interesting-people message

[Date Prev] | [Thread Prev] | [Thread Next] | [Date Next] -- [Date Index] | [Thread Index] | [interesting-people Home]


Subject: IP: The Trouble with the CIA



From: "RV Head" <4whp@home.com>

http://www.nybooks.com/articles/15109

The New York Review of Books
January 17, 2002

Review
The Trouble with the CIA
By Thomas Powers

BOOKS DISCUSSED IN THIS ARTICLE


by Paul R. Pillar
Brookings Institution, 272 pp., $26.95


by Yossef Bodansky
Forum, 439 pp., $17.95 (paper)


by Simon Reeve
Northeastern University Press, 294 pp., $26.95; $18.95 (paper, to be
published in June 2002)

As the sun rose along the eastern seaboard of the United States on September
11, the Central Intelligence Agency was in a state of what might be called
permanent medium alert to detect and prevent terrorist attacks on US
citizens and property. For fifteen years the agency had entrusted this task
to a Counter-Terrorism Center (CTC) at CIA headquarters in Langley,
Virginia, where as many as two hundred intelligence officers gathered and
analyzed information from a wide range of technical and a somewhat narrower
range of human sources. For five years there had been a separate task force
within the CTC dedicated specifically to the danger posed by Osama bin
Laden, the Saudi-born Islamic extremist believed to have been responsible
for successful attacks on US troops in Saudi Arabia, US embassies in East
Africa, and the USS Cole, almost sunk by a suicide bomber in Aden harbor
only a year ago.

The CIA was not alone in its efforts to prevent terrorist attacks. The
United States has not been slack in voting funds for numerous interagency
committees, offices, divisions, centers, and task forces with substantial
budgets focused on the problem of terror, but none of these special-purpose
entities has a clearer responsibility for "warnings and indications" than
the Central Intelligence Agency, which was established in 1947 as a direct
consequence of the failure to foresee the Japanese attack on the American
naval base at Pearl Harbor. Terrorism is only one threat to American
security tracked by the CIA, but the danger is not remote or abstract; the
agency itself has suffered grievous losses from terrorist attacks, notably
in 1983, when a suicide bomber in Beirut devastated the US embassy and
killed sixty-three people, including all six members of the CIA station.
Visiting at the time was a legendary CIA field officer with long experience
in the Middle East, Robert Ames, whose death was confirmed by the wedding
ring on a hand retrieved from the debris.

The dead chief of station was replaced by another longtime CIA officer,
William Buckley, who was kidnapped by terrorists in March 1984 and beaten to
death over the following year. Four years later another CIA officer from
Beirut, Matt Gannon, was killed when a midair explosion destroyed Pan Am
Flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland. Gannon's wife was also a CIA officer,
Susan Twetten, daughter of the agency's chief of operations, Tom Twetten,
now retired and a book dealer in rural Vermont. Other CIA officers have been
murdered by terrorists, including two just outside the gates of the agency
itself.

The CIA thus has a visceral as well as a theoretical understanding of what
terrorism is all about. The director of central intelligence, George Tenet,
has often briefed Congress during his four years at the head of the CIA on
the dangers of terrorism, on the threat posed by weapons of mass
destruction, and specifically on the worldwide network commanded by Osama
bin Laden from his protected refuge in Afghanistan. Less than a year ago
Tenet told the Senate Intelligence Committee that bin Laden posed the "most
serious and immediate threat" to the United States, and more recently still,
probably in August or early September, three foreign intelligence services
separately informed the CIA that bin Laden had urged one of his four wives,
who was visiting Syria at the time, to return home to Afghanistan
immediately-a suggestive sign that something was in the wind.

Neither the United States government nor the CIA were snoozing at their
desks as the sun rose along the eastern seaboard of the United States on
September 11. Both fully understood the danger of terrorism generally and of
Osama bin Laden specifically. Nevertheless, when Logan Airport in Boston and
Dulles Airport outside Washington, D.C., began boarding aircraft that
morning, nineteen men dispatched by Osama bin Laden walked through security
checkpoints as easily as they had entered and operated throughout the United
States during the preceding months-encountering as little interference, and
arousing as little alarm, as if the Federal Aviation Administration had
never heard the word "hijacking" and the CIA had never heard the word
"terrorist" or the name "Osama bin Laden." By mid-morning on September 11
there can have been few Americans who had not watched-probably over and
over -the collapse of the twin towers of the World Trade Center. The reason
for drawing heightened attention to this single greatest failure of American
intelligence since Pearl Harbor is that no official steps have so far been
taken to find out how it could have happened.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----

