CHAPTER 18
The Americans were rookies. They never learned to lie as well as we.
—Oleg Kalugin, retired KGB Major General
Jean-Bedel Bokassa, leader of the Central African Empire, was harboring a grudge against the United States.1 It was 1972 and Bokassa had in his possession documents written on what he assumed was official U.S. government letterhead alleging a plot to take control of his country. Already distrustful of “colonialists” and “imperialists,” Bokassa now had what he believed to be proof of his grim suspicions.
In reality, the United States had little interest in Bokassa or taking over the former French colony. Located between Chad and the Congo, the Central African Empire, later to be renamed the Central African Republic, was an uninviting piece of real estate, even for a developing country. Although containing some uranium deposits, the impoverished country consisted primarily of subsistence farmers, limited industry, and poor roads.2
Bokassa, although a particularly unpleasant head of state, was primarily a survivor. As a French Legionnaire, he had survived one of the bloodiest battles in Vietnam at Dien Bien Phu, earning himself France’s Croix de Guerre and membership in the Légion d’Honneur.3 Returning to Africa a war hero, Bokassa headed his young country’s armed forces before staging the military coup that landed him in the presidential palace in 1965.4 Once in power, he began bestowing on himself a series of increasingly grandiose titles, starting with President and Prime Minister, and then President for Life.5
Intent on holding control of the country, Bokassa showed little patience for dissidents, sometimes by throwing them to the crocodiles.6 In 1979, he would outrage the world by imprisoning and executing schoolchildren who dared to protest the new mandatory school uniforms. Designed and sold by Bokassa’s wife, the elaborate uniforms were both too hot for the region and priced far beyond the modest means of the average citizen.7
Now, in the summer of 1972, Bokassa turned his anger toward the United States.8 The documents in his hands outlined America’s intention to oust his government by force. The far-fetched proposition fell well within the worldview of an African despot whose own path to power included a violent overthrow of the government.
The U.S. Ambassador, in an effort to counter the false, but diplomatically troublesome accusation, turned to the CIA for assistance. Within TSD was a small team of forensic scientists who operated a Questioned Documents Laboratory (QDL). Primarily used to detect forgeries created by the KGB’s “active measures” element of the Soviet propaganda machine, the QDL also examined questionable foreign documents to support counterintelligence operations. Although QDL experts received little prominence in a division known primarily for its gadgets, disguises, and concealments, their expertise could be of value in this case.
TSD dispatched QDL examiner Dr. David Crown to Bangui, the Central African Empire’s capital city, in July 1972. The U.S. Ambassador knew the documents were bogus, but confided to Crown that he had been unable to persuade Bokassa. It would be up to the QDL examiner to convince the ego-driven and paranoid ruler that the documents were, in fact, forgeries.9
Pointing out the blatant inaccuracies would be a simple matter under more ordinary circumstances. Even to the untrained eye, the language and linguistic flaws in the documents were obvious. The letterhead was emblazoned in gaudy green and red, hardly an approved style of Washington’s sedate bureaucracy. The name of the supposed agency that generated the plot—“Communications in Superior Science Activities N.S.C. Fairbanks: The White House, The State Dept.; The Defense Dept., Washington 25, D.C.”—was a ridiculous jumble of terms and government entities and included an apparent reference to the CIA’s highway signs along the George Washington Parkway northwest of Washington, D.C. There, the fictional agency was headed by a “Richard Brelland” whose supposed title was “Chairman of the Board of Directors.” The presence of a two-digit postal zone, not used since 1961, and the fact that the writing on all the documents was from the same hand, marked them as sloppy, if not outright amateurish, forgeries.10
Still, the language was inflammatory and threatening. Chairman Brelland’s supposed communication read: “The boss has put the finality to the future of CAR’S GBB, he believe that we should use agents stationed in both Kinshasa and . . . Monrovia. Col. No 7 cabnet [sic] believe that the best time would be between the 2nd and 6th, but Ext. 9 is insisting on the 10th to 15th of which the big has already approved of.” In a later paragraph, the U.S. Ambassador was implicated: “The Ambassador proposed a new idea; he said if there isn’t time for a Mil. Coupe [sic], we could hire an assassin in the amount to $1 million and make sure the head is out of the way.”
Far too clumsy to have been produced by any Soviet Bloc intelligence service, the documents were nevertheless troubling for American diplomats. Rumors of coups and invasions could affect America’s foreign policy in Africa no matter how amateurish the forgery, unreliable the source, or outrageous the claims. Like Bokassa, rulers who had come to power by force were intuitively, if not realistically, fearful of their own ouster by similar means. Rumors leaked to the press could take on a life of their own, and gain acceptance as fact throughout the African continent in a flood of news stories and angry editorials.
