were good. Friends awaited him at the airport and were delighted to join him for supper at the apartment. Ponomarev expected him at lunch the next day, Mostovets was counting upon him for dinner the day after, and the schedule outlined was crowded. Ponomarev received him as cordially as ever and, so far as Morris could discern, was genuinely glad to see him. He did say that, because of an unexpectedly poor grain harvest (more bad weather), the Soviets next year might have to lower the subsidy to the American party (in 1975 it totaled $1,792,676). Then at the end of lunch, Ponomarev mentioned that the “special comrades” had been making a nuisance of themselves and wanted to speak with Morris at his earliest convenience. Could he get them out of the way by letting them drop by the apartment that afternoon? Morris could only say, “Of course.”
Kazakov, the KGB officer who supervised MORAT (SOLO) from Moscow, and another officer whom Morris had not met accepted his invitation to pour themselves brandies, thereby signaling that they had not come to interrogate him. They did want his opinions. How much did he think the FBI knew about him?
Morris said that because the party had no sources in the FBI he could not be sure. Doubtless the FBI recognized that he was a communist; after all, he had run for public office as a communist and edited the party newspaper. He assumed that the FBI had some low-level informants in the party; probably it tried to keep an eye on Gus and thus might know that he and Hall saw each other. However, he had not been active in overt party affairs since 1947; he was old and, as any investigator easily could ascertain, his health was not the best, and he owned a legitimate business. Therefore, in his judgment, the FBI did not have much interest in him. About one central fact he was sure: The FBI knew absolutely nothing about MORAT or the money.
Kazakov courteously said it would be helpful if he could explain why he was so certain.
But there was a more basic reason why Morris was sure the FBI did not know about the money—the same reasoning Boyle and Langtry had used in speaking to headquarters. The FBI was a virulently anticommunist, semimilitary organization; in fact, most of its young agents were former military officers. If the FBI knew about the money deliveries, it could arrest everybody, including “special comrades,” and stage a prolonged circus that would sabotage détente, ruin the party, and land everyone in prison. The FBI would love to do just that.
In Russian, Kazakov said to his colleague, “You see, I told you.”
The other KGB officer replied in Russian, “Yes, he is remarkable.”
Turning to Morris, Kazakov said that his explanation made eminent sense and was very reassuring. Kazakov asked if they could meet again to discuss technical operational details and apologized for burdening him with such matters. It would be better to discuss them directly with Jack, and he wondered if Jack could resume his visits to Moscow.
Morris feared he could not. Because of a combination of emphysema, heart trouble, and other ailments, doctors had warned Jack against attempting long flights. That reminded Morris of something: He hoped that in the future, money deliveries could occur in the spring, summer, and autumn so Jack would not have to expose himself to winter weather.
The preceding June, Morris had made a quick trip to Moscow to obtain Soviet approval of a report drafted by Hall for presentation to the national convention of the American party. While there he learned that Aleksandr Shelepin had been purged from the Politburo after instigating or participating in a coup aimed at dethroning Brezhnev. Morris gathered that the infighting in the Kremlin had not entirely subsided. Now in October Ponomarev told him Brezhnev had secured his position and unquestionably would be reelected general secretary of the party (something Kissinger very much wanted to know).
Ponomarev also told him that upon further assessing the summit meeting between Brezhnev and President Ford, the Soviets were gloomy about the results and additionally were pessimistic about the outcome of the arms limitations negotiations being conducted in Geneva.
As Morris prepared to leave in November, Ponomarev announced that the Soviets would not have to reduce the 1976 subsidy as he earlier indicated. In fact, they could increase it to $2 million and very shortly they would give Jack the last 1975 payment of $350,000.
Flying homeward, Morris mentally composed reports and looked forward to telling Boyle the good news—that the KGB had completely accepted his explanation of why the operation was secure.
But in the United States, very bad news about SOLO again awaited him.
sixteen
UNDER SIEGE
MORRIS ALWAYS FEARED MOST that which he could not control. During decades of dueling with the Soviets, he made not one operational mistake; Jack made just one when he gave his Soviet handler Langtry’s notes instead of his own. Together, Morris and Jack long had outwitted the KGB and cynical tyrants who had helped raise the science of mass terror to a new apex. In difficult circumstances, they proved that if the outcome depended upon what they did, they could effectively control the outcome. They could not control the actions of the United States Congress or its ambitious young staff members. And there was nothing they could have done to prevent a Senate committee from demanding FBI files that would expose them and grievously damage the cause for which they continued to risk their lives.
