National Observer Home > No. 65 - Winter 2005 > Articles
Lest We Forget: A Life in the Shadows
C.J. Ward
We are now in the fifth year of the new millennium. In the new century we
still remember the dead of the two World Wars and other arenas of conflict.
Anzac Day and Remembrance Day come and go with regularity and
we are still commemorating the anniversaries
of significant events of war — Korea being the latest. We remember
with sadness those who died and
celebrate with pride those who march
past. We have stood in all weathers
and watched as they pass — soldiers,
sailors, airmen, the women’s services,
nurses and children of the deceased,
proudly bearing the medals of their loved ones.
The marchers include those who have not been under fire but logistic
and support personnel who are behind
those in the field, and rightly so. The
ranks are not as straight as in their
heyday and, as the years advance,
numbers are thinned by age, incapacity
and death. However, heads are held high with pride and the returned do
their best to keep in step with the
many bands.
Those most traditionally honoured
are those from the Boer War and the
two World Wars — the war to end all
wars and the fight against the malevolence
of Nazism — honourable wars.
Thanks to politicians of various stripes, the place in history of those
who served in forgotten or unpopular
wars is now assured, from Korea, the
Malayan emergency, confrontation
with Indonesia and finally, at long last,
Vietnam. In a real way, both dead and
living have all come home from the
Boer War, the Gulf and East Timor
deployments. The misty-eyed reaction
of crowds who attend remembrance
services, stand to applaud or watch
marches in cities and towns across the
nation, show that we are as one in respect for the fallen and the returned.
And around the country in small towns wreaths appear on memorials and churches bear the names of the
dead.
However, we must ask ourselves
about men and women who have
served their country with equal dedication
but are not mentioned and do
not appear among the ranks of the
marchers, unless they have a military
background. I refer to those for whom
there are no memorials, marches or
public recognition — those who served
during the period of the Cold War in
Australia’s security and intelligence
services. And now, in 2005, we are
hearing, from both the United States and former Soviet sides, the Cold War
described as World War III and the horrific prediction that the War on
Terror will be World War IV. True,
World War III was more of a war of
ideas and ideology and thus, for the
main combatants, a “cold war” fought
with guile, mind-games and, for the most part, little direct violence.
The policies of Kremlin leaders from Khrushchev and then Brezhnev
rested on the doctrine of “peaceful coexistence”.
In essence, this meant
there would be no direct military confrontation
between the Western and
Eastern blocs, thanks to the real threat
of Mutually-Assured Destruction
(M.A.D.) based on the sheer weight of
nuclear weaponry held by both sides
. . . This rested on the sure knowledge
that, in the event of a nuclear exchange,
mutual annihilation could occur
— a lesson learnt in the Cuban
Missile Crisis of 1961. Not that the
policy was infallible. There were high DefCon (Defence Condition) alerts on
both sides at the times of the Soviet incursion into Czechoslovakia in 1968
and unrest in Poland in 1980-82. A spate of Soviet defectors in the late
1970s — and, more importantly, intelligence
officers being run in place by
the West — revealed an apparent irrational
belief by Soviet leader Yuri
Andropov in 1983-84 that President
Reagan would launch a surprise nuclear
attack on the Soviet Union.
This
belief appeared to cause as much confusion
in the East as in the West, but
with Andropov’s timely death, the
threat of nuclear war receded.
Peaceful coexistence had its specific limitations. The spies and counterspies
of the major powers and their allies resulted in the odd casualty; but
the war was hot in Arabia, Africa, the Caribbean and Asia, where proxies,
such as Cuban and East German
forces, were widely used. Soviet Pact
régimes became established in South
Yemen and in Congo Brazzaville in the late 1960s, and in Benin shortly thereafter.
Then, in short order, South Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos fell to
communism, and Marxist régimes,
with Soviet backing, were established
in Guinea-Bissau, Ethiopia, Angola
and Mozambique.
As an important ally of the United
States, Australia was involved
militarily in South Vietnam and the
much-abused conscripts can now hold
their heads high. Both the Australian
Security Intelligence Organisation
(A.S.I.O.) and the Australian Secret Intelligence Service (A.S.I.S.) have
their veterans. It is true that very few
have died as a result of enemy action.
Old age, suicide and ill-health, particularly stress, are the main killers.
Yet we are in danger of forgetting the meaning and seriousness of the Cold
War. In a recent television program,
former K.G.B. Major-General Oleg
Kalugin said, quoting the ancient Chinese
military strategist, Sun Tzu: “The
objective is to win the war without
fighting.” Kalugin himself regards the
Cold War as the Third World War, and
he admits, “We [the Soviets] lost it.”
Ask yourself this: Is it really fifteen
years since the fall of the Berlin Wall
and the odious régime that propped it
up? And only twelve years since the
disintegration of the Soviet Union? Do
we forget so easily that for just over
half a century our defence has rested
on resisting communism ideologically
and in some cases militarily, if only as a minor ally of the Western powers?