So, in utmost seriousness, Crown found himself seated before President for Life Bokassa in a former colonial administration building that served as the presidential palace.11 With the U.S. Ambassador acting as interpreter, Crown, posing as a U.S. government expert, launched into a technical description of the documents’ many flaws, presenting a detailed analysis of fonts, typewriters, and handwriting used in creating the forgeries. To debunk the document was simple enough, but with each defect Crown pointed out, Bokassa seemed to grow increasingly uninterested.
Feeling the situation slipping away and fearing the possibility of becoming the first forensic document examiner to bore a head of state to death, Crown knew he had to switch tactics. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill. Bokassa, recognizing the U.S. currency, immediately perked up. The expert then offered the President for Life a friendly wager. Breaking diplomatic protocol, Crown pointed his finger at the African ruler and challenged him to have his secretary call the phone number on the letterhead: 1-8338-91-65886. If the secretary got an answer in the United States, then Crown would pay for the call with the fifty-dollar bill and Bokassa could keep the change. On the other hand, Crown explained, if no one answered, the secretary was to dial a different number in Fairfax, Virginia, Crown would speak with his wife, and Bokassa would pay for the call.12
Sensing a sucker’s bet when presented with one, Bokassa smiled. “Not to worry,” he said at last. “Tell Mr. Nixon I am not mad, all will be nice.”13 The documents crisis passed and the threat seemed forgotten. Bokassa proposed an official dinner that evening for his American guests, but then failed to show up for the fish-and-chicken spread. As toasts were exchanged with government dignitaries, Crown made note of the volatile and unpredictable personalities the Ambassador faced daily.
A few years later, on December 4, 1977, Bokassa declared himself Emperor and, enigmatically, Apostle.14 The French government, still eager to maintain friendly ties to the uranium-endowed country, provided a golden throne, jeweled crown, and scepter for the ceremony that mirrored Napoleon’s self-crowning as Emperor. 15 Within two years, the French tired of Bokassa’s antics, and supported a 1979 coup that ousted the Emperor.16 Forced into early retirement, Bokassa lived in exile in France and then Côte d’Ivoire for a few years before returning to his home country in 1987 to stand trial for torture, murder, and cannibalism.17 Still the survivor, he was released after serving seven years in prison and eventually became something of a nationalist figure at the time of his death at age seventy-five in 1996.18
No sooner was the case of the fraudulent documents settled in the Central African Empire, than more documents, all bearing the same fictitious letterhead, began appearing throughout Africa, including Sierra Leone, Côte d’Ivoire, Ghana, Mali, Upper Volta, Niger, Senegal, Gabon, and Guinea. Each detailed some fiendish American plot, including invasion and assassinations. 19 Although laughable in retrospect, these false rumors and obvious forgeries were taken seriously by many Third World leaders. In Guinea, President Ahmed Sékou Touré announced he would cut the throats of all Americans in Guinea if America were to invade his country.20
Africa was rife with supposed plots of “imperialist”-sponsored invasions based on fabricated documents that found eager buyers among the unsophisticated intelligence services of newly formed African countries. Over the following months, Crown traveled to half a dozen African nations to discredit the forgeries through irrefutable scientific analysis and defuse the suspicions of the Third World leaders.
The end of this forgery scheme came in December 1972 when Côte d’Ivoire security officials apprehended a Liberian citizen, Lemuel Walker, in Abidjan.21 His merchandise claimed to show an impending CIA invasion of the countries of Gabon and Mali based on fabricated letters, memos, letterhead stationery, blank documents, cachets, and identification cards from the nonexistent American group. After being arrested, Walker was unceremoniously rolled up in a rug to immobilize him and sent back to Liberia to face charges. There, under interrogation, he admitted to at least eighteen political misinformation operations targeting Guinea, Ghana, the Central African Empire, Egypt, Libya, Gabon, and Lebanon.22
Among Walker’s possessions, authorities found a forged ID that identified him as Walter H. Clifford, “Assistant Director” of the “Central Security Commission—Special Interlligence [sic] Agency, National Security Counsel [sic].”23 Walker had a dozen aliases along with a well-practiced sales pitch and a rap sheet that dated back a decade. His approach to African intelligence services had been both clever and simple. Flashing forged identity papers produced by a local printer to establish his bona fides, Walker approached embassy officials by claiming to work for a Western intelligence agency. Once inside an embassy, he would spin a tale of intelligence intrigue for his diplomatic audience. His pitch was straightforward: As a “secret agent,” he became recently blessed with a conscience that compelled him to turn against his imperialistic employers in favor of the greater good of African nationalism. His merchandise, though bogus, contained a few kernels of truth gleaned from reading Time and Newsweek magazines.24
The embassy officials, with little ability to verify Walker’s identity or authenticate his materials, would accept and forward the documents to their governments. Playing on the paranoia of local leaders, Walker found a willing, if not somewhat frugal, market for his clumsy forgeries. During his trial, the profit from the scheme was estimated to total a modest $3,307, which he supplemented along the way by forging checks and skipping out on hotel bills.25
Common criminals, such as the entrepreneurial Walker, are not new to political forgeries. Unstable political environments and intelligence services with limited resources or experience have historically proven attractive targets for forgers and con men. Immediately following World War II, forgers flourished by selling documents to the West eager for information relating to the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe.26 Working alone or in émigré groups, these hustlers sold bogus intelligence reports generated in so-called “paper mills” that sprang up throughout Europe.