People who deal with terrorism professionally tend to think of it as doctors
do diseases with no cure, or as police do crime-as an ill of the human
condition to be addressed one case at a time. Paul Pillar, a former deputy
director of the CIA's Counter-Terrorism Center, has thought about the
subject long enough to have it in comfortable perspective as a problem to be
managed, never solved. In a study for the Brookings Institution, published
last April under the title of Terrorism and US Foreign Policy, Pillar argues
persuasively that overexcitement is the enemy of sound counterterror
practice. On some things, inevitably, September 11 has proved Pillar plain
wrong; he cites, for example, "a drastic reduction in skyjackings" as a
"major success story" and credits "a comprehensive security system." But
most of what Pillar says holds up well, even when his common-sense approach
is now tinged with irony. Put simply, his approach to managing terrorism is
to proceed calmly, avoid inflating the significance of any single enemy (he
includes bin Laden by name), and remember that, with coalitions, small and
few is better than big and many since "limits...are set by the states least
willing to cooperate." Pillar has much else to say. There is, he writes, no
substitute for the local influence and expertise of foreign police and
intelligence services. Bringing legal cases against terrorists takes time
and dries up intelligence sources. International sanctions and resolutions
work slowly when they work at all. You can't ask foreign banks to track
financial transactions without providing account numbers. Military
retaliation rarely hits the target intended, and for every terrorist killed
two more aspire to take his place.

In the weeks following September 11 it was often suggested that really
vigorous efforts freed of hand-wringing restraint-assassination of terrorist
leaders, use of torture in interrogation, shutting off terrorist funds to
the last penny, telling allies to cooperate or else-would solve the problem
with finality. Pillar's advice is to put no hope in drastic measures but
remember the current facts of life. There are limits to power, America has
become a lightning rod for hatred, we can't stop people from trying to hurt
us, and sometimes they will succeed.

But sensible as this advice is, it is undercut by one aspect of the attacks
on September 11-their magnitude. In the counterterrorism business there has
been a growing concern over the last two decades, and especially since the
collapse of the Soviet Union, about the threat posed by weapons of mass
destruction-what Pillar calls "the much-ballyhooed danger of chemical,
biological, radiological, or nuclear terrorism inflicting mass casualties,"
and referred to by professionals as CBRN. In Pillar's view such dangers are
real but exaggerated; CBRN weapons are difficult to get and to deliver;
talking about them only convinces terrorists "how much they frighten
people." For Pillar the one quality essential to "sound counterterrorist
policy" is perspective, and nothing undermines it more than lurid American
fears of "catastrophic," "grand," or "super" terrorism-threats whose
consequences are horrifying but whose probability is low.

This would still be a sound point if not for the magnitude of the attacks on
the World Trade Center, which killed several thousand people, destroyed
billions of dollars' worth of property, pushed the United States deeper into
recession, plunged us into a foreign war, precipitated a political crisis
throughout the Middle East, and shattered the confidence of Americans that
they are safe in their own homes and offices. The cost in dollars will be
immense, probably many times the $30 billion annual bill for all American
intelligence efforts. The psychic cost of terror cannot be measured, but it
ticks up every time someone catches his breath on a plane, thinks twice
about getting on an elevator to the eightieth floor, wonders what is in a
package, is reassured to know that the FBI can now bug lawyers talking with
their clients, or decides to move the headquarters of a Fortune 500 company
out of New York City. Pillar, in short, and everybody else in his line of
work, is going to have to put "catastrophic," "grand," and "super" terrorism
at the top of the list because the other guys have a demonstrated ability to
think and operate on the grand scale, and their efforts to obtain nuclear
weapons could one day succeed.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----

Much about Osama bin Laden and his organization remains obscure. The son of
a Yemeni-born construction tycoon in Saudi Arabia, bin Laden was one of
fifty-three children and the seventeenth son, who inherited on his father's
death a fortune variously estimated as $50 million or as much as $300
million. The family dynamics among fifty siblings are difficult to imagine,
but a hint to bin Laden's character can perhaps be found in the fact that he
was his mother's only child, that she was the eleventh or perhaps the
twelfth wife, and that his older brothers called him "the son of the slave."
This bit of information comes from Simon Reeve, a British journalist who
wrote an account of the first World Trade Center bomb attack in 1993 called
The New Jackals: Ramzi Yousef, Osama bin Laden and the Future of Terrorism.