Have we forgotten how lucky we are that the Cold War never erupted into
full-scale war, although at times, such as during the Cuban crisis and on occasions
during the Vietnam War, that appeared likely?
Of course, self-nominated key elites
in our society scoff at mention of the
Cold War. Some, including the overrated
Australian author Philip
Knightley, claim that it was merely a
game — a claim that reflects badly on
those who put it forward, but which
finds fertile ground among the ignorant.
Others regard it as one of those “other people’s wars” in which Australia
had no need to become involved,
such as Vietnam — and the most extreme
form of this argument apparently
extends not only to Vietnam but
to every war of the last century, conveniently
overlooking Australia’s role as part of the British Empire and Commonwealth.
All the while, the so-called new classes and their sneering accomplices
of the left excoriated our security and
intelligence services at every turn.
They highlighted the nightmare of episodes
gone awry — the Hilton bombing,
the Combe/Ivanov affair and the
A.S.I.S. hotel exercise. The successes
were not mentioned, partly because it
was wished to ignore them and mostly
because they could not be publicised.
Even now, death could be the result if
some were revealed.
Politicians are ambiguous about security and intelligence services, or
were so, arguably until the al Qa’ida
terrorist attacks on the United States
on the 11 September 2001, when suddenly
minds were clarified. Almost
overnight, security and intelligence
services became very necessary components
of defence after being starved
of funds following the collapse of the
Soviet Union, all in the name of a
peace dividend. In Australia, it is a
public disgrace that one far-left Attorney-
General of the country effectively
emasculated A.S.I.O. for two years and
a later incumbent of that office could
never refrain from sneering about
“cold warriors”. about the lethal intent of the Soviet
system needs only look to opened
Moscow archives.
These provide ample
testimony about the truth of stateinspired
terror, extermination at home and plans for foreign domination.
Even Mikhail Gorbachev, a seemingly decent man, cannot deny that the
aphorism “the evil empire” was well
deserved. Defectors from the Soviet
armed forces and intelligence services
have confirmed that their defence
policy was based on a nuclear first
strike and a tank dash to the Channel
ports: a latter-day blitzkrieg modelled
on that of the German Wehrmacht in
World War II.
The astonishing thing is that we
have people in this country who believed
implicitly (and often still assert)
that the former Soviet Union was an
errant child of socialism with pure
motives. Many opined from diverse
motives that it was a régime with
which they could deal reasonably and
in good faith. By a supreme act of cognitive
dissonance they have managed to rationalise the mass murder of millions.
Recent material from Moscow archives indicates the total of Soviet
citizens murdered by their own government
to be conservatively estimated
at 30 million. The Chinese are
estimated to have eliminated, by famine
or more direct means, over 50 million
of their citizens. Cambodia’s notorious
Pol Pot regime exterminated
between a fifth and a third of that
country’s population after the initiation
of its Year Zero. The resulting
mountains of skulls are in their way
as evocative as pictures of Nazi concentration
camps and Soviet gulags. It
almost beggars belief that régimes
based on mass murder find ready justification
in Australian educational institutions.
In some instances in Australia, individuals have co-operated with
agents of the Soviet Union, its allies
and their intelligence services, putting
loyalty to that cause ahead of that to
this country. That was the reason for
the establishment of A.S.I.O. and
A.S.I.S. As historic documents show,
this country was perceived to have a
problem with security during and after
World War II. Labor in government
had no option but to set up a security
service and attempt to identify
Soviet agents. From the start, elements
within the A.L.P. opposed the
establishment and activities of
A.S.I.O., and this organisation only
obtained professionalism with the replacement
of Mr. Justice Reed by the
then Colonel Charles Spry as Director-
General. It was Colonel Spry’s understanding
with the government of the
day that A.S.I.O. was the fourth arm
of defence and, if hostilities had broken
out, officers would have found
themselves in uniform. His drive ensured
that the first generation of
A.S.I.O. officers were capable and intelligent
— men who had served in the
X and Z forces, the army, R.A.A.F.,
R.A.N. and British services. Most of
these were quiet heroes who could march and did, yet were very reticent
about telling stories of their war to the next generation.
It became part of Labor folklore that the Petrov defection was engineered
to return the Menzies government to
power in 1954. The ensuing Royal
Commission into Espionage scarcely
helped douse the fire of opposition.
However, the eventual release of the
VENONA papers after the end of the
Cold War conclusively proved that
Soviet spy-rings did indeed operate in
Australia, and were no mere figments
of the imagination. The denial mechanism
within parts of the Labor Party
and amongst academics insisted that
the Petrov defection was a mere bagatelle;
but that has become disproved
conclusively with the passage of time
and the last amount of intelligence
that was passed to Western services
until late in the Petrovs’ lives. There
will be no retractions or apologies to
the memory of a courageous couple
who, fearing execution, decided to remain
in Australia with the assistance
of highly professional A.S.I.O. officers
and agents, most of whom are also long dead.
Over the years, A.S.I.O. has had many detractors and very few supporters,
at least in public. Such “luminaries”
as Phillip Adams, who writes for
The Australian, at one stage in March
1993, enjoined his readers to identify
and expose A.S.I.O. agents. Their
“crime” was to serve this country loyally,
but that would cut no ice with a
self-confessed ex-communist such as Adams. (How does Adams like being
the object of death threats now?) Others
against A.S.I.O. officers and threatened them and their families.
The Campaign Against Political Police (C.A.P.P.) was set up by left-wing
A.L.P. members and unionists in the
1970s to expose and abolish the “political
police”. The latter term is itself
but a myth. A.S.I.O. has no executive
powers: they reside with the Australian
Federal Police — or at least they
did, until the recent extension of
A.S.I.O. powers to combat terrorism.
For those of us who served during
those days, surveillance and harassment
by the communist Builders’
Laborers’ Federation (B.L.F.) were
part of the job. I endured it and evaded
it for the most part by travelling through back lanes of the city. Adhesive
in our car locks and the daubing of paint on house walls were annoying,
it is true, but nothing like a knock
on the door at 2:00a.m., as happened
in communist countries. The worst
activities against us were the phone
calls and threats to wives and children,
at all hours of day and night. If a person
or persons who caught the healthy
blast of a whistle from officers’ wives at 3:00a.m. is reading this, tough luck!
Carrying on a fear campaign against the relatives of intelligence officers is
little different from harassment of the
families of our forces who serve
abroad. At least, many of those have
the relative safety of army camps and
bases. Winners write history, it is said: but
not in this country. In the United
States and Britain, spies and agents of
communist powers are hunted down
and brought before the courts: there
is no statute of limitations. The same
situation does not hold here — the spies and spy-catchers are an embarrassment.
It appears that materials from K.G.B. archives, related to the
Australian scene, have been suppressed
by overseas intelligence services
with which we once had strong relations.
If released, archival material
could deal severe, possibly mortal,
blows to our security and intelligence
services even now. Material exists of
serious penetration of A.S.I.O. and the
government — charges so serious that
they have been hushed up. It remains to be seen whether more Soviet archives
in the possession of the British will be revealed.
Yet the chances of Soviet agents being exposed and jailed are non-existent:
treason will be seen to have prospered,
but the organisations that
helped to preserve our freedom will be
heaped with further scorn. As it is,
these organisations stand in grave
need of reform as the old armed service
spirit of these bodies has been systematically
replaced by generalisation
instead of specialisation and the conviction
of a series of Directors-General
that being an intelligence officer is no
different from being a public servant — a modern idea that would be anathema to Brigadier Sir Charles Spry (as he became) and men of his stature.
Such is not and never will be the case because of the nature of the work. Intelligence
is neither an art nor science
but an exacting discipline worthy of
substantial intellect. This is something
a majority of academics and those on
the left will never accept — that
A.S.I.O. could be professional and correct
in its assessments.
Intelligence officers live in the shadows.
They lead the double lives of a
professional schizophrenic and many,
if not most, have hidden the details of
their work from spouses and friends.
Subterfuge is stock in trade when no
natural cover is available. How many
people have necessarily been misled
by those who reticently explain that
the Attorney-General’s or Defence
Department employs them? The figures for divorce and suicide of Australian
intelligence officers compare with those overseas.
A career serving the
country does not always provide anything more than a fleeting intrinsic
satisfaction — certainly the financial rewards are marginal.
In 1999, the Prime Minister celebrated A.S.I.O.’s 50th anniversary
with selected serving and former senior
officers: very nice recognition for
the few. Others who have served a certain
number of years have received a
commemorative medallion and a certificate
of appreciation — the honest,
time-servers, rogues and traitors alike.
True or not, there is an anecdotal story
that, when A.S.I.O. proposed a medal
for meritorious service, the Prime Minister of the day asked what material
it would be made from and was
told plastic! To his eternal credit, Paul
Keating, who had little time for security
matters on a day-to-day basis, directed
that medals be struck in bronze
at the Australian Mint. “If it is to be
done, then do it properly” was his alleged
remark. Surely though, given
that political appointees to A.S.I.O.
and A.S.I.S. have been honoured with
Orders of Australia, those dedicated
souls who have only a medal that cannot
be shown should get a better recognition
— either in the normal medal
awards for service to Australia or in
the Military Division, for services to defence and national security.
This year, we have celebrated Anzac Day and will gather again on RememRemembrance
Day. We should also remember
those who served, but behind the
scenes — the men and women of Australia’s
security and intelligence services.
Many will be among the crowds
— fleeting figures, not seen for what
they are or were, but watching with a
greater appreciation than many others
of the many threats our country has faced and still faces.
No marching for them; no recognition. After the march, no drinks with
old colleagues; they just turn and slip
away. The memories of us and our
profound contribution to the security
of Australia will surely float away and
be extinguished like a cigarette end in
the rain-drenched gutter of history:
this travesty of justice should not be
allowed to happen. The nation owes us that, at least.
LEST WE FORGET: A LIFE IN THE SHADOWS
National Observer No. 65 - Winter 2005