Nearly always containing a few grains of truth culled from public sources, these counterfeits purported to provide intelligence on everything from Soviet troop strength to chemical weapons research. For the fledgling CIA, establishing or debunking the bona fides of the sellers and tracking down the source required considerable effort. At one point, 50 percent of the intelligence on file about the USSR was attributed to such “paper mills.”27 Eventually, as Western intelligence services built a capability to detect and catalog the forgers, they began circulating the names of known fabricators and con men in what became known as “burn lists.” These lists, which often included details of how the fabricator operated, were akin to an intelligence agency’s Better Business Bureau reports.28
More insidious than the criminals peddling false intelligence for a quick profit were the Soviet and Eastern Bloc intelligence services that produced a steady stream of forgeries in an effort to discredit American foreign policy and leadership. In contrast to Walker or the paper mills of post-World War II Europe, these schemes were not the product of intelligence outsiders motivated by money or a personal political agenda. These were professional enterprises backed by the resources of a sponsoring government’s intelligence service. Timed to coincide with political events and executed with precision, these forgeries were specifically aimed at creating a political advantage for the Soviets.
Forgeries as a political weapon have a rich heritage. Author, printer, scientist, diplomat, and signatory to the Declaration of Independence Benjamin Franklin played the role of forger and fabricator during the Revolutionary War. Franklin skillfully created a fictional letter in 1777 from Germany’s Frederick II of Hesse Kassel to King George III advocating more aggressive use of German mercenaries in combat against the colonists.
The Franklin forgery complained that not enough Germans were being killed to turn a decent profit, since the British paid bonuses to German royalty for each fatality. Perhaps, the spurious document suggested, it would be more humane to deny the wounded mercenaries medical attention and let them die, rather than live as invalids. Combined with offers of amnesty and farmland from the American side, Hessian soldiers deserted en masse. According to records, 5,000 of a reported 30,000 Germans put down their arms.29
As the Cold War’s geopolitical battlefield widened beyond Europe during the early 1950s, the KGB turned to forgeries and fabrications as an intelligence and foreign policy tool. A well-placed forgery could effectively strain diplomatic relations between otherwise friendly nations.30 When such documents appeared in the media, they could also weaken support for a government’s policies among its citizens or turn the tide of public opinion.
The KGB inherited an appreciation and expertise for disinformation from its predecessor organization, the Okhrana, which in 1903 published The Protocols of the Elders of Zion. The ambitious fabrication claimed existence of a worldwide Jewish conspiracy to create an “intensified centralization of government” and monopolies, and “revealed” the practice of ritual sacrifice of Christian children in religious ceremonies.31 A masterpiece of disinformation, the Protocols reportedly sparked anti-Jewish pogroms across Czarist Russia.