After obtaining a degree in civil engineering-study that usually involves a
course on "strength of materials"- bin Laden was recruited, apparently by
the head of the Saudi intelligence service, Prince Turki al-Faisal, to
support the Mujahideen in the war to drive the Russians out of Afghanistan.
Swept away by that success, bin Laden broke with his homeland when it turned
to the United States for protection after the invasion of Kuwait by Saddam
Hussein, moved to Sudan, built an Islamic extremist network called al-Qaeda
(Arabic for "the base"), and embarked on a campaign of terror.

Under pressure from the United States in 1996, Sudan offered to extradite
him to Saudi Arabia. Fearing that bin Laden was too popular to admit back
into the country, Riyadh turned down the offer-something they told the
Americans only months later- and bin Laden was allowed instead to fly back
to Afghanistan where old friends in the Pakistani Inter-Services
Intelligence (ISI) from the anti-Soviet war put him in touch with the
Taliban, a religious party strongly backed by Pakistan in the Afghan civil
war.

A recent biography of bin Laden by the director of the Congressional Task
Force on Terrorism and Unconventional Warfare, Yossef Bodansky, reports in
great detail the outward facts of bin Laden's progress from a builder of
hospitals and military barracks in Afghanistan to the world's most wanted
terrorist. Included are the names of many obscure groups, the dates of
meetings, reports of individuals getting on and off planes, financial
transactions, the movement of arms-all that superstructure of corroborative
information which intelligence services like the CIA build into case files.
>From bin Laden's own writings and videotaped interviews we know that he
wants the United States to pull its forces out of the Muslim world, he wants
the UN to end the sanctions imposed on Iraq, and he is angered by the
suffering of the Palestinians at the hands of the Israelis.

But Bodansky's thorough book, Bin Laden: The Man Who Declared War on
America, tells us little about bin Laden's character, the people who shaped
his thinking, how he came to embrace terrorism and build links with extreme
Islamicist groups throughout the world. What the CIA and other intelligence
organizations somehow missed between bin Laden's return to Afghanistan in
1996 and the attacks of September 11 was the transformation of al-Qaeda from
an angry group of "Afghan Arabs" into a disciplined organization with the
ability to hijack four airliners at roughly the same moment and fly three of
them into what the Pentagon calls "high value" targets. At the time of the
simultaneous attacks on the US embassies in East Africa in August 1998, the
CIA officer Milt Bearden told a reporter, "Two at once is not twice as hard.
Two at once is a hundred times as hard." What does that make four at once?


----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----

The CIA's failure on September 11 inevitably raises the question of what it
may be missing now. This is not primarily a question of targets and means
but of goals and strategies. In the absence of a secret bin Laden position
paper one can still try to make sense of the attack on the World Trade
Center, and Howard Hart, a retired CIA officer who ran operations against
the Soviets in the Afghan war, has recorded his take in an eight-page paper
privately circulated among friends. Hart resigned from the agency in 1991
and has seen no classified information since. But drawing on twenty years of
experience in the Middle East and South Asia, including operations targeted
on terrorist groups, Hart believes that bin Laden is not driven by hatred
but is instead pursuing an ambitious grand strategy. His ultimate goal, Hart
believes, is "a 'reborn,' combative and vigorous Islam" in control of
governments throughout the Arabic world.

Bin Laden's initial targets, in Hart's view, are the conservative, highly
centralized, relatively weak regimes of Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and the
Gulf States, all of which drift uneasily between the allure of Western
material culture and the resentments of the poor and devout, who have little
access to wealth themselves and are called to reject the modern world by
fiery mullahs. Next on bin Laden's list, in Hart's view, are the
authoritarian, mainly secular regimes of Iraq, Syria, and Libya, whose
populations have been cowed by their "savage and highly effective internal
security services...."

