Confessions - Part 8, Return
Returning to London was like returning to another planet. I had been instructed to call a number to be picked up at the airport. I had been warned to remain vigilant till in safe hands. But, instead of being whisked from the airport I was told to take the subway across London and call from a certain station. Since I had to do this I decided I might just as well go home and see my family and dump my cases. So after a relieved homecoming and a cup of tea I called the number again. "'Where have you been?" Brief explanation. Very suspicious. Now my instructions were to walk down a certain street and a car would pull alongside. In this way I found myself back at the same house as before, now for the debriefing.
When A had briefed me he had tape-recorded the conversation. So now I had brought my own tape recorder and one cassette, enough for 1 hours playtime. But, incredibly the debriefing lasted eight hours. There were three tape recorders, mine, A's and D's all running, and several other people flitting in and out. Most of the questioning was done by X, D's boss. Since I was leaving early the next morning for the U.S. and since I had to repack and make a few phone calls, and in any case was exhausted from the journey, I first gave them an overall outline of the meetings in Moscow, and the important results. I also let them make copies of the papers.
But things quickly became more complex. Minute details were requested, "how did he look?", "what was he wearing?" . . . then they were (naturally) very interested in IA, and lo and behold, after a few minutes of checking told me he was a Colonel Vasky of the KGB. It seems too pat now - but it was an unreal experience. The most difficult part was when they began to put me on the defensive "what's the matter, don't you want to help the Soviet Jews", “only this way can we find out if one of them is an informer", "are you trying to gloss over something". They didn't actually physically restrain me, or threaten me, but now I know in a very small measure what a real interrogation must feel like. And these were my "friends".
I told them practically everything. At times I regretted it but on a minute by minute schedule it is difficult to avoid. At times things got confused, and this made me even more defensive. The thought kept recurring, which I gave voice to, what if my one percent suspicion of them was correct (within me it was growing exponentially). Finally, when I was practically tottering they called a stop (they had not let me use the telephone during the interrogation), and delivered me home. We were all good friends at the end, they even said I had done a “good job", to which I replied I had done what I considered right.
As I told them I would, when I got back to the States, I did some checking and, although to this day I know nothing more definite about them (nor want to), I believe they were genuine.
Many Jews have visited the would-be emigrants in the Soviet Union in the last few years. Many other people have had more dramatic and damaging experiences in the Soviet Union than I. But, I present the above description as one man's experience from a particular point of view under prevailing circumstances. There were implications. Fortunately for me the very day of my leaving the USSR the scientists I had met - now having more cases to quote - called an unprecedented news conference in Moscow and told the world about the infamous Soviet education exit tax. The morning of my arrival it was reported in the New York Times and Washington Post. This made my task a lot easier. I also gave copies of Levich's letter to certain people, and an op-ed piece on it appeared in the Washington Post.
As a result of this and other contacts, a few of us set up the Committee of Concerned Scientists, principally to help the Soviet Jewish scientists. This is now an on-going organization, which has interested itself in the U.S. - U.S.S.R. Scientific and Technological Exchange Agreements initiated by President Nixon with Chairman Brezhnev in May, 1972. We believe the treatment of scientists within the Soviet Union in the broadest context, including such so-called dissidents as Andrei Sakharov, cannot be dissociated from the exchange of scientific information for the greater benefit of the U.S.S.R. However, these views are expounded upon elsewhere.
[*In his book "Refusenik: trapped in the Soviet Union," (Houghton-Mifflin, 1981) Mark Azbel tells a story (p. 252-253) that confirms my activity in 1972 in the Soviet Union. I was the mysterious unnamed "American scientist" and it was through my mistaken intervention that Mark Azbel made the decision to begin the process of emigrating from the Soviet Union, thus becoming a refusenik:
"During a break from the meetings, while we were all moving around, and making one another's acquaintance, an American scientist came up to me and introduced himself "I wonder if I could talk to you for a minute," he said. "Could we step outside and take a walk before the conference starts up again?" In the Soviet Union, where "the walls have ears," this is an invitation you hear very often—but hardly from a Western scientist! I accepted, and we left the building. When it was possible to talk without being overheard, he began with a question that simply astounded me.
"Is it true that you want to go to Israel?" I was really amazed, because I had told no one of my intentions. But I decided not to lie about it, and said yes.