Although later analysis of the document placed it as a combination of an 1865 work opposing Napoleon II and a piece of fiction by a Prussian postal employee, the Protocols became an enduring “bestseller” of political forgeries.32 Eventually spreading beyond Russia’s borders to the West, it was later adopted by Hitler as a propaganda tool. Remarkably, Protocols continues to have credibility—more than a hundred years after its appearance—particularly in Middle Eastern countries as well as with a handful of extremist groups in Europe and the United States.33
Political forgeries intensified with Soviet rule. Beginning with a program of forgeries in 1923, these actions would eventually become known as “active measures” (aktivnyye meropriyatiya).34 By the 1950s, Soviet forgeries were primarily crafted to discredit the West in general and the United States in particular as well as create divisions between Western Allies. 35
In 1959, KGB forgers were consolidated into their own organization when the First Chief Directorate created Department D (for the Russian word dezinformatsiya) and staffed it with between forty and fifty specialists. When Western officials exposed the work of Department D, the KGB simply changed the name to Department A and continued turning out bogus documents.36
So intense was the Soviet forgery campaign, the U.S. Senate called for hearings. Testifying before a Senate Subcommittee in 1961 and using analysis supplied by Crown and other TSD document examiners, then Assistant Director of the Central Intelligence Agency Richard Helms presented 32 examples of forgeries or disinformation from the Soviet Bloc offensive.37 “Of the 32 documents packaged to look like communications or from American officials, 22 were meant to demonstrate imperialistic American plans and ambitions,” Helms testified. “Of these, 17 asserted U.S. interference in the affairs of Communist-selected free world countries. The charge of imperialism is the first of the two major canards spread by the Soviet bloc in Asia, the Middle East, Africa, Europe, and wherever else they command suitable outlets.”
The second theme, Helms pointed out, was that the United States was a menace to “world peace.”38 Other documents charged everything from secret agreements to plots by private businesses to take over local industries.39 In a world where new nations were emerging from former European colonies, the spread of Soviet lies could prove both destabilizing to fragile nations and devastating to U.S. foreign policy.
Technically and linguistically, the Soviet forgeries had little in common with the amateurish work of Walker and his documents filled with misspellings and convoluted syntax. Unlike the fiery editorials or self-serving news stories printed in Pravda and broadcast over state-run airwaves, the Soviets gave their forged documents credibility by eschewing the stultifying political rhetoric common to official Kremlin pronouncements. In fact, the forgeries often appeared first in newspapers or press reports outside the Soviet Bloc countries before turning up as “news” in the USSR’s government-run press.
These government-manufactured forgeries followed a pattern that separated them from the work of a single con man. They employed talented graphic artists who produced nearly flawless reproductions of letterheads and official stamps, paid close attention to the smallest details, such as the quality of the paper, and appropriately used colloquial or official language.
After British MI6 officer Harold “Kim” Philby defected to the USSR, he found work in the early 1970s in the KGB’s Active Measures Department churning out fabricated documents. Working from genuine unclassified and public CIA or U.S. State Department documents, Philby inserted “sinister” paragraphs regarding U.S. plans. The KGB would stamp the documents “top secret” and begin their circulation. For the Soviets, the Cambridge-educated Philby, a one-time journalist and senior British intelligence officer, was an invaluable asset, ensuring the correct use of idiomatic and diplomatic English phrases in their disinformation efforts. 40
One favorite KGB tactic was a pattern of “surfacing” a grainy photocopy or reprint of a slightly out of focus photograph, rather than a sham original document. The fuzzy photograph or barely legible photocopy not only added clandestine credibility to the spurious document for the gullible, it also made detailed analysis all the more difficult for the expert. “Newsworthy” documents were often distributed to several recipients anonymously by a “concerned citizen” who asked for no payment in return.41 The KGB developed distribution lists of sympathetic newspapers or well-known writers whose replay of the information would add even more credibility.
Unlike the work of amateurs, who often overreached by professing to uncover large and complex plots filled with international intrigue, the professionally produced forgeries were focused, well written, and subtle in their content. They offered a façade of plausibility by implying, rather than directly stating, the propagandist’s lie and by the arrangement of selected verifiable facts or the exclusion of others.
Walker’s productions, the post-World War II émigré “paper mills,” Soviet “active measures,” and even Ben Franklin’s forgeries, all played on the preexisting fears and prejudices of the intended audience or buyers.42 Just as important as the quality of the forgery, the Soviets well knew, was the ability of the forger to assess the emotional sensibilities of their targets. That is to say, a document confirming the fears of a target audience was likely to be believed, even if it was not perfect.43 In the opinion of President Ahmed Sékou Touré of Guinea during the early 1970s, “Documents can be forged, but the information is true.” 44
For Crown and other techs working with questioned documents, the discrediting of quality forgeries involved precise procedures and laborious, complex processes. Questioned signatures could be compared with known exemplars of an alleged writer. Examiners made comparisons of inks using ultraviolet light, infrared radiation, and the microscopic examination of ink tracks. To assist its examiners, the QDL maintained a collection of envelopes, inks, and specimens from typewriter fonts that could reveal the make, model, and date of manufacture. QDL files were always searched for evidence of prior use of specific typewriters in previous forgeries. The older typewriters with “swinging key bars,” IBM Selectrics, and daisy-wheel typewriters could sometimes be identified by specific wear or damage to characters.
