He detailed the intelligence he had provided the Americans, from war plans to the Soviet command-and-control systems in the Warsaw Pact in a time of war to details of the secret Soviet command bunkers. He was upset at criticism that he had somehow subverted the Polish Army through his actions. He said he wanted the Polish Army “to be as strong as possible so that it could assert itself when the need arose.” He said he did not view the U.S. Army as Poland’s enemy. “He wanted Poland to be neutral or pro-USA,” Brzezinski noted.
The meetings in Brzezinski’s office continued through the week, with Kuklinski answering questions about the planned Soviet invasion in 1980 and the martial-law preparations in 1981. Brzezinski at one point spoke; he emphasized the geopolitical conditions of the 1970s, “stressing that the Soviet Union was seeking to attain strategic superiority, and how important the information that Kuklinski provided was in offsetting that.”
Over the course of the meetings, the prosecutors grew more cordial, and Brzezinski sensed a growing affinity for Kuklinski. After the meetings ended, Ambassador Kozminski told Brzezinski that he had not fully grasped the heroic dimension of Kuklinski’s actions. Brzezinski was also deeply moved, particularly by one of Kuklinski’s final comments.
“Kuklinski told the Polish officers that even if he is fully rehabilitated, his life will not change in any significant degree, that he realizes that he has nothing to return to in Poland, and his life has been altered forever,” Brzezinski noted. “He made no reference, but I think there was also an allusion here, to the fact that he lost his two sons―and he probably would not have lost them if he had not undertaken the task which he shouldered.”
As for Kuklinski, he says he has asked himself many times about the price he and his family paid for his decision to reach out to the West.
*
The months passed without word from the Polish government, and Ambassador Kozminski grew concerned. He knew Miller was advocating on Kuklinski’s behalf in Warsaw, and there had also been some important if isolated gestures of support for Kuklinski in Poland. In May, Kuklinski learned he had been named “Honorary Citizen of the Royal City of Krakow.” The city council had invited him to return to Poland to accept his award. Gdansk followed with a similar invitation.
In June 1997, when Ambassador Kozminski returned to Poland for meetings in advance of the Madrid NATO summit, he went to see Miller to review the situation. He also met with President Kwasniewski and reiterated his view that the matter had to be resolved promptly.
On July 8 and 9, President Kwasniewski led a delegation of Polish officials to Madrid for the NATO summit, at which Poland, Hungary, and the Czech Republic were formally invited to join the alliance. On July 10, President Clinton flew from Madrid to Warsaw, where he received an enthusiastic welcome from more than ten thousand cheering Poles as he stood with President Kwasniewski in Castle Square.
Clinton also visited the Presidential Palace, where he and his aide, Daniel Fried, were led by President Kwasniewski and Ambassador Kozminski onto a flagstone terrace that overlooked a garden.
The two presidents and their aides sat at a table for about twenty minutes and discussed several issues too sensitive to include in any public agenda. One was Kuklinski. Clinton said he wanted to thank the Polish president for his involvement in resolving the matter. Clinton did not ask for anything; his expression of gratitude was intended to send its own message.
Later in the month, at the request of the White House, Brzezinski met separately with Miller and Kwasniewski in Poland, pressing them to move more forcefully in resolving the Kuklinski matter, which Brzezinski felt was stalling. Kwasniewski made clear there was still opposition at the highest levels of the Polish government, including the Justice Ministry and the chief military prosecutor’s office. But he agreed to inject himself more actively in the case.
Around Labor Day, Ambassador Kozminski received a call from the Polish justice minister, who said Kuklinski would be exonerated on grounds that he had acted out of “higher necessity.” The decision was read to Kuklinski in Brzezinski’s office, and he was told he was free to return to Poland without fear of arrest. The Polish military prosecutor’s office revealed the decision publicly on September 22.
The announcement drew scorn from Kuklinski’s critics. In October, about thirty retired generals released a letter calling the justification of Kuklinski’s actions “an accusation against us.” That same month, Polish military prosecutor Piotr Daniluk said in an interview with
Gazeta Wyborcza,
the largest and most influential newspaper in Poland, that Kuklinski had not acted for a higher purpose but rather for money.
At a conference just outside of Warsaw in November, Marshal Victor Kulikov, the former Warsaw Pact commander, disparaged Kuklinski as a traitor “who gave all our military plans to the enemy,” and suggested that his intelligence value to the United States had been exaggerated. Responding a few minutes later, Brzezinski told Kulikov that thanks in particular to Kuklinski’s intelligence, the entire Soviet command, including Kulikov, would have been dead within three hours of a Soviet attack on NATO. “Kulikov was stunned, and simply gulped,” Brzezinski recalled.
In December, the
Los Angeles Times
quoted Jaruzelski as citing the thousands of other officers who had served in the Polish Army. “If you come to the conclusion that Kuklinski’s act was the act of a hero―that he was helping Poland―then it’s logical to ask: Are all the others traitors?”
Shortly after the decision, Kuklinski issued a short statement in which he said he accepted the decision with some relief but that it had “symbolic rather than practical meaning for me. I thank God for letting me live to see this moment.” In interviews in the United States and Poland, he has repeatedly denied being blackmailed or motivated by money when he reached out to the United States. Kuklinski has also since said that during his nine years of clandestine activity, he received only limited sums of money from the Americans for operational expenses, along with communications and technical equipment like transmitters, cameras, film, and concealment devices.
In an interview with
Newsweek
’s Andrew Nagorski in October 1997, Kuklinski said that he hoped someday to return to Poland, in part to thank the people of Krakow for inviting him to accept honorary citizenship, but that he did not expect to remain in public view. “I’d like to retreat into the shadows,” he said.
