Espionage
The enemy left behind
Richard Chancellor
It is now eight months since the defection of a responsible officer of the KGB, Oleg Lyalin, from the Soviet Delegation in High gate, and the silence of officialdom about anything which touches Russian clandestine activities gives no reassurance that anything of any significance has been done to repair our tattered defences against the continuing Soviet campaign of subversion and espionage. The public has been in danger of getting punch-drunk as a consequence of the monotonous series of spy trials, most of them stemming from the information that Lyalin provided. In our easy-going society, this kind of constant repetition has led many people into a kind of tacit acceptance of the view that Russians are in some way rather 'special ' and that the Soviet rules of international behaviour, however dangerous they may prove to be to this country, can be reconciled, some how, with the vanished world of oldfashioned diplomatic relationships for rhich the professionals of the Foreign Service pine. Inevitably, too, we are ex periencing the subconcious British reaction to all unpleasantness that does not affect us directly as individuals — "Don't look now, and perhaps it will go away." There is a second and greater danger. It is the conspiracy of silence into which the Foreign Office and the Government seem to have entered as regards any Russian activity that may convey an impression of active hostility towards this country — a conspiracy which extends to a wide section of our left-orientated news media. Why, for example, cannot we be told about the "many more (espionage) cases, some of them very serious, known to me and doubtless to you also," referred to in Sir Alec Douglas-Home's letter to Mr Gromyko of August last? Why do we hear almost nothing of the intense ' visa-war ' now in progress — so reminiscent of the pressure exerted on us by the Russians even as allies in wartime? Why have we had no follow-up to that intriguing BBC programme which appeared at the time of a recent spy trial and which referred to Soviet plans for sabotage against key installations in this country, utilising a local fifth column, assisted by saboteurs landed from Soviet submarines? And why, finally, have we never been told the truth about the negotiations which preceded the exchange of Gerald Brooke for the Krogers — the simple truth that the Soviet government threatened us with the judicial murder of Brooke if their conditions were not met in toto? Trumped-up charges of illegal trading while in prison meant that this unfortunate hostage was faced with new penalties — a further prison sentence, and this time at a 'corrective establish ment' in the Arctic. The victim's state of health ensured that, unless the British yieded and freed the Krogers, not many days would have been left in the life of Gerald Brooke.
There is little doubt that the enemy which was left behind last September has re-grouped and is seeking new points of entry into this country in order to regain the ground lost. In hatching new schemes it is counting on the favourable breeding ground inside the British Foreign Office which it has enjoyed and to which it has become accustomed over the years. It knows that, in the sacred name of détente, in the rather pathetic attempt to reactivate, with Russia, the co-chairmanship of the defunct Geneva Conference on Viet nam, and in the expressed wish not to embarrass the Ostpolitik of Herr Willy Brandt, the Foreign Office will have plenty of excuses to keep silent over new Soviet manoeuvres in the latest phase of the un derground conflict. The enemy is certainly busy. There is the prospect of a Soviet Embassy in Dublin, which could pay rich dividends in the form of unrestricted access by KGB agents and couriers across the uncontrolled border between Eire and the United Kingdom. Meanwhile it is stepping-up the visa-war, knowing from experience that it can be used effectively to wring favourable concessions out of the 'apologetic weaklings' (alas, not my phrase) who direct British foreign policy.
With Byzantine subtlety, these favourable factors will all be exploited to support a major gambit which has been kept in reserve against just such an emergency as faced the Russians last September. This is based on a written agreement — the Anglo-Soviet Consular Convention, signed in Moscow in December, 1965, though not ratified by Parliament until August, 1968. We should be wise to remember that it was not until this document had been signed that the British Consul in Moscow was at last allowed to see Gerald Brooke. For securing what in civilised countries would be considered a normal act of humanity, our negotiators paid a heavy price.
In replying to a Parliamentary Question in March, 1966, Mr Walter Padley stated baldly that "The Anglo-Soviet Consular Convention accords to staff at consular posts privileges and immunities corresponding to those given to Diplomatic Agents." A study of the Convention itself is more rewarding. A Consular Officer or employee (my italics) shall. .. be immune from the jurisdiction of the (United Kingdom)." Families are given similar immunity, as are "land, buildings and parts of buildings used . . . for a Consultate " together with residences of Consular Officers, Each Consulate can employ "couriers, sealed pouches, bags and other containers, and may use cyphers." All means of correspondence are inviolable.
This Convention, in fact, makes provision for setting-up an unspecified number of Soviet Consulates in the United Kingdom. It is agreed in advance that each such Consulate should possess the same extraordinary and unprecedented immunities and privileges as have for so long been accorded to the Soviet Embassy in Kensington Palace Gardens — and which have been abused so flagrantly over a long period of time. " But surely," it will be said "there are not yet any Soviet consulates outside London?" This is true at the moment, but it takes no great stretch of the imagination to anticipate an age-old Russian subterfuge, which seldom fails in its object. This, now that the 1972 Navigation season is well under way, could take the form of an 'incident' involving a British seaman in a ship visiting Leningrad or Odessa. For a moment, let us give our imagination free rein. Details of the incident are not known, except that the Soviet athorities maintain that the sailor's conduct was 'provocative.' The man himself is seriously hurt — his Captain has not been allowed to see him — the British Consul in Moscow is far away and his permit to travel unaccountably delaytd. In due course outraged questions begin to appear in the Guardian, the Observer and the Sunday Times. "Why have we no British Consul in Leningrad/Odessa?", with, no doubt, pictures of anxious wife and tearful children. Relying on precedent, it will not be long before a skeleton consular staff is on its way, to face the usual ghetto-like existence in a strange and actively hostile environment. Meanwhile, in the name of reciprocity, a Russian team, complete with families, cooks, chaufferys, service staff' and the rest will be on its way to its selected British port. And which will they choose? For the choice will be theirs. Glasgow? Liverpool? Lerwick? Each has advantages from the standpoint of the KGB.
There is, regrettably, little likelihood that the Foreign Office will steel itself to face Soviet wrath sufficietnly to take effective steps to repair this gaping hole in our national defences. The rot, it seems, has gone too deep. But public opinion, or even the anticipation of public opinion, can still force Governments to action, as we saw in the swift moves that followed the Lyalin defection, culminating in the mass expulsion. It was the sudden public realisation of the truth about the enemy in our midst that made it impossible for the Government not to take some such drastic step. Now, if it is properly informed, public opinion can and should insist that the Consular Convention in its present form must not be allowed to remain in force. The means of obtaining this object are ready to hand. Under the terms of Article 42, the Convention will automatically be renewed for a further period of five years unless we give notice of termination before the end of September, 1972. Termination could be followed by renegotiation in a less harmful form.
On the broader issue of the future relationship between Britain and this rogue-elephant of the diplomatic world, the Government, if it has the courage to play it, has another card in its hand. It would serve to correct the dangerous imbalance in diplomatic representation which has been allowed to build up over the years.
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