Paper analysis under x-ray diffraction and microscopic examination of fibers could identify paper filler type and establish the source of paper pulp. Because countries used different inorganic chemicals as paper fillers, the origin of the paper could be compared to the alleged identity of the forger. For example, German paper would be filled with barium sulfate; French paper utilized talc. To the QDL examiner a document on paper containing barium sulfate that was said to originate in southern France became suspect.
With the introduction of photocopy technology, the Soviets began creating forgeries in the form of multigenerational copies to counter scientific examination. The technique assumed that laboratory analysis of photocopies could not establish whether a document was authentic. TSD examiners, however, found traces of evidence on photocopy documents that revealed clues of fabrication and sometimes even the origin of a suspect document. Details such as minor differences between font balls used on IBM Selectrics sold in Europe and those sold in the States could be detected in photocopies.
Subtle linguistic differences could reveal a document as a forgery. In one instance, a purported official U.S. document was labeled RESTRICTED! but carried a date after the U.S. government had ceased using the designation.45 Another telltale sign were formats used in official letters. A government organization might use the date format of “July 4, 1990” or “4 July 1990” but one form would be consistent on all official documents.46
While scientific analysis could confirm the authenticity of a document, determining the ultimate source of a forgery was more elusive. In this regard, the QDL examiners would offer their opinion based primarily on the forgery’s delivery, audience, and public replay. To this end, the basic thrust of the document examination included consideration of the decidedly nontechnical question: Who would benefit if the documents were believed? Through the combined skills of QDL examiners and counterintelligence specialists, data such as when a document surfaced and how it became known were evaluated to match prior modus operandi. “We found during the 1960s and 1970s,” Crown observed, “that the Soviets could produce excellent technical forgeries but were rarely ever able to disguise their motives.”
As the Soviet forgery offensive continued through the early 1970s, the QDL was regularly called on to debunk professionally constructed documents appearing in the Middle East, South America, Africa, and even Europe. In one instance, the Soviets surfaced an Airgram (a form of telegram) aimed at destabilizing NATO. Dated December 3, 1974, the document outlined instructions for bribing foreign officials and engaging in espionage against friendly countries. The forgery was unmasked by the signature of a nonexistent official, Robert Pont, and several format mistakes, such as the use of slash marks in place of parentheses.47
The KGB was a longtime supporter of organizations with public-appeal names, such as the U.S. Peace Council, and cultivated members of the U.S. press.48 They trained forgery departments in Eastern Bloc intelligence services for the specific task of targeting the West. In the mid-1970s, the Soviets refocused their “active measures” campaign to capitalize on the Watergate scandal, Congressional hearings into alleged CIA abuses, and the Vietnam War aftermath after perceiving a receptive world audience for propaganda that described U.S. policy “mistakes” and “abuses of power.” 49
In one particularly ugly case, a counterfeit document surfaced during the Carter administration intended to stir worldwide controversy. A small San Francisco newspaper called the Sun-Reporter published a 1980 forgery of a Presidential Review Memorandum on Africa. The headline the paper ran could not have been clearer: “Carter’s Secret Plan to Keep Black Africans and Black Americans at Odds.” As the White House issued angry denials, the Soviet news agency, TASS, made the story available in a variety of languages.50
This was not the first time the Soviets had “played the race card” in a disinformation campaign. In 1971, forged pamphlets supposedly from the Jewish Defense League were mailed to radical African-American groups. Yuri Andropov, then head of the KGB, approved the bogus pamphlets that called for a Jewish campaign against “black mongrels.” Then, in 1984, the Soviets forged Ku Klux Klan material timed to coincide with the Olympic Games in Los Angeles. The taunting material, distributed to African and Asian countries, read, in part: “The Olympic Games For Whites Only! African Monkeys! A Grand reception awaits you in Los Angeles! We are preparing for the Olympic games by shooting at black moving targets . . .”51
Often believed by members of the press as well as heads of state, the Soviets’ propaganda could not be ignored by U.S. diplomats and intelligence. However, even when programs such as QDL conclusively proved a document a forgery, it was only after the fact. When the documents were verified false and, in the rare instances, a retraction printed, the initial damage had already been done, making disinformation a particularly effective weapon in developing countries. The intensity of these campaigns continued nearly unabated throughout the Cold War, prompting hearings in 1961, 1980, and 1982.
So significant was the threat to U.S. policy and the need to combat disinformation that in September 1979, DCI Stansfield Turner asked Crown to brief President Carter on the extent of the Soviet efforts and the CIA’s capability to detect and defeat the campaigns. Turner and Crown met in the historic Old Executive Office Building, then walked through an underground passage to the White House.
