Body of Secrets: Anatomy of the Ultra-Secret National Security Agency (14 page)

Even at
the stately National War College in Washington, seminars would occasionally be
reduced to "extreme right-wing, witch-hunting, mudslinging revivals"
and "bigoted, one-sided presentations advocating that the danger to our
security is internal only," according to a report prepared by a member of
Secretary of Defense McNamara's staff.

The Senate
Foreign Relations Committee, in a report on the problem of right-wing extremism
in the military, warned that there was "considerable danger" in the
"education and propaganda activities of military personnel" that had
been uncovered. "Running through all of them is a central theme that the
primary, if not exclusive, danger to this country is internal Communist
infiltration," said the report.

Among the
key targets of the extremists, the committee said, was the Kennedy
administration's domestic social program, which many ultraconservatives accused
of being communistic. The "thesis of the nature of the Communist
threat," the report warned, "often is developed by equating social
legislation with socialism, and the latter with Communism. . . . Much of the
administration's domestic legislative program, including continuation of the
graduated income tax, expansion of social security (particularly medical care
under social security), Federal aid to education, etc. under this philosophy
would be characterized as steps toward Communism." Thus, "This view
of the Communist menace renders foreign aid, cultural exchanges, disarmament
negotiations and other international programs as extremely wasteful if not
actually subversive."

The
chilling Senate study concluded by warning of a revolt by senior military
officers such as the one portrayed in
Seven Days in May.
To show the
idea was not farfetched, the report cited "as an example of the ultimate
danger" the recent revolt by army generals in France, largely over
policies in Algeria. "Military officers, French or American, have some common
characteristics arising from their profession," said the report, "and
there are numerous military 'fingers on the trigger' throughout the
world."

Finally,
the committee specifically pointed to General Lemnitzer and called for an
examination of the relationship between him, his Chiefs, and the extreme
right-wing groups. Among the members of the committee most outspoken in calling
for an investigation of Lemnitzer and the Joint Chiefs was Senator Albert Gore,
Sr., of Tennessee (the father of former vice president Al Gore).

It was not
an idle worry. In their 1963 book,
The Far Right,
Donald Janson of the
New
York Times
and CBS reporter Bernard Eismann wrote, "Concern had grown
that a belligerent and free-wheeling military could conceivably become as dangerous
to the stability of the United States as the mixture of rebelliousness and
politics had in nations forced to succumb to juntas or fascism. The agony that
gripped France as a result of military defectors' efforts to reverse government
policy on Algeria was another forceful reminder of the inherent dangers in
allowing political power to build up in the military establishment."

Outwardly,
Lemnitzer remained stiff and correct. But deep inside he was raging at the new
and youthful Kennedy White House. He felt out of place and out of time in a
culture that seemed suddenly to have turned its back on military tradition.
Almost immediately he became, in the clinical sense, paranoid; he began
secretly expressing his worries to other senior officers. A little more than a
month after Kennedy took office, he sent a letter to General Lauris Norstad,
the commander-in-chief of the U.S. European Command, and several other top
generals. Fearful that the administration would learn of his comments, he
noted, "I had considered sending this information to you by electrical
means but in view of its nature, I am sending it by letter for your, Jim
Moore's and [Deputy Commander-in-Chief] Charlie Palmer's EYES ONLY." It
was then delivered "in a sealed envelope for delivery to Gen. Norstad
ONLY."

"You
and Charlie are probably wondering what, if anything, the JCS are [d]oing about
some of the disturbing things that have been happening recently with respect to
your area," Lemnitzer wrote. But what so upset the JCS Chairman was not a
major change in nuclear policy in Europe or a shift in Cold War strategy, but
the fact that White House officials had canceled money earmarked for the
remodeling of an officers' club. "I am sure that this seems as incredible
to you as it does to us," he wrote, "but this is how things are
happening here now." Finally, Lemnitzer complained about what he felt were
deliberate leaks intended to embarrass senior military officials. "Here
again I believe that the fundamental cause is the 'eager beaver' attitude by
many of the new and very young people who have been brought into government to
publicize promptly any item they believe will give the new administration good
press. I don't know how long this situation is going to continue but we seem to
have a new incident every day."

Lemnitzer
had no respect for the civilians he reported to. He believed they interfered
with the proper role of the military. The "civilian hierarchy was crippled
not only by inexperience," he would later say, "but also by arrogance
arising from failure to recognize its own limitations. . . . The problem was
simply that the civilians would not accept military judgments." In
Lemnitzer's view, the country would be far better off if the generals could
take over.

For those
military officers who were sitting on the fence, the Kennedy administration's
botched Bay of Pigs invasion was the last straw. "The Bay of Pigs fiasco
broke the dike," said one report at the time. "President Kennedy was
pilloried by the superpatriots as a 'no-win' chief. . . . The Far Right became
a fount of proposals born of frustration and put forward in the name of anti-Communism.
. . . Active-duty commanders played host to anti-Communist seminars on their
bases and attended or addressed Right-wing meetings elsewhere."

Although no one in Congress could have known it at the time,
Lemnitzer and the Joint Chiefs had quietly slipped over the edge.

According
to secret and long-hidden documents obtained for
Body of Secrets,
the
Joint Chiefs of Staff drew up and approved plans for what may be the most
corrupt plan ever created by the U.S. government. In the name of anticommunism,
they proposed launching a secret and bloody war of terrorism against their own
country in order to trick the American public into supporting an ill-conceived
war they intended to launch against Cuba.

Codenamed
Operation Northwoods, the plan, which had the written approval of the Chairman
and every member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, called for innocent people to be
shot on American streets; for boats carrying refugees fleeing Cuba to be sunk
on the high seas; for a wave of violent terrorism to be launched in Washington,
D.C., Miami, and elsewhere. People would be framed for bombings they did not
commit; planes would be hijacked. Using phony evidence, all of it would be
blamed on Castro, thus giving Lemnitzer and his cabal the excuse, as well as
the public and international backing, they needed to launch their war.

The idea
may actually have originated with President Eisenhower in the last days of his
administration. With the Cold War hotter than ever and the recent U-2 scandal
fresh in the public's memory, the old general wanted to go out with a win. He
wanted desperately to invade Cuba in the weeks leading up to Kennedy's
inauguration; indeed, on January 3 he told Lemnitzer and other aides in his
Cabinet Room that he would move against Castro before the inauguration if only
the Cubans gave him a really good excuse. Then, with time growing short,
Eisenhower floated an idea. If Castro failed to provide that excuse, perhaps,
he said, the United States "could think of manufacturing something that
would be generally acceptable." What he was suggesting was a pretext—a
bombing, an attack, an act of sabotage—carried out secretly against the United
States
by
the United States. Its purpose would be to justify the
launching of a war. It was a dangerous suggestion by a desperate president.

Although
no such war took place, the idea was not lost on General Lemnitzer. But he and
his colleagues were frustrated by Kennedy's failure to authorize their plan,
and angry that Castro had not provided an excuse to invade.

The final
straw may have come during a White House meeting on February 26, 1962.
Concerned that General Lansdale's various covert action plans under Operation
Mongoose were simply becoming more outrageous and going nowhere, Robert Kennedy
told him to drop all anti-Castro efforts. Instead, Lansdale