"Well, I'm a friend of Veniamin Levitch. I know that you and he are very close. He's told me a lot about you." Once more I was astonished, because Professor Levitch and I didn't know each other particularly well. But I didn't want to let Levitch down: maybe now that he had applied for his visa, he needed all the support he could get from other scientists, and he may have had some very good reason for mentioning me to this man. So again I said yes.
"What I wanted to ask you is this," said the American. "Do you have any suggestions to offer as to how someone like myself could help? What can we do to assist the people who are trying to get to Israel?"
I had a great many ideas; I had thought about it constantly for an entire year. Nothing could have been more encouraging than this question. Because the Soviets valued their international scientific contacts and presumably would not want seriously to alienate scientists from other countries, I felt that concern on the part of friends from abroad was a tremendous asset to those of us who were trying to emigrate. Here was someone who evidently was willing, not only to interest himself in the trials faced by beleaguered fellow-scientists, but to take some risks on their behalf I was very grateful to have met him. We conferred for a couple of hours.
It was more than a year before I discovered why this man had sought me out. When he heard my name and ascertained that I was a friend of Professor Levitch, he concluded it would be most unlikely that there were two Professors Azbel, both of whom knew Levitch, and both of whom were hoping to leave for Israel. So he believed I was the man about whom he had heard. This was a mistake. There was another Azbel, David, who had recently applied for his exit visa, had been refused, and who at that time—although a man over sixty years of age—was about to start the battle on behalf of Soviet Jews for which he later became so well known."]
It was Professor Levich who coined the term "Slaves of the Twentieth Century" to describe the scientists who are mere chattels of the state. Alexander Solzhenitsyn's "Gulag Archipelago" provides us with the historical insight needed to understand the full implications of that phrase. While my own experiences were comparatively mild, I nevertheless feel Western Scientists should be aware of the circumstances. We pose no real threat to the Soviet State, we seek only to help individuals, thereby perhaps to improve human society.
I remember fondly the time I was invited to the home of Sen. Edward Kennedy, in Maclean, Virginia, when Prof. Levich was finally released from the Soviet Union. He was affiliated with Tel Aviv and New York Universities until his death several years ago. In telling my story I eliminated some events, not only because of considerations of space, but also for fear of affecting the situation of others still trapped at that time in the Soviet Union. The eventual release of all the people mentioned here, and the downfall of the Soviet Union, happily have made these considerations outdated.
When A had briefed me he had tape-recorded the conversation. So now I had brought my own tape recorder and one cassette, enough for 1 hours playtime. But, incredibly the debriefing lasted eight hours. There were three tape recorders, mine, A's and D's all running, and several other people flitting in and out. Most of the questioning was done by X, D's boss. Since I was leaving early the next morning for the U.S. and since I had to repack and make a few phone calls, and in any case was exhausted from the journey, I first gave them an overall outline of the meetings in Moscow, and the important results. I also let them make copies of the papers.
But things quickly became more complex. Minute details were requested, "how did he look?", "what was he wearing?" . . . then they were (naturally) very interested in IA, and lo and behold, after a few minutes of checking told me he was a Colonel Vasky of the KGB. It seems too pat now - but it was an unreal experience. The most difficult part was when they began to put me on the defensive "what's the matter, don't you want to help the Soviet Jews", “only this way can we find out if one of them is an informer", "are you trying to gloss over something". They didn't actually physically restrain me, or threaten me, but now I know in a very small measure what a real interrogation must feel like. And these were my "friends".
I told them practically everything. At times I regretted it but on a minute by minute schedule it is difficult to avoid. At times things got confused, and this made me even more defensive. The thought kept recurring, which I gave voice to, what if my one percent suspicion of them was correct (within me it was growing exponentially). Finally, when I was practically tottering they called a stop (they had not let me use the telephone during the interrogation), and delivered me home. We were all good friends at the end, they even said I had done a “good job", to which I replied I had done what I considered right.
As I told them I would, when I got back to the States, I did some checking and, although to this day I know nothing more definite about them (nor want to), I believe they were genuine.