The crisis that developed while Morris was in Moscow during October and November 1975 arose in part from events that occurred many years earlier and only tangentially related to SOLO. It had to do with civil rights leader and Nobel Laureate Martin Luther King. SOLO was never directed at King; neither Morris nor Jack ever met King or even indirectly dealt with King; neither personally knew anything about him. A few SOLO reports did, however, mention King, and other reports concerned people who became close to him.
To see what happened, we must look back into history and into the communist underground of North America.
During the late 1950s, the FBI retargeted SOLO, aiming it at the Soviet Union rather than at the American Communist Party. Morris and Jack continued, passively and incidentally, to gather information about party activities, especially those that might illuminate secret Soviet actions and intentions. But they and the FBI were vastly more concerned with maintaining the flow of secrets and money from the Kremlin than with anything happening inside the American party; to all involved in SOLO, the party mattered most because through it Morris and Jack could tunnel into the Kremlin.
In the early years of SASH/SOLO, when the objective was to infiltrate the American party leadership, Morris and Jack did provide detailed data about party activities and personalities. One personality they identified was Stanley David Levison, a New York lawyer and business entrepreneur.
By 1946 Levison, then thirty-four, had gained admission into the inner circle of the communist underground. One of his sponsors and mentors was William Weiner, who administered party finances and the reserve fund, the cash hidden for emergencies. Weiner was a friend of Jack and of Sam Carr, the Canadian communist and Soviet espionage agent who attended the Lenin School with Morris and whom Morris and Jack later befriended.
Jack in early debriefings told the FBI that beginning in 1946 Weiner and Levison conferred frequently, and that Levison helped establish party business fronts and collected money from party “angels” in Hollywood and on Wall Street. (Morris confirmed that Levison consulted him while setting up party businesses in Chicago and Michigan.) Jack also advised that, in 1946, Levison gave Weiner $10,000 for the party and Weiner asked Jack to hide the money in a safe deposit box.
Weiner in 1952 instructed Jack to go to Levison’s office and meet another underground member with whom he was to cooperate. In 1953, Levison warned Jack that an FBI agent had visited the party business front in Chicago and he offered Jack $200 to help him found another front. In 1954, during a meeting with Jack at the Statler Hotel, Levison said that, as a result of the death of Weiner, he had assumed responsibility for party finances. In 1955 Phillip Bart, the underground secretary who brought Morris back into the party, said that Levison was active in party work. And in 1956, Bart told Jack that Stanley Levison and his twin brother, Roy, who had changed his name to Roy Bennett, were now in charge of party business.
Jack in 1958 reported a conversation with James Jackson, the party secretary in charge of “Negro and Southern Affairs.” Jackson claimed that he and Eugene Dennis had conferred with the “most secret and guarded people who are in touch with, consulting with, and guiding [Martin] Luther King.” Though he pretended not to know their identities, Jackson characterized them as “party guys far removed from the top level but [who were] playing an important role in guiding these fellows [King and associates].” Jackson thought that “this group may be important in Negro work.”
Unbeknown to Jack or Morris, Levison in the 1950s met King and subsequently attached himself to the young civil rights leader as a personal confidant and advisor. At the behest of Levison, King later employed Jack O’Dell in the
Southern Christian Leadership Council. Morris identified Jack O’Dell as Hunter Pitts O’Dell, a secret member of the party’s governing body, the National Committee. In November 1959 Jackson revealed to Jack that O’Dell was working full time for King and that Levison worked closely with O’Dell.
On May 6, 1960, Jack reported: “Hunter Pitts [Jack] O’Dell is working full time in connection with the King mass meeting to be held in Harlem on May 17, 1960. Working closely with O’Dell are Stanley and Roy Levison [Bennett]. The CP considers [the] King meeting of the most importance and feels that it is definitely to the Party’s advantage to assign outstanding Party members to work with the [Martin] Luther King group. CP policy at the moment is to concentrate upon Martin Luther King.”
At the time, King was not the object of FBI investigation but his intimate association with Levison and O’Dell sounded alarms, and in 1961 the Bureau decided it should alert the newly elected president, John F. Kennedy, and his brother, Attorney General Robert Kennedy. No one could have been more sympathetic to King than the Kennedy brothers. During the 1960 presidential campaign they publicly defended him and demanded his release from an Alabama jail, fearing he might be killed in his cell. The Kennedy administration had no higher legislative priority than enactment of a federal civil rights law forbidding discrimination against (or preferential treatment of) any citizen on the basis of race, creed, or ethnic origin and guaranteeing every citizen equal access to public accommodations. Thus, hoping to save King and the civil rights movement from embarrassment, President Kennedy and Attorney General Kennedy cautioned King that, by personally associating with and relying upon Levison and O’Dell, he was putting himself and the civil rights movement in jeopardy. King equivocated, then continued to associate with O’Dell and Levison, both openly and secretly.