Bin Laden has no armies to achieve these great ends; his method is the
ancient strategy of the weak, using terrorism to precipitate a political
crisis which can be expected to drive a deepening wedge throughout the
Islamic world between the godless allies of America and the champions of
Allah. In Hart's view the furious American response to the September 11
attacks was part of bin Laden's plan; he and his al-Qaeda companions
expected that the US reaction would drive angry Muslims into the streets.
Violent measures to suppress them would escalate a growing crisis

until police and security forces will no longer be willing to fire on their
own people, and the targeted governments will collapse. In short, a repeat
of events in Iran in 1978- 79. Skeptics should remember that in January 1978
no one in Iran- the Shah, his military, foreign observers, even Khomeini
supporters -believed the regime could be toppled by "Islamic extremists."
One year later the Shah's regime had been destroyed.
Hart watched this happen in Iran, where he arrived in the spring of 1978 to
keep tabs on the growing crisis, something the CIA had avoided for years for
fear of offending the Shah. The situation he found is ably described by
another retired official of the CIA's Directorate of Operations, William J.
Daugherty, in the current issue of the International Journal of Intelligence
and Counterintelligence, an indispensable scholarly journal devoted to
intelligence history and policy. American policy was to support the Shah
unconditionally, Daugherty writes, and following the forced exile of the
Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini in 1965 it was taken for granted in Washington
that the opposition had been crippled beyond recovery and the CIA made
little effort to reach its own judgment until Hart's arrival.

Some of Hart's reports in the spring of 1978 were so pessimistic that the
CIA's chief of station refused to send them on to Washington, where he knew
they would arouse fury in the White House. For more than three months during
the summer of 1978 the CIA labored to write up a special National
Intelligence Estimate (NIE) of the strength of the Shah's government. But
the estimators could never agree on what was increasingly obvious: the
Ayatollah had won control of the streets and the royal palace was next.
Eventually the CIA's director, Admiral Stansfield Turner, shelved the NIE
because it was politically too divisive. The result: official shock when the
Shah's government collapsed, and bitter enmity for the United States from
the Islamic activists who seized power in Iran.

Hart makes no facile claim that things might have gone the other way if only
the CIA had sent a few agents into the souks. Khomeini had divined something
the CIA had missed-the deep hostility toward the Shah's regime of a devout
Muslim population being pushed too rapidly into the modern world. But not
even Khomeini could foresee how events would unfold, Hart claims. By late
1978 the CIA had penetrated Khomeini's inner circle, and knew that the
Ayatollah's closest advisers were still preparing to settle for some kind of
power-sharing compromise. Having seen the fall of one regime built on sand,
Hart is convinced that bin Laden, following a strategy similar to Khomeini's
in the 1970s, can do it again. Whatever happens in the current American
effort to hunt him down, he says, bin Laden has now been transformed into a
hero of the Arab world. If he lives his charisma will shine all the
brighter; if he is imprisoned or killed, others in the al-Queda network will
carry on in his name. "The governments of Saudi Arabia and the Gulf States
are also built on sand," he says.

Hart's interpretation is not easily proved or disproved. Pakistan, once
thought vulnerable to Islamic revolt, seems to have survived the present
crisis without great difficulty. Most scholars think Saudi Arabia is equally
secure-but that is what they thought about the Shah of Iran, too, before
1978, and the CIA at the time went on claiming his throne was not in danger
almost until the day he left the country. If the war against terrorism is
going to persist for years, as the secretary of defense has said,
governments in control today may be in trouble tomorrow. Hart knows that
official policy and a CIA anxious to please can make it hard to spot-and
even harder to report-the moment things start to deteriorate. He watched it
happen in Iran, and the CIA's failure on September 11 makes him worried it
could happen again.

2.
Failure is not easily confessed by the CIA. "Though we did not stop the
latest, terrible assaults," George Tenet said in a statement to the agency's
estimated 16,000 employees on September 12, "you-the men and women of CIA
and our intelligence community- have done much to combat terrorism in the
past." Failure was not a word Tenet could bring himself to utter. His
executive director, A.B. "Buzzy" Krongard, came closer-a little-when he told
a meeting of Washington investors in mid-October that the CIA had been
worrying too exclusively about atomic bombs and other weapons of mass
destruction. "Over and over again, in public testimony and private
briefings, we have warned of a major attack by bin Laden," he said. "We had
the scope correct. We missed the means."