Many Jews have visited the would-be emigrants in the Soviet Union in the last few years. Many other people have had more dramatic and damaging experiences in the Soviet Union than I. But, I present the above description as one man's experience from a particular point of view under prevailing circumstances. There were implications. Fortunately for me the very day of my leaving the USSR the scientists I had met - now having more cases to quote - called an unprecedented news conference in Moscow and told the world about the infamous Soviet education exit tax. The morning of my arrival it was reported in the New York Times and Washington Post. This made my task a lot easier. I also gave copies of Levich's letter to certain people, and an op-ed piece on it appeared in the Washington Post.
As a result of this and other contacts, a few of us set up the Committee of Concerned Scientists, principally to help the Soviet Jewish scientists. This is now an on-going organization, which has interested itself in the U.S. - U.S.S.R. Scientific and Technological Exchange Agreements initiated by President Nixon with Chairman Brezhnev in May, 1972. We believe the treatment of scientists within the Soviet Union in the broadest context, including such so-called dissidents as Andrei Sakharov, cannot be dissociated from the exchange of scientific information for the greater benefit of the U.S.S.R. However, these views are expounded upon elsewhere.
[*In his book "Refusenik: trapped in the Soviet Union," (Houghton-Mifflin, 1981) Mark Azbel tells a story (p. 252-253) that confirms my activity in 1972 in the Soviet Union. I was the mysterious unnamed "American scientist" and it was through my mistaken intervention that Mark Azbel made the decision to begin the process of emigrating from the Soviet Union, thus becoming a refusenik:
"During a break from the meetings, while we were all moving around, and making one another's acquaintance, an American scientist came up to me and introduced himself "I wonder if I could talk to you for a minute," he said. "Could we step outside and take a walk before the conference starts up again?" In the Soviet Union, where "the walls have ears," this is an invitation you hear very often—but hardly from a Western scientist! I accepted, and we left the building. When it was possible to talk without being overheard, he began with a question that simply astounded me.
"Is it true that you want to go to Israel?" I was really amazed, because I had told no one of my intentions. But I decided not to lie about it, and said yes.
"Well, I'm a friend of Veniamin Levitch. I know that you and he are very close. He's told me a lot about you." Once more I was astonished, because Professor Levitch and I didn't know each other particularly well. But I didn't want to let Levitch down: maybe now that he had applied for his visa, he needed all the support he could get from other scientists, and he may have had some very good reason for mentioning me to this man. So again I said yes.
"What I wanted to ask you is this," said the American. "Do you have any suggestions to offer as to how someone like myself could help? What can we do to assist the people who are trying to get to Israel?"
I had a great many ideas; I had thought about it constantly for an entire year. Nothing could have been more encouraging than this question. Because the Soviets valued their international scientific contacts and presumably would not want seriously to alienate scientists from other countries, I felt that concern on the part of friends from abroad was a tremendous asset to those of us who were trying to emigrate. Here was someone who evidently was willing, not only to interest himself in the trials faced by beleaguered fellow-scientists, but to take some risks on their behalf I was very grateful to have met him. We conferred for a couple of hours.
It was more than a year before I discovered why this man had sought me out. When he heard my name and ascertained that I was a friend of Professor Levitch, he concluded it would be most unlikely that there were two Professors Azbel, both of whom knew Levitch, and both of whom were hoping to leave for Israel. So he believed I was the man about whom he had heard. This was a mistake. There was another Azbel, David, who had recently applied for his exit visa, had been refused, and who at that time—although a man over sixty years of age—was about to start the battle on behalf of Soviet Jews for which he later became so well known."]
It was Professor Levich who coined the term "Slaves of the Twentieth Century" to describe the scientists who are mere chattels of the state. Alexander Solzhenitsyn's "Gulag Archipelago" provides us with the historical insight needed to understand the full implications of that phrase. While my own experiences were comparatively mild, I nevertheless feel Western Scientists should be aware of the circumstances. We pose no real threat to the Soviet State, we seek only to help individuals, thereby perhaps to improve human society.
I remember fondly the time I was invited to the home of Sen. Edward Kennedy, in Maclean, Virginia, when Prof. Levich was finally released from the Soviet Union. He was affiliated with Tel Aviv and New York Universities until his death several years ago. In telling my story I eliminated some events, not only because of considerations of space, but also for fear of affecting the situation of others still trapped at that time in the Soviet Union. The eventual release of all the people mentioned here, and the downfall of the Soviet Union, happily have made these considerations outdated.
posted by Jack Cohen at 9:00 AM
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