Everyone loves a good spy story, a daring conspiracy, a glimpse of the invisible hands that shape the world, the steadfast men of ideas that direct history from the shadows, manipulating events on the world stage from behind a curtain of intrigue.
One such “man of ideas”, a ruthless wheeler and dealer and a man who certainly left his mark on history, in ways both overt and covert, was the French spychief Count Alexandre de Marenches. The Count was the longest serving head of the Service de Documentation Extérieure et de Contre-Espionnage (SDECE, France’s version of the CIA), serving as its director from 1970 through to 1981. Below are a couple of tales from Count de Marenches’ large arsenal. But first a little more about the man and his ideas.
In 1992 the Count co-authored with NY Times’ Paris correspondent David A. Andelman, “The Fourth World War: Diplomacy and Espionage in the Age of Terrorism”, a book that has since revealed itself to be ahead of its time, but back in 1992 was snubbed by reviewers for making unfounded claims from an “extremist” viewpoint. The book is perhaps the first instance of the suggestion that the next World War would be against international terrorism and rogue states. In it the Count called for the establishment of a “Decent People’s Club” of countries that would band together to crush the new slippery bad guys. Count de Marenches’ name for this new conflict was the politically incorrect “South-North War”.
Allister Heath wrote of Count de Marenches and his book last week:
When it came to fighting terrorists, Count Alexandre de Marenches, the legendary former head of France’s intelligence services, knew what he was talking about. In a prescient book published just after the end of the Cold War, he was the first to warn that a fourth world war had already begun — a war waged by ‘small, highly deadly units of terrorists’ with ‘the very real prospect of ending civilisation, at least Western civilisation, as we know it’. A lone voice, Marenches was ignored in Britain and America; it was far easier to believe in reassuring theories about the ‘end of history’ and the supposedly inevitable victory of liberal democracy in the great ideological conflicts of the 20th century.
Well, not completely ignored. Eliot A. Cohen wrote the following in Foreign Affairs back in 1992:
“[the author] goes off track … when he looks to the future. He sees the opening skirmishes of a new world war — between South and North — the new enemies being terrorists, drug lords and dictators. ‘Mutual Assured Destruction’ must now be replaced by a doctrine of `Certain Destruction’ of terrorist groups; a ‘Decent People’s Club’ of nations that believe in individual liberty must be created. These extreme views inadvertently cast some doubt on his judgment while running French intelligence.”
It has now become much clearer whose judgement doubt should perhaps be cast on.
Now to the stories. The first one is short, sweet and unfulfilled. The year before his death in 1995 the Count told Time magazine’s Thomas Sancton the following tale over lunch:
“Shortly after your hostages were taken in Tehran in 1979,” he recalls, “the Americans asked my advice. I told them, ‘When dealing with rug merchants, you need something to trade.’ ” The count’s modest proposal: kidnap the Ayatullah Khomeini and exchange him for the 53 Americans. “After weeks of reconnaissance, my people came up with a detailed plan to land a helicopter near Khomeini’s residence, neutralize his guards and whisk him away. The CIA loved the idea, but Jimmy Carter nixed it. He said, ‘We just can’t do this to an old bishop.’ ”
Naive sentimentality driving Jimmy Carter’s foreign policy decisions?! Shock and horror all round. Perhaps he was using the more colourful meaning of the term “old bishop”? Alas, we’ll never know. I do know that had the Israelis gone and kidnapped that other “old bishop” Hassan Nasrallah to exchange for their soldiers the Middle East would be a whole other ball game just about now. Although Ayatollah Khomenei would have been even better.
Possibly de Marenches’ favourite spy story is the one about “Operation Mosquito”.
Here’s one version of it (questionable source, but you can read the condensed version from Count himself in the same Time magazine article):
Both the colonial French and the theoretically anti-colonial Americans used, and were in turn afflicted by, drugs, during the wars in Indo-China from the 1950s until the 1970s. Memories of this must have been uppermost in the mind of a certain big, burly mustachioed Frenchman. He appeared by appointment at the Los Angeles mansion of President-elect Ronald Reagan’s advisor and friend, Alfred Bloomingdale, one day in December 1990. This was to be the Frenchman’s first meeting with Reagan, whose anti-Communist and anti-Soviet views he fully shared.
The big Frenchman was Count Alexandre de Marenches, head of France’s secret foreign intelligence service, the SDECE (later the DGSE). [..] He had accurately predicted the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan.
Despite some serious problems between the French agency’s men and American drug-enforcement officials, de Marenches had good access to the Washington of the Reagan era. General Vernon Walters, just promoted from his old post as US defense attaché in Paris to become deputy director of the CIA, was one of de Marenches’ oldest friends. He put in a good word for the robust French spy chief. This assured him of a good reception by President-elect Reagan in Los Angeles. The two men sat down to study maps of Afghanistan. Before he left, de Marenches warned Reagan that the rank-and-file staff of the CIA, where a mutual friend, William Casey, would soon take over as chief, was not to be trusted.
“These are not serious people,” de Marenches said. They couldn’t keep secrets, he added. It was too easy to spot their officers and agents. Usually they were under highly transparent cover as diplomats in American missions abroad.
Soon after his inauguration in January 1981, Reagan saw the Frenchman again. This time it was in the Oval Office of the White House. De Marenches had a concrete suggestion for a Franco-American venture to revive the old alliance and counter the Soviet threat in Afghanistan. He called it Operation Moustique or Mosquito. “You know,” he told the President, “how much trouble a mosquito can cause a bear. If you’re not in a position to shoot the bear yourself, you should consider this method.”
De Marenches continued that he was in contact with a bunch of bright young journalists. They could produce a perfect specimen of a convincing but false Red Army newspaper. Other friends could print Bibles in the Cyrillic alphabet, and in languages of the Central Asian Muslim Soviet republics. They could be put around in Red Army barracks and do a lot of damage to spirit and morale. There was another thing: “What,” he asked Reagan, do you do with all the drugs seized by the DEA [the US Drug Enforcement Administration], the Coast Guard, the FBI, the Customs?” Reagan responded that he didn’t know. He supposed they burned them. “That’s a mistake,” the Frenchman said.” Take all those confiscated drugs and do as the Vietcong did with the US Army in Vietnam. Supply them on the sly, to the Russian soldiers.” In a few months, he explained, they would be demoralized and their fighting ability would be gone. De Marenches added, according to his published memoirs, that a few trusted people could do all this at a cost of only about one million dollars, truly a bargain in subversive warfare.
After very short reflection, Reagan, according to his French visitor, replied that this was a great idea. No one had suggested anything like it to him before. He picked up the phone and told William Casey. The two should meet and discuss Operation Mosquito. When de Marenches met Casey two days later and explained the plan, the Frenchman recorded in his memoirs that Casey “… loved it. He leaped from his chair and sliced at the air with his fists.” Although Casey knew there would be problems with Congress, he was eager to go ahead. Would, could, France carry it out if the CIA put up the cash? Yes, de Marenches agreed, but only on condition that no Americans were directly involved. “Your compatriots,” he told Casey, “don’t know how to do this type of work. They’re likely to get a pile-driver to crush a fly, rather than turn a mosquito loose to make life impossible for a bear.”
By the French spymaster’s account, planning then began. Pakistani operatives and Afghans would handle the distribution of the black propaganda material — phoney Russian newspapers with demoralizing articles and exhortations to desert the Red Army; Christian Bibles — and hard and soft drugs for the “Russkies.”
Casey had an afterthought. Wouldn’t Pakistan’s ISI be involved? “We need the Pakis,” he mumbled, with the habitual intelligibility which made him hard to understand. “I’ll take care of that,” said de Marenches. “But I have another condition. This kind of operation is very delicate. I want to be sure that France won’t be mentioned in published articles. I want to be sure that I’ll never see my photo in the New York Times or the Washington Post, along with a little item about what I’m doing.” Sorry, Casey retorted. Washington leaked like a sieve. Casey couldn’t promise anything of the kind.
According to de Marenches, the joint Franco-American project was dropped: in other words, France withdrew, after having provided the idea. However, the fake issues of Krasnaya Zvezda (Red Star), the Soviet army newspaper, did appear later in Kabul. [5] So did large quantities of hashish, opium straw (a dried poppy product used in the area to make mildly narcotic “tea”) and packets of heroin, all made easy for the Soviet personnel to buy for nominal prices or “find” as free gifts. There were even small quantities of cocaine, not produced at this early time in the South Asian war boom in drugs, in laboratories in Pakistan or Afghanistan.
Hashshashin warriors the Russkis obviously weren’t.
Of course it took a lot more than hard drugs and some depressing tabloids to get the Soviets out of Afghanistan. Helping out with the gathering and funding of the mujahideen was the House of Saud. The head of Saudi intelligence all through the 80s and 90s, and in fact right up until mid-2001, for a total of 24 years was a close colleague and protege of Count de Marenches, Prince Turki bin Feisal. Here’s a story all about him:
One of Turki’s assets was Osama bin Laden, one of the 56 children of a Yemeni-born construction tycoon who had a monopoly on the building of all royal palaces in the kingdom.
Osama collected tens of millions from wealthy Saudis for the Afghan campaign. He also took under his wing Arab and other Muslim volunteers funded to fight in Afghanistan by Turki and wealthy princes and private sector entrepreneurs.
By the time the defeated Soviets left Afghanistan in February 1989, bin Laden had been elevated to hero status in Saudi Arabia. So when bin Laden asked to see Turki Aug. 2, 1990, the day Saddam Hussein invaded Iraq, he was not kept waiting.
What followed was described by Turki as one of history’s most expensive laughs. Bin Laden told Turki the royals must not invite the U.S. Army to the kingdom to push the Iraqis out of Kuwait. His “Afghan Arab” fighters could do the job. Turki laughed and a furious bin Laden stormed out.
That was a crucial turning point in history. Bin Laden became convinced the royal family was conspiring with Washington to facilitate the occupation of Saudi Arabia and control of its oil production facilities and that Saddam had been entrapped into invading Kuwait to provide a pretext for U.S. occupation. That was when he decided to take on the royal family – a career path that led him to become the world’s most wanted terrorist.
Prince Turki is the current Saudi Arabian ambassador to Washington. It seems that since his “expensive laugh” the Prince has acquired a real penchant for missing the mark with his communiques, even if at times it has been somewhat deliberate.