Forden was pleased at Kuklinski’s news, but he was still bothered by the compromise of the Gull operation. It had been sixteen years since General Skalski cited “Rome sources” as the basis for the information about the leak that had forced Kuklinski to flee Poland. Forden knew the Gull operation had never involved Rome. After the exfiltration, CIA counterintelligence was asked to try to identify the meaning of “Rome sources” and to trace the leak. The FBI was also consulted. But no answers were found.
In 1992, Forden found some tantalizing clues: The popular Italian weekly magazine
Panorama
published an interview with Boris Solomatin, the KGB
Rezident
in Rome in the period 1976-1982. Asked about his sources, the Soviet spymaster said he had “four men of gold.” He added, “We could get everything we wanted.” One of those men, he claimed, was an important spy in the Vatican. That same year, Forden also read an article in
Time
magazine by Carl Bernstein that described a secret alliance between CIA director Casey and Pope John Paul II to support Solidarity, including trips to the Vatican and the sharing of intelligence.
Forden began to wonder whether Casey or other U.S. officials had revealed too much in their secret dealings with the Vatican. A 1996 book by Bernstein and Italian journalist Marco Politi seemed to confirm his fears about a Vatican connection. The book suggested that a short time after Kuklinski provided the Americans with Poland’s martial-law plans in August 1981, the pope was told by Washington of Kuklinski’s information.
Then Forden learned that his friend Jack Platt, who had helped with security during Kuklinski’s meetings with the Polish prosecutors, had gotten to know Solomatin, who was now almost eighty, through his legitimate business dealings. (Platt’s company worked with former KGB operatives to provide security for visiting American businessmen and to investigate Russian companies to screen out those with links to organized crime.)
Platt knew Solomatin as a chain-smoker with a full head of hair, bushy eyebrows, and often bloodshot eyes. Solomatin could be charming and clever as he rattled off his war stories, but Platt suspected the old KGB man was dismayed that he had given his life to a cause that no longer had meaning.
In fall of 1997, Platt was making another trip to Moscow for business. Forden asked him to visit Solomatin and gave him some background notes, citing the
Panorama
interview, the book on the Pope, and a list of questions for Solomatin about his sources in Rome. Was his “spy” in the Vatican the key to understanding the “Rome sources” mystery? Many years had passed, and Forden hoped Platt might be able to extract an answer.
In Moscow, Platt met Solomatin over drinks and caviar. Solomatin laughed when Platt asked about his comments to
Panorama
. “I was joking around with these journalists,” Solomatin said, adding that it was ridiculous to think he would actually reveal his sources. Solomatin claimed that what he had meant in the interview was that all an intelligence officer needed to be successful were several well-placed sources. Solomatin said he had heard of Kuklinski, but knew nothing of how Moscow had learned of the leak of the martial-law plans.
Platt told Forden when he returned from Moscow that they were no closer to the truth than before.
“Do you believe him?” Forden asked Platt.
“I do,” Platt replied. He knew Solomatin might have lied to him or might have lied to
Panorama
. But he also knew no good case officer ever betrayed a source. That was a vow they all made, and their word had to be good. The answer would probably die with Solomatin, Platt believed. Forden realized he would have to reconcile himself to living with the mystery.
On February 28, 1998, Kuklinski was invited to the Polish Embassy on Sixteenth Street in Washington for a celebration organized by the Polish-American Congress commemorating the 252nd anniversary of the birth of Kosciuszko, the Polish hero in America’s Revolutionary War, who has long been a symbol of the friendship between America and Poland. Kuklinski, the guest of honor, was making his first visit to the embassy. He shared a poignant moment with Ambassador Kozminski, who offered him a new Polish passport. Kozminski then introduced him to the hundreds of admirers who were attending the festivities.
The next month, Kozminski received a letter from Forden, who recalled their conversation one year earlier at the luncheon in Virginia during which Kozminski had expressed optimism about resolving Kuklinski’s case.
“I was skeptical,” Forden admitted in his letter. “You were right!” He thanked Kozminski for his “wise and courageous effort.”
On Monday, April 27, 1998, the week Congress was to approve Poland’s membership in NATO, Kuklinski flew to Warsaw on a Polish airline for a visit that took him to six Polish cities over ten days. Kuklinski was overwhelmed with emotion. During the flight, a Polish television reporter interviewed him. “It’s hard for me to breathe,” Kuklinski told the reporter.
“If I could find a moment, I’d like to shave off my beard, change my appearance completely so as to be unrecognizable, and walk along Marszalkowska [Street], Nowy Swiat, Krakowskie Przedmiescie [in Warsaw city center], and to the Old Town―that would be fantastic. But it’s probably impossible.”
Asked what he hoped to see during his visit, he said he admired the rhododendrons and azaleas that bloomed in the United States in springtime. In Poland, he said, his favorite flower was the lilac. “I love this time of year,” he said, “and I want to see lilacs, and carry some to the grave of my mother.”
After the plane landed in Warsaw, a SWAT team of security officers sent by the Polish prime minister boarded the airplane, saluted, and told Kuklinski they were there to protect him. They whisked him through a private exit to avoid the press and drove him to the residence of the Polish prime minister, Jerzy Buzek. There, Kuklinski had lunch with Buzek, his wife, and closest aides, after which both men stepped before a crowd of more than 100 reporters. Buzek told the reporters Kuklinski had acted heroically in a time of great peril for Poland. “We can presume that these decisions saved our country from bloodshed,” he said.
Kuklinski became emotional. “My 25-year journey to a free Poland is over,” he said. “Today I feel that freedom. I am counting on your sensitivity, on your allowing me to see this country as I wanted.”