From his years as America's point man in Vietnam to his mysterious death in 1996, William E. Colby was one of the most enigmatic figures of the Cold War. Whether it was in CIA operations against Russia, anti-Communism in Western Europe, covert action in Southeast Asia, or its involvement in the Watergate affair, Colby stood at the center of the agency's secret activities. Lost Crusader for the first time uncovers the real story of this master spy, from his beginnings in the OSS to his tumultuous years as Director of Central Intelligence in the 1970s. Reviled by many outside the CIA for his role in Vietnam, he was later cast as a scapegoat by the Nixon White House during the Church and Pike congressional investigations of CIA activities. Based on extensive research and interviews with key participants, John Prados offers new revelations on the CIA in Western Europe and a fresh analysis of the notorious Phoenix program in Vietnam, and the most authoritative account of agency involvement in the bloody Indonesian coup of 1965 that overthrew Sukarno and brought General Suharto to power. Moreover, Prados has uncovered new evidence on the CIA's role in the 1963 assassination of President Ngo Dinh Diem of South Vietnam and also furnishes the first account of the action at the top level of the CIA during the final demise of South Vietnam in 1975. A masterful study of a master spy, Lost Crusader offers vital insight into the Cold War, Vietnam, and the inner workings of the CIA.
Dr. John Prados is an American historian & researcher whose primary areas of specialisation are the history of World War II, the Vietnam War, the Cold War and politico-military affairs generally. He earned his Ph.D. from Columbia University in Political Science (International Relations). Dr. Prados is a senior fellow and project director with the National Security Archive at George Washington University (Washington, D.C.).
The book is fairly comprehensive, and Prados covers Colby’s time in OSS, in OPC and, of course, his CIA career. He describes Colby’s time in Italy, Vietnam, and his later posts in CIA leadership. He attributes Colby with a lack of vision as DCI, contending that he had a basic desire to simply avoid controversy. Prados relates how the White House wanted Colby to assert more authority but failed to give him authorities and support necessary. He also covers Colby’s involvement in episodes like the Yom Kippur War, the Glomar Explorer, the firing of Angleton, the collapse of South Vietnam, and the congressional investigations. He also argues that the White House actually approved Colby’s briefings to the Church Committee, despite their later claims.
The writing is pretty dry, like many of Prados’s books. The book doesn’t really offer any new insights or information, and doesn’t really flesh out Colby’s personality. Also, when discussing allegations of CIA drug trafficking in Southeast Asia he quotes Tran Van Khiem without mentioning his troubled mental history. When reading the book, you never really get to know Colby as a person, maybe due to his bland personality. Many events are described in which Colby’s involvement seems unclear. Some more backstory on HT/Lingual would have helped. He describes the CIA’s mistreatment of Yuri Nosenko, but does not cover why they mistreated him so badly (the belief that he knew something about Lee Harvey Oswald) Also, Prados gives Colby more credit for intelligence reform than Colby himself ever claimed, as far as I know.
Some statements are unsupported, like Colby giving the Indonesian Suharto regime target lists to repress the local communists. He also writes that Angleton’s mole hunt put a hold on the Agency's Soviet operations (it did?) He also writes that RIchard Helms gave control of the budget to the executive director (not McCone?) He also writes that McCone supported Diem due to both of them being Catholic; other accounts will tell you McCone’s reasoning was pragmatic.
There’s some small errors as well. At one point the A-12 Oxcart is called the SR-71 Blackbird. Vint Lawrence is also called “Vincent.” Prados refers to Norwegian resistance forces as maquisards. George Kennan is called “George M. Kennan.” Prados writes that Colby's nickname was “Mother” (he had a nickname?) There’s also a few typos.
A thoughtful and well-researched biography overall.
Lost Crusader is a solid biography of William E Colby, director of the CIA from 1973 to 1976, focusing mostly on his significant accomplishments and occasionally on his serious lapses in judgement. My prior experience with Colby is from Valentine's The Phoenix Program, where Colby's anondyne Congressional testimony is contrasted against the brutal reality of Phoenix in the field. In Valentine's book Colby appears as a clear villain, but the reality is likely more nuanced.
Colby is very close to an archetypical CIA spy. Born in Minnesota to an army officer, Colby grew up in foreign stations around the world, attended Princeton, and joined the Army as an officer in 1940. He volunteered for parachute training, and then the OSS Jedburgh program, where he was parachuted into France and then Norway to aid local guerillas against the Nazi occupation. After the war, he joined the new CIA and set up stay-behind networks in Sweden and provided political assistance to the non-Communist Left in Italy. An ideological anti-communist liberal with an Ivy League degree, the only thing that marked Colby as different was his Catholicism, slightly out of line with the WASP establishment that defined the CIA.
