The Observer Magazine of 23 November 1990 had a mock-up on the cover of Sean Connery lying side by side with Saddam Hussein, referring to Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait a few months previously (‘If only Bond had been there: a guide to spying in the 90s’).
David Walker argued that with the Gulf war and the Falklands in 1982 ‘what was missing was a good old-fashioned spy on the ground’. It was, he wrote, ‘the difference between getting satellite pictures showing Iraqi tank positions near Basra and having Hussein’s mistress on the payroll and his pillow talk on the record’.
After the end of the Cold War, intelligence bosses faced a problem: how to recruit intelligent people when the enemy had left the field. ‘If communism is collapsing, what is the purpose of MI5 and MI6?’
A fashion shoot differentiated between an ‘old school’ Cold War spy – ‘who believed in the fight against the evils of Marxism. His preferred wear in the field was fur hat, boots and Loden coat’ (what, even in Cuba?) – and a ‘New Style’ one – the 90s recruit ‘believes in the terrorist threat. His favoured field wear is tourist casual and keffiyeh’.
Walker reminded us that Britain’s intelligence operators were first and foremost civil servants and were shown tapes of Yes, Minister as part of their training. ‘The reality has always been, of course, a lot less attractive than the popular conception,’ said Walker. Most intelligence work was ‘mind-numbingly routine, consisting of communication intercepts and decodes, spotting aberrations from the norm’.
‘Only the naive believe that events in Eastern Europe have put an end to Soviet spying in the West,’ wrote Walker. ‘The head of MI5’s memos will have emphasised how the wild card factor in Soviet politics underpins the need for eternal vigilance.’ Evidently not vigilant enough.