In the Oval Office were President Jimmy Carter and National Security Advisor Zbigniew Brzezinski. Using samples of forgeries to describe the OTS methodology for identification and debunking, Crown’s presentation lasted several minutes beyond the allotted time. Fascinated by the Soviet offensive, Carter and his adviser recognized a powerful weapon that could strain diplomatic relations, generate headlines, and possibly determine elections both at home and abroad.
At a January 1984 conference of senior officers, the KGB’s First Chief Directorate reaffirmed a priority to “work unweariedly [sic] at exposing the adversary’s weak and vulnerable points.”52 In the context of the statement, “exposing” meant fabricating disinformation by the Active Measures Department of the First Chief Directorate.53 Some attendees at the conference may have been aware that one of the most cruel Soviet disinformation campaigns had already begun in 1983, aimed at laying blame for the spread of the AIDS virus at the U.S. doorstep.54
The Soviets launched a story in the Indian newspaper Patriot based on out-of-context U.S. Congressional testimony and quotes by anonymous scientists. The story, which attributed the disease to biological weapons research, seemed to have no journalistic legs at the time and quickly faded from sight.55 However, two years later, with AIDS spreading rapidly and public alarm growing, the Soviets replayed the allegations in a Soviet publication, Literaturnaya Gazeta. Specific details included assertions that American scientists at Fort Detrick, Maryland, created the disease for use as a biological weapon on specific population groups and were using military personnel to spread it worldwide.56 Within days, newspapers in Europe, Latin America, and Asia picked up the story. Like a successful marketing campaign for a new brand of soap, as the lie sold, the Soviets increased their efforts.
By 1986 at a Nonaligned Movement summit meeting in Harare, Zimbabwe, a bogus scientific paper in English was released detailing “evidence” that the United States had created AIDS. The story spread throughout Africa’s media while the KGB supplemented the campaign with rumors, posters, and flyers along with repetition on radio and television broadcasts.57
The United States responded in 1987 by increasing the distribution of AIDS-related information worldwide and offering a stern warning from then Surgeon General, C. Everett Coop, that a joint AIDS research agreement would not progress until the disinformation campaign ceased. Shortly thereafter Soviet scientists held a press conference to confirm the natural origins of the disease.58
In fact, the fabricated AIDS story had historical precedent. It was essentially a rehash of a 1952 Soviet propaganda campaign claiming the United States used biological weapons in the Korean conflict. The new element was the hot-button mention of AIDS. What was so damaging in the AIDS disinformation campaign was that fears of the dreaded disease gave the story credibility in popular culture. Similar to The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, the AIDS disinformation campaign continues to live in urban myth and conspiracy theory. A 2005 study conducted by the U.S. National Institute of Child Health and Human Development showed that almost half of 500 African-Americans surveyed believed that the AIDS-causing HIV virus is man-made; more than one quarter believed that AIDS was produced in a government laboratory; and 12 percent believed it was created and spread by the CIA.59
In the Sudan in 1969, a group of goat herders found a cache of weapons in a drainpipe along a rural trail. Hidden for the purpose of discovery, the eclectic collection included a “pen gun,” box of ammunition, and magnetic Limpet mine that could be attached to the side of a ship. There was also a note implicating a U.S. State Department official in an alleged political plot against the Sudanese government.
The timing of the goat herders’ discovery was nearly flawless. Sudan had broken diplomatic ties with the United States following the 1967 Arab-Israeli War. Thereafter, each country maintained “official” relations through “interest sections” housed in an embassy that flew the flag of a different nation. Adding to an already complicated situation were the policies of Sudan’s new government that seemingly leaned toward Moscow.
American diplomats in Khartoum needed to reveal the materials as fabrications and defuse the potential for political crisis certain to follow any public release about the find. A break came when a senior Sudanese official, Major Farouk Othman Hamdallah, Minister of Interior and State Security, privately let one of his American contacts know that he would make the goat herders’ find available for examination if the examiner was not an “official U.S.” representative.
Crown was briefed on the situation and instructed to go to Ethiopia. With the Ethiopian visa in his passport, he then sought a tourist visa from a Sudanese consular clerk in Washington. Since he would be in the neighboring country, Crown implored, he would like to take a few additional days as a tourist to visit the Sudan and experience its culture, history, people, and land. It was his lifelong dream to walk in the footsteps of the Great Mahdi who had slaughtered General Gordon in Khartoum in the 1880s. In return for the performance, Crown received a tourist visa and checked into Khartoum’s Acropole Hotel a few days later.