Like Tenet, most of the CIA people I have talked to in recent weeks have
balked at the word "failure," struggling to say it without saying it. Their
reading of the event, stripped to its essence, is that no intelligence
service can be reasonably asked to predict every attack mounted by a
terrorist group, and that the CIA's performance is more fairly measured by
what has followed-identifying the likely suspects, mounting a major
investigation, calling on friendly intelligence services for help in
blocking further attacks, and playing a vigorous and conspicuous role in the
US military campaign to overthrow the Taliban and capture Osama bin Laden in
Afghanistan. The performance of the CIA, therefore, should be measured on
what an intelligence service can do-respond quickly and accurately-and not
on what it can't do, no matter how good it is. By any fair measure,
therefore, the CIA did not fail.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----

Behind this defensiveness is a lively fear of the CIA's perennial
nightmare -reorganization under the prod of Congress. Like all directors of
central intelligence, Tenet has done some reorganizing himself; one of the
first things his friend Buzzy Krongard did as executive director was to
abolish the Directorate of Administration, thereby drawing under his
immediate control the former DA's five separate offices for in-house
management-finance, security, personnel, and the like-long famous for their
independence.

The history of the CIA is a record of constantly changing offices and lines
of authority, usually to reflect shifting priorities in the White House.
What the agency fears is not new decision trees but radical surgery. Until
he retired a year ago Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan openly advocated doing
away with the CIA entirely as an unwieldy relic of the cold war. Other
would-be reformers have suggested splitting covert action from intelligence
analysis, perhaps even going so far as to give covert action to the Pentagon
and analysis to the State Department-despite the fact that neither wants it.

Former director John Deutch, who ran the agency for eighteen months under
President Clinton, published an article in Foreign Affairs in 1998 arguing
that the agency's Counter-Terrorism Center should be transferred to the FBI.
"Senators and congressmen all think they know what intelligence is all
about," I was told by Richard Helms, who ran the CIA for six years until
President Nixon sent him to Iran in 1973. "Reorganization is their main
delight, but I myself don't think they're going to achieve anything by it."
Most longtime intelligence professionals believe, like Helms, that basic
intelligence work remains the same, however much the flow charts and
diagrams are changed. President Bush appears to agree. Earlier this year he
asked for a comprehensive intelligence review, still unwritten on September
11. But in the days following the attacks Bush made a point of being
photographed in earnest discussion with his chief advisers-Vice President
Dick Cheney, National Security Adviser Condoleezza Rice, and George Tenet.
The message appeared to be clear: the President is sticking with the agency
and the director he has got.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----

But there is a group of intelligence dissidents in Washington who think this
would be a historic mistake. They argue that the CIA's failure to grasp the
scope of al-Qaeda's plans reveals deep structural problems within the agency
that go far beyond ordinary questions of funding and who reports to whom,
and that no attempt to identify weaknesses or correct problems can go
forward while George Tenet remains in charge. The criticisms come not from
think tanks or bureaucratic rivals of the CIA like the FBI, but from a vocal
group of former intelligence officers-mostly young, mostly field officers
from the Directorate of Operations (DO), mostly well-respected and destined
for solid careers until they chose to leave-who believe that the CIA is in
steep decline. The most vocal of these critics is Robert Baer, a twenty-year
veteran of numerous assignments in Central Asia and the Middle East whose
last major job for the agency was an attempt to organize Iraqi opposition to
Saddam Hussein in the early 1990s-shuttling between a desk in Langley and
contacts on the ground in Jordan, Turkey, and even northern Iraq.

That assignment came to an abrupt end in March 1995 when Baer, once seen as
a rising star of the DO, suddenly found himself "the subject of an
accusatory process." An agent of the FBI told him he was under investigation
for the crime of plotting the assassination of Saddam Hussein. The
investigation was ordered by President Clinton's national security adviser,
Anthony Lake, who would be nominated to run the agency two years later. The
Baer investigation was only one of many reasons that the intelligence
organizations resisted Lake, forcing him to withdraw his name in 1997, and
clearing the way for George Tenet.

Eventually, the case against Baer was dismissed with the help of the
Washington lawyer Jeffrey Smith, who served as the agency's general counsel
under John Deutch. But for Baer the episode was decisive. "When your own
outfit is trying to put you in jail," he told me, "it's time to go."

Baer's was one of many resignations in recent years; the dissidents'
portrait of the agency which follows comes from him, from Howard Hart, from
another veteran DO operator and former chief of station in Amman, Jordan,
named David Manners, and from others who preferred not to be identified.
They have differing career histories and views but on some things they
agree. The Clinton years, in their view, saw a crippling erosion of the
agency's position in Washington. Its leadership is now timid and its staff
demoralized. Top officials, they say, worry more about the vigilantes of
political correctness than the hard work of collecting intelligence in the
field. The shock of discovering Aldrich Ames in 1994 was followed by a
period of destructive self-criticism.