In 1959, Colby was assigned as deputy station chief to Saigon, marking the start of a decade working in Vietnam in a variety of roles. Colby was committed to both pacification and President Ngô Đình Diệm. He was one of voices arguing against the 1963 coup, and for a unified command for civilian efforts which eventually became CORDS. Colby served as Division Chief for the Far East and later CORDS director, where he was responsible for the Phoenix Program.
One thing this book fails to square is Colby's committed idealism with many many compromises the CIA made in Vietnam. Covert war is hard to manage without covert funding, and associated corruption. However, the CIA's Air America massively facilitated the drug trade in South East Asia, and Colby appears to have at minimum turned a blind eye. Likewise, while the goal of Phoenix was to identify and "neutralize" high-ranking Viet Cong cadres, it rapidly and inevitably turned into a arbitrary detention and assassination program. Most tellingly, fewer than 20 Category A senior Viet Cong leaders were killed by Phoenix, and only 1 as a result of a targeted operation as opposed a random ambush. The vast majority of locals affected were Category B (tax collectors and the like), or Category C, which included anyone who made a pragmatic accommodation with the Viet Cong at any point.
After Vietnam, Colby returned to Langley, where he became CIA director in the midst of Watergate. Colby had the unenviable position of having to wind down an overgrown post-Vietnam covert warfare division, clear out decades of deadwood senior officers, finally get rid of the paranoid James Jesus Angleton, reform dissemination, and handle the release of the "Family Jewels" report. Colby wasn't responsible for the Family Jewels, which chronicle decades of CIA misdeeds from assassination missions to domestic surveillance to MKULTRA, but he did have to clean up the mess. This was arguably Colby's greatest success. Stonewalling would have likely seen the CIA defunded and broken up entirely, while a flawed release process could have seriously jeopardized national security. Colby's timed release and acquiescence to political realities protected the agency at the cost of his own career.
The book opens with the final act, Colby's mysterious disappearance in the Chesapeake Bay in 1996, but in this case, despite the drama of a missing spymaster the simplest solution is likely right. The 76 year old Colby had some sort of cardiac incident, fell out of his canoe, and drowned. His body was eventually found, and frankly, in the 90s its unclear who would have cared enough to kill him. Colby didn't lose the Vietnam War (that defeat had many fathers), but he didn't win it either. Ultimately, his legacy is preserving the CIA past 1975, for better or worse.
When McGeorge Bundy, President John Kennedy’s National Security Advisor, heard William Colby, the CIA’s Director of Far Eastern Affairs, discuss his ideas about pacification in Vietnam, he responded, “You may be right, but the structure of the American government probably won’t permit it.” John Prados’s biography of Mr.Colby, “Lost Crusader,” is a cautionary tale. Colby, a member of the Greatest Generation, vigorously embraced the twin pillars of twentieth century liberalism: extensive regulation of economic and social arrangements at home, and aggressive interventionism abroad. It is ironic that these convictions- widely held within the intelligence community- served to bring Colby’s career to its nadir; like a Shakespearean protagonist, Colby was brought down by the same qualities that fostered his ascent.
Born in St. Paul, to a modest family, Colby went on to Princeton, started at Columbia Law School, and then became a figure of heroism in the OSS as a guerilla fighter in France and Norway. A labor lawyer, Colby left New York, then joined the CIA after the war.
Colby did yeoman’s work in Denmark and Italy-doing psywar activities- and gained the notice of his masters. His journey to southeast Asia was ordained.
Colby’s involvement in Asia was marked by Operation Phoenix, the program to pacify the Vietnam War by relocating villagers into secured hamlets to better control access and egress of Viet Cong agents. Operation Phoenix did not originate from Colby, rather the evidence suggests that Bob Komer, a USAID officer, designed Phoenix, which led to a number of dubious programs, and deathly excesses. Prados asserts that Colby was made to fall on his sword as Company director, largely because of widespread anti-CIA sentiment throughout the government and the nation.
In the wake of Vietnam and Watergate, supporters of Richard Helms may find fault with Prados’s review of Colby’s final days in office, but his account of Colby’s suspicious death in 1996 offers plenty of interesting possibilities.
Those of us who are familiar with the American intelligence community will find this book instructive. Others may be repelled; nonetheless, Prados has written a balanced and scholarly book.
What a slog. I thought it might be interesting and there were a few bright moments of interest but my god what a bore this was. Way too much detail manages to destroy any interest in the subject, Bill Colby. I still don’t really know too much about the man. Mainly the book focuses around Colby as we run off into the weeds we seem to forget him.
Steer clear here. If you ever meet the author, the details Will get you too.
On the second-to-last page of this book, Mr. Prados writes: "Bill Colby deserved better than he got from the denizens of both the agency and the White House". As far as I am concerned, the late Mr. Colby, for whom I have a great deal of respect, also deserved better than he got from John Prados...
Not because it was not worth reading - John Prados is always good for a readable book, one of my favorite authors - but because the subject did not get to me at the time I read it.
But I will give it a try at a later time, for sure.