Unnoticed by Sudanese officials, Crown was introduced to U.S. Chargé d’Affaires George Curtis Moore, who had a reputation for being less than friendly to CIA activities. However, Moore’s apprehension evaporated as the two discovered a common sense of humor along with the realization that Crown’s expertise might resolve a difficult problem. Moore arranged for Crown to examine the goat herders’ find at Major Hamdallah’s private residence.
There Crown found the Limpet bomb, a pen gun, ammunition, and a typewritten note set out on a small table. After greeting the examiner, Hamdallah gave instructions to his servant and left the house along with Moore. “Have the servant call me when you’re finished,” said Moore, “and I’ll come back to pick you up.”
“Great idea,” Crown remembered thinking. “Here I am by myself, an American on an irregular tourist visa in a country the United States doesn’t have diplomatic relations with, unable to speak the local language and sitting in the Minister of Interior’s house handling deadly devices. If something happens, I don’t even know how to use the phone. If a couple bad guys come through the door, I’m in deep trouble.”
There was little to do except get to work. The servant offered the examiner bottles of Coke and Fanta. Based on briefings he received prior to his trip, Crown, although not an explosives expert, identified the Limpet mine as a U.S. device, probably recovered by the Cubans from the Bay of Pigs and subsequently given to the Soviets. The pen gun was of Pakistani manufacture and easily available in the Horn of Africa region.
Major Hamdallah’s servant brought another round of Coke and Fanta.
Crown examined each letter on the typewritten note under a microscope and referred often to his typewriter key classification. He eventually concluded the note had been written on an Olympia typewriter of recent manufacture. While American government officials were not known to use that model of Olympia typewriter, it was widely available in both West Germany and East Germany. These findings, although limited, were based on solid data and professional examination.
That evening Moore, Crown, and Hamdallah sat on red vinyl cushions in the Minister’s green curtain-draped living room. In presenting his findings and his conclusions, Crown described the typewriter involved, talked about how the U.S. government produced its official documents, and offered the determination that the circumstances of the find, the origin of the materials, and the content of the document itself pointed to a covert plot by the Soviets or their allies.
Hamdallah listened politely, said little, and offered no commitment to cooperate. He did consent to a request by Crown to pose for a photo, while Moore expressed appreciation for Crown’s work, which, he believed, had been sufficient to instill doubt in Hamdallah. The case was closed.
Crown’s visit had an unexpected impact on both Moore and Hamdallah. Within two months, Major Hamdallah requested to see Crown again. This time Sudan would welcome the examiner as an official visitor and Moore would insist that Crown stay at his residence. Hamdallah wanted more details about typewriter markings and other forgeries in Africa at the time. From Moore’s perspective, the meetings between U.S. officials and a senior Sudanese minister represented otherwise unobtainable openings for diplomatic contacts.
Sudanese President Jaafar Numeiri gradually shifted away from his Soviet Bloc orientation in 1969 and 1970, prompting an unsuccessful leftist coup in 1971. Hamdallah, one of the coup supporters, was in London at the time, but decided to return to Sudan in an attempt to reestablish an anti-Numeri organization.60 Arrested en route, he was returned to Sudan in custody, tried, and shot.
After Hamdallah’s death, details of his secret life were revealed. The Sudanese minister had cooperated at various times with East German as well as U.S. intelligence services.61 Markus Wolf, former head of East Germany’s foreign intelligence arm, described Hamdallah as an “intimate contact” with whom he had “developed a close personal as well as professional friendship.” 62
With Numeri still in power and Hamdallah replaced, Moore arranged for Crown to brief Ziada Satti, a senior Sudanese police official, on the scope of Soviet and indigenous forgeries circulating in the region. Satti listened attentively and recommended Moore and Crown take their information to the new Interior Minister. The Minister expressed particular interest in examination techniques, and quizzed Crown on U.S. prison construction before introducing the team to Brigadier General Rashid al-Din, head of the Sudanese National Security Agency. Al-Din was likewise receptive to the presentation, even mentioning the East Germans by saying, “You won’t see them around here anymore.” 63 Then, unexpectedly, al-Din brought up a name from Crown’s past. “Major Hamdallah had been a patriot, although now a dead one.”
A month later, the climb up Sudan’s diplomatic ladder continued with the CIA’s senior document examiner meeting President Numeiri himself. Crown recited his well-practiced litany of the many Soviet-originated forgeries bouncing around Africa. Numeiri was attentive and raised the subject of the 1969 find and the .22 caliber pen gun. Crown retold the story and his conclusions that the cache likely originated with the Soviets or East Germans.
Still suspicious about the CIA and its possible connection to the failed 1971 coup, the African leader probed Crown for information about his background and professional credentials.64 Crown responded that as a midlevel Pentagon forensic examiner, he cooperated with the Department of State and other U.S. government agencies when asked to do so.
Numeiri soon moved on to alleged Chinese support for Anyanya forces opposing his government, showing him photos and posters to analyze, then requested training for Sudanese examiners. The diplomat, Moore, quickly injected himself into the discussion, commenting that the U.S. government had “many ways” it could help and he would be pleased to work out the details.
As they left the president, Moore observed, “Dave, we make a great vaudeville team.”
Crown replied, “Yes, and we played the Palace.”
Both noted the irony in the fact that three years earlier a likely East German forgery intended to discredit the United States with the Sudanese had become the key to unlocking the door of normalized diplomatic relationships between the two countries.
An invitation to return to Khartoum arrived on Crown’s desk in March 1972. Satti, who had been promoted to Director General of Sudan’s Ministry of Interior and President Numeiri, were asking for another briefing. Crown reviewed his findings on the Chinese photographs, which were likely the work of Soviet propaganda. Numeiri expressed annoyance at policies of the Soviet Bloc, Libya, and Egypt intended to influence the Sudan. The U.S.-Sudanese relationship warmed with Numeiri’s changed policy, and career Foreign Service Officer Cleo Noel became the U.S. Ambassador to the Sudan. George Moore remained at his post in Khartoum, serving with Ambassador Noel until March of 1973 when both were taken hostage during a reception held at the Saudi Arabian Embassy and executed the next day by Black September terrorists.65
That event was one of many during the 1970s that would commit Crown, the QDL, and every other component of the TSD, to America’s war on terrorism. Increasingly the document examiners would turn their attention to understanding, tracking, and exposing the travel and identification papers used by terrorists. Already it was evident that passports, visas, and other documentation essential for terrorism could be forged, purchased from a commercial vendor, created from stolen blanks, altered from valid passports, or procured with assistance from corrupt officials.66According to a CIA report, “Clandestine Travel Facilitators: Key Enablers of Terrorism,” passports for terrorists were available for purchase from drug addicts in foreign countries or forgers based in Chad or Saudi Arabia. A genuine passport could be purchased in Pakistan with bogus visa stamps to age it.67
Putting their knowledge of forgeries to work, the QDL created a passport examination manual, known as the Redbook. The manual, with a distinctive fire engine-red cover, included samples of forged passports, stolen passports, and fabricated entry/exit stamps.68 In all, the Redbook contained exemplars of thirty-five forged passports and cachets from forty-five different countries.69 Each example was illustrated in color with its faults clearly marked. Printed in six languages, the Redbook was made available to U.S. Customs and Immigration officials and countries cooperating with U.S. counterterrorism and counternarcotics programs.
The 1986 edition of the Redbook reported that over fifty individuals carrying forged passports provided by terrorist organizations had been identified before they could carry out their terrorism assignments. The Redbook’s authors also concluded a brief introduction to document examination with a cautiously optimistic yet ominous paragraph that read:
Terrorism is a plague that threatens all of us. It must be stopped. Use the REDBOOK! . . . whether at border control, police registration, or visa application. If we screen travelers and check their passports, as experience proves, terrorists will lose their ability to travel undetected and international terrorism will come one step closer to being stopped! The threat is real!70
The threat was indeed real. In 1986, as international terrorism continued to grow, OTS document specialists trained hundreds of immigration and border control officials to spot spurious passports, visas, travel cachets, and other forms of documentation. OTS supplemented the Redbook and training with a film titled The Threat Is Real that was translated and distributed among law enforcement personnel in any country willing to cooperate with the U.S. counterterrorism effort.71
By 1992 use of the Redbook and a companion passport-examination manual had been credited for the apprehension of more than 200 individuals carrying forged passports provided by terrorist groups. The manuals were annually updated as the quality and sophistication of the terrorist documents improved each year.72
Time showed that terrorists became better at forging passports, and rapidly adapted computer software to help them with forgeries. Instruction booklets began circulating among terrorists on how to “clean” visa cachets and alter passports. Genuine official documents came from Arab “volunteers” fighting in Afghanistan who were ordered to give their passports to commanders upon arrival at their unit. If killed, the “volunteer’s” documents were altered, usually by photo substitution, and passed along to another operative.73 Prior to 9/11, al-Qaeda mastermind Khalid Sheikh Mohammed traveled on a Saudi passport with bogus cachet stamps to “age” it.74 Now, twenty-five years after Curt Moore’s death, the war on terrorism would dominate U.S. intelligence.