"That was the beginning of the 'Shia' era in the agency," said Manners. He
was referring to the branch of Islam, centered in Iran, which stresses the
unworthiness and sinfulness of man. "We all had to demonstrate our penance,"
Manners told me. "Focus groups were organized, we 'reengineered' the
relationship of the Directorate of Operations and the Directorate of
Intelligence." This meant dropping the bureaucratic wall between the
analysts and the covert operators and introducing "uniform career
standards." Henceforth a year in some country where it was dangerous to
drink the water would get you no farther up the ladder than a year pushing
paper in Langley. When John Deutch came in he appointed as chief of
operations an analyst, David Cohen, who had never supervised an agent or
even asked the chief of a foreign intelligence service to share information
from his files. This was the era of "process action teams" which studied
managerial questions like what sort of paperwork to use for agent handling.
A committee of a dozen, split between case officers and analysts, might
spend half a day wrestling with such questions twice a week for a year or
more. "Navel gazing," Manners calls it.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----

In the reengineered CIA it was possible for Deborah Morris to be appointed
the DO's deputy chief for the Near East. "Her husband was thrown out of
Russia in 1994," said one of the dissidents, referring to James L. Morris,
the Moscow station chief expelled during the Ames affair. "She worked her
way up in Langley. I don't think she's ever been in the Near East. She's
never run an agent, she doesn't know what the Khyber Pass looks like, but
she's supposed to be directing operations-telling the operators if some
pitch [i.e., plan] is a good idea."

The dissidents argue that "uniform career standards" did nothing to improve
intelligence analysis but hurt field operations badly. Many DO veterans
resigned and others lost heart when they saw what happened to Richard Holm,
the Paris station chief who was yanked back after an attempt to recruit
French officials went awry in 1995. US Ambassador Pamela Harriman fumed that
whatever Holm was after, "it isn't worth the embarrassment to me." The word
went forth from Langley-no more flaps, which meant don't stick your neck
out, which meant safe operations or none at all. When Deutch arrived, Holm
left, a harsh back of the hand for one of the agency's legendary operators.
To fill the gap came a new emphasis on "reports"-the number of separate
pieces of paper forwarded to Langley, whatever their quality. "What use is a
Cray supercomputer at the Counter-Terrorism Center," Baer asks, "if you've
got nothing to put into it?"

With the end of the cold war the agency cut back on recruiting agents,
closed down many stations including most of those in Africa, and even quit
accepting defectors from the old KGB in 1992-several years before the CIA
uncovered Aldrich Ames and another DO spy, Harold Nicholson, less celebrated
but almost as damaging-he was known around the DO as "Ranger Jim." At the
same time the DO dismantled all the Counterespionage Groups, staffed mainly
by "little old ladies" who knew the old cold war targets backward and
forward but were no longer needed. Spies were a thing of the past; the new
order of the day was to "manage intelligence relationships." In Morocco, the
station chief told Baer he was crazy for trying to mount ambitious
operations. "We were told to stand down," another dissident said. If you had
checked the books you would have found just as many code names for secret
agents, the dissidents say, but it was mainly window dressing-routine CIA
informants puffed up in reports.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----

Along with the pullback in recruiting, the dissidents say, came a turn
inward. Once operators had prided themselves on their grasp of local
language and culture; now they stayed home watching American videos on TV.
The CIA has long been wary of letting officers become too closely identified
with any single country, language, or region; the British once called it
"going native," the CIA calls it "falling in love." But the great operators
in the past tended to speak languages like the natives, weren't afraid of
the water, had a feel for the way national politics and culture were
interconnected. That, at any rate, was what the dissidents had hoped to be
when they joined the agency. Howard Hart, a graduate of the University of
Arizona, was sent by the agency in 1966 to India, where he learned Urdu and
Hindustani; later he added "passable German." Robert Baer learned French,
German, Arabic, and even the Farsi dialect known as Dari when he was
stationed in Dushanbe, the capital of Tajikistan. No Dari speakers served in
Dushanbe after Baer left, and the agency has since closed the station down.
"Do you know how many Pashto speakers the CIA has got?" he asks, citing the
language of the principal ethnic group in Afghanistan, including most of the
leadership of the Taliban. "The agency will tell you some imaginary number
but I am telling you none. Do you know how many were sent to learn it after
the embassy bombings? None."

With the mass resignations from the DO in recent years the match between
station chief and country got ever more arbitrary; one recent chief in
Beijing, a dissident says, picked for the job by Deutch's executive
director, Nora Slatkin, spoke no Chinese and suffered from a conspicuous
skin disease which the Chinese find particularly offensive. The loss of
language speakers was not limited to the agency; the National Security
Agency, a dissident claims, has only one Pashto speaker-a problem solved by
sending transcripts of intercepted communications to Pakistan for
translation by the ISI, an organization with a long history of involvement
with the Taliban and Osama bin Laden. Some intelligence officials even
believe that it was the ISI who warned bin Laden to get out of Khost before
American cruise missiles struck in August 1998 in retaliation for the
embassy bombings.

The dissidents say that the CIA is still staffed with hard-working people of
talent and dedication and that it can still do competent work. They know how
vast the agency's resources are and are familiar with the technical marvels
which collect intelligence. Above all, they recognize that the apparent
success of the military effort in Afghanistan seems to have reassured the
public that things are now going well. But all the same the dissidents
insist that things have gone badly wrong at the agency. Years of public
criticism, attempts to clean house, the writing and rewriting of rules, and
efforts to rein in the Directorate of Operations have all conspired to make
the agency insular, risk-averse, and gun-shy. So have catch-up hiring of
women and minorities, public hostility that makes it hard to recruit at
leading colleges, complacency following victory in the cold war, the
humiliation of the Ames case, even the long economic boom which put CIA
salaries farther and farther behind routine offers to recent graduates by
business and industry. The dissidents don't say that all of these problems
are somehow the doing of George Tenet, but they do say they have undermined
the CIA's ability to follow terrorists through the streets of the Arab
world. A few months ago theirs was only the opinion of a group of
disaffected officials; since September 11 it ought to be considered
seriously.

3.
It is hard to find anyone in the intelligence community who dislikes George
Tenet. He is an open-faced, hefty man, a reformed cigar smoker, friendly in
manner, a slapper of backs and a clutcher of arms, earnest, interested,
quick to take a point, and open to new ideas. "The outgoingness is a genuine
gift," said Helms, who has watched many directors of central intelligence
come and go. "Who else could lecture Arafat on the Middle East-up close with
his hand on Arafat's lapel-and get away with it?" Tenet's confirmation in
July 1997 also brought a welcome end to the revolving door on the seventh
floor of CIA headquarters, where Tenet replaced Deutch, who had replaced
James Woolsey, who had replaced Robert Gates, with a number of failed
nominations in between. Tenet has set a recent record for peaceful tenure of
the DCI's long, wood-paneled office overlooking the imposing main entrance
to the building which Tenet renamed (before the last presidential election)
the Bush Intelligence Center. The Bush in question is the President's
father, who was director for ten days short of a year in 1976- 1977 and is
still remembered as the ideal intelligence consumer when he was in the White
House.

The bureaucratic clout of DCIs can be measured by how often they meet with
the president. With some it's practically never; with most it starts often
and fades off. In the case of Tenet and the current President Bush it is
reported to be every day, with the arrival of the DCI at the White House
carrying the President's Daily Brief, a printed document reporting much as a
newspaper might the classified intelligence take and hot issues of the
moment. Trust and personal liking of this sort is rare and CIA officials,
happy to have the attention of the Oval Office, don't want to mess with it.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----

Tenet got the job by an unusual route through a succession of staff jobs
dealing with intelligence issues for congressional committees. After several
years as an aide to Senator John Heinz, Tenet joined the forty-member staff
of the Senate Intelligence Committee in 1985. Four years later he was
appointed staff director and then in 1993 he moved to the White House, where
he handled intelligence matters for the National Security Council and met
John Deutch, who brought him out to Langley in 1995 as deputy director of
central intelligence. Even Tenet's admirers concede he got the top job
mainly because Clinton did not want to risk another confirmation failure
after Lake bowed out, and Tenet had already been confirmed once by the
Senate. "George is a service kind of guy," said an officer who worked with
him at the agency. "He knew what congressmen wanted and needed and he dealt
with the White House the same way." What is remarkable about Tenet's career
is that he had no intelligence background or experience of the usual kind;
his expertise was all learned in the corridors of power where the deciding
question is what will fly. His largely trouble-free years at the CIA prove
that he knows how to navigate the maze of a political town.

Three years ago Tenet invented a new position-"counselor" to the DCI -and
hired the sixty-four-year-old lawyer and businessman A.B. Krongard to fill
it. A Princeton graduate and martial arts enthusiast, Krongard had recently
retired after selling his share in a Baltimore stock brokerage firm to
Bankers Trust for $70 million. Last March Tenet moved Krongard up into the
job of executive director, where he is in charge of managing the agency,
including its secret operations, while the director deals with broader
issues of policy and strategy. The dissidents say that Krongard may know how
to run a financial firm and make a pot of money, and George Tenet may know
how to keep out of bureaucratic fights he can't win; but neither one of
them, the dissidents say, really knows in any depth what effective
intelligence requires, and on-the-job training isn't enough. It is
impossible for any outsider to fairly judge what the dissidents are
saying-and certainly not anyone as far outside as a journalist like myself.
That is a matter for some official body.

When things go awry in the intelligence business it is customary to do a
damage report. The Ames damage report-a four-hundred-page document written
by then CIA Inspector General Frederick Hitz-in effect cost James Woolsey
his job. In 1961, by the time the agency's inspector general, Lyman
Kirkpatrick, got around to writing his assessment of the embarrassing
failure of a CIA-trained and -financed rebel army at the Bay of Pigs, the
DCI at the time, Allen Dulles, was already gone. That disaster was big
enough to get a second report from a blue-ribbon panel headed by General
Maxwell Taylor. The problem wasn't simply that the rebel army got shot to
pieces as soon as it crossed the beach; it was that the agency had deceived
itself about the real support throughout Cuba for Fidel Castro. The agency's
plan couldn't work, and Taylor's job was to make sure that never happened
again.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----

When I began to work on this article, the first person I called was the CIA
officer I have known longest, a man who started his career during World War
II, joined the CIA at its birth, and worked closely with just about every
chief of covert operations until he retired after the first round of CIA
scandals and subsequent reengineerings in the early 1970s. This man remains
extremely active in retirement. He is a member of numerous study groups,
panels, and commissions, and he rarely misses a conference on intelligence.
He hates to criticize the agency he served all his life, but the failure of
September 11 is not something he is ready to pass over in silence. "I don't
think even Pearl Harbor matches this one," he said. "How often do you lose
half a division in a day? Nothing has ever happened on this scale before.
This was totally beyond anybody's beliefs or dreams. Nobody wanted to think
the unthinkable."

Was anybody talking about an investigation-a post-mortem to figure out what
went wrong?

"I don't understand it," said my friend. "There was a little talk but then
it suddenly quieted down. Not even [Senator Richard] Shelby [former chairman
of the Senate Intelligence Committee]-he knows he can't raise his head.
Nobody is pushing for an investigation."

Is it possible to handle the problem -whatever the problem-without an
investigation?

"No."

What would an investigation require?

"You need presidential and congressional authority. You can't just do it
in-house."

Could it be done while Tenet was still running the CIA?

"If he's still there everybody will know he's watching. People won't tell
you the truth. Everybody will be covering his ass, protecting his boss. They
try to get rid of rivals. They hide paper and destroy evidence. I've seen
it. You can overcome it by being a sonofabitch but only if the top guy is
gone."

There is nothing this man hates more than the way politics has torn apart
the CIA over the years. I would say he about half agrees with the
dissidents-not 100 percent on half what they say, but 50 percent on all of
it. But he has little sympathy for people who talk out of school, and he
knows how hard it is for investigators to keep political meddlers at bay,
get to the bottom of what went wrong, and fix what isn't working. He was the
first one to tell me, like someone describing a jewel, that Tenet had the
President's ear, which meant the agency could do its job. To give that away,
take your chances with someone new, open up a whole can of worms by asking
how this could have happened... Talking about it he sounds like a man facing
open-heart surgery.

But?

"It ought to be done. He ought to go."

-December 19, 2001

For archives see:
http://www.interesting-people.org/archives/interesting-people/


[Date Prev] | [Thread Prev] | [Thread Next] | [Date Next] -- [Date Index] | [Thread Index] | [interesting-people Home]


Powered by eList eXpress LLC