Gordon Corera has been the BBC’s Security correspondent for several years, which has afforded him considerable insight into the workings of the various agencies that make up the British intelligence service. In this book he offers a history of the major incidents and campaigns from the end of the Second World War until the ‘War on Terror’ following the 9//11 attacks in 2001.
Of course, with any book such as this, one is prompted to wonder how much has been left out, and what enticing and salacious stories have been left untold. Much of the material that Corera has included was already familiar to me (the world of espionage, whether in fact or fiction, having always caught my imagination), but his accounts are very clear (as one would expect from a veteran journalist) and accessible.
There were certainly some pretty dreadful howlers for the intelligence services, and MI6 in particular, throughout the period covered by Corera’s book. One problem is that, by their very nature, successful operations will not draw any media attention. Sadly, the failures garner all too much coverage. Some names, such as Guy Burgess, Donald Maclean, and John Vassall have now become synonymous with treachery. Looming largest among this roll of traitors is Harold ‘Kim’ Philby, who penetrated to significant heights within MI6, and seemed somehow able to stay in a position of sensitivity long after the security establishment had largely determined his guilt, even though there was insufficient (or, at least, insufficiently robust) evidence to support prosecution. Such a trail of disasters led almost to a sense of relief, or at least Schadenfreude, when traitors were also discovered to have penetrated MI6’s American counterparts.
The ‘establishment’ was clearly not above entering into a conspiracy of silence when it came to potentially embarrassing revelations. It was not until the publication of Andrew Boyle’s The Climate of Treason in 1979 that there was any acknowledgement that Anthony Blunt, respected academic, Director of the Courtauld Institute and sometime ‘Surveyor of the Queen’s Pictures’ had confessed to being the fourth member of the so-called Cambridge spy circle. Her had confessed some sixteen years earlier, but was allowed to retain his public status and positions, as well as his knighthood, which was only withdrawn following the outcry after the publication of Boyle’s book.
In fact, there has been a substantial history of acknowledgements only being prompted by the publication of journalists’ books, although these have sometimes strewn more confusion than fact. During the mid-1980s the UK Government entered into lengthy, expensive and ultimately unsuccessful litigation to prevent publication of Spycatcher, the memoirs of Peter Wright, a disaffected former member of MI6. As so often with works that provoke such a pre-publication storm, the book itself proved disappointing when it actually hit the shops. (I remember buying my copy from Collet’s, the left wing bookstore on Charing Cross Road, which was selling it quite openly during the period that it was supposedly banned.) Wright’s principal allegations were that Roger Hollis, former head of the service had been a ‘mole’, betraying important secrets to the KGB throughout his career, and that MI5 had consistently worked to undermine the government of Harold Wilson in the belief that he, too, was either a Soviet agent or had allowed himself to fall prey to undue influence from the Soviet Union. None of these claims were adequately substantiated throughout the pages of Spycatcher, and are not assigned much emphasis by Corera here.
This is overwhelmingly a story about men, with women playing very little part in the work of agents and officers. While the marvellous gadgetry and high living that proliferate throughout the James bond books were entirely fanciful, the rampant male chauvinism was not. For the most part, female members of MI6 were confined to secretarial roles. One notable exception was Daphne park, who led an adventurous career largely in Africa, where she presided over MI6’s observation (and participation) of the meteoric rise, and almost equally rapid demise, of Patrice Lumumba, who briefly held office in the newly-independent Congo. That whole episode does not reflect well on either MI6 or the CIA, although Park emerges as a courageous, empathetic and honest figure, who earned the respect of the Congolese with whom she came into contact, even to the extent that, unbeknown to her, a local chief despatched warriors to stand guard around her home while post-Independence riots raged around the country.
Corera may not have any startling new revelations to offer in this book, but it is an impressive addition to the espionage history canon.