KGB superstar spies success

Burning bridges is something former KGB general Oleg Danilovich Kalugin does well. When the ex-spy revealed his true identity two years ago, he publicly renounced everything he once stood for.


"It's a painful thing", said Kalugin, 57, in an interview with The Moscow Times. "It's like parting with part of yourself. After all, I devoted the bulk of my life to the system".


But it hasn't been without rewards. He's rich. He's famous. He's on Alists for Washington parties. and every time he makes another statement, about Soviet intelligence he sets off fireworks.


Kalugin has regularly found his way into the limelight since 1990, when he defected from both the KGB and his past. He informed the world that the whole system could never change unless the Soviet Union rid itself of the KGB, which he said controlled every aspect of society.


More recently, world attention focused on Kalugin again when he revealed that the Soviet Union had contact with three American prisoners of war in Vietnam, long after they were purportedly released by Hanoi.


The KGB has denied Kalugiu's statements, and even the CIA refuted his claim that one of the POWs was a former CIA official. American officials involved with hunting down POWs say his tales are a bit exaggerated but not totally without merit.


He easily casts off those who doubt him, claiming he has no reason to spin elaborate tales. Shrugging off his decision to go public on volatile issues as normal, Kalugin said: "I have said many, many things. This is just a small episode with my former organization. Just one episode among hundreds".


Kalugin quickly rose through the ranks of the notorious intelligence


organization. He was entrusted for almost 12 years with the mission of spying on the former Soviet Union's Cold War adversary. He at first chaperoned, and later befriended, key British agents George Blake and Kim Philby. "He became one of Andropov's blueeyed boys", says his friend George Blake. In 1980 he became second in command of the Leningrad KGB.


According to Blake, Kalugin's last posting signified that something "went wrong". "He was still very senior", said Blake. "But he moved sideways instead of up". Blake refused to speculate on why. But it was soon after his posting to Leningrad that Kalugin sent the nation's top brass reeling.


Assigned to internal security in Leningrad, Kalugin "learned the ugly truth about our own leadership and the real mechanisms of society". The former spy insists he tried to buck the system as far back as 1985, including personal appeals to Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev. He claims his counterculture views sparked then KGB chairman Viktor Chebrikov to threaten him with dismissal.


"My battle started behind the scenes", Kalugin said. "I realized that if the head is rotting we must cut it off and destroy the system which breeds corruption. But I couldn't go public at that time because it would have been suicide".


Blake, who has been privy to some of Kalugin's inner feelings, said, "I realized that he had democratic views, but that didn't mean that I saw he would shake the entire KGB".


Kalugin's most startling episode, though, was his coming out.


He was stripped of his KGB pension and status by Gorbachev. In one fell swoop he went from highpowered nomenclature to persona nongrata.


"He was in disgrace", Blake said. "Like in the times of Stalin when people were in trouble, their friends and relatives turned away from them".


But unlike those who defected under regimes of ironfisted Soviet rule, Kalugiu did not have to give up his country.


Still, Kalugin's actions had repercussions with his former employer that persist today. At first, his every move was watched. and at times, he says he felt threatened. While the KGB's watchful eye eased over time, on the morning news broke of the failed August coup, Kalugin peered out his window to see a black car with KGB agents sitting in front of his apartment. He claims they followed him for three days, looming in the background while he stood guard at the White House.


While now, an avowed reformist, Kalugin's past still seeps into some of his statements. "There was no statesponsored terror", he offered. When pressed, he corrected himself. "If you mean to say that Russians lived in a state of terror, oh yes". Kalugin washes his hands of the KGB's dirty work, asserting his chief responsibilities were abroad. But he does soften a little. "As a member of the organization I bear part of the responsibility".


At a time when argument rages over whether the secrets stored within the KGB's files should be made public, Kalugin sides with those who say Russians have a right to know.


"Those KGB files that would demonstrate to the Soviet people the ugly, inhuman nature of the regime they lived under should be opened", he said.


But when it comes to naming names of those who conspired with the KGB, he is vehemently opposed. "If they were given this information it would throw this country into civil strife, for sure", he said, condescendingly. "Millions were informants. and now if their names are known, what would happen? Can you imagine. They would just start killing each other".


These days Kalugin tinkers with politics, consults on business issues for Western firms, listens to his collection of 700 records, bought in the States, and, of course, writes books.


Having just sealed a deal with the American talent agency William Morris Agency, he will leave for the States this month on another threeweek whirlwind lecture tour. His autobiography, "Burning the Bridges", is due out this fall and he is already at work on his next book.


This time though it will be a novel "I'm going to try my hand at fiction", he said. Whether or not he will emerge as a talented writer is yet to be seen. One thing is for sure, though. The story line can not possibly surpass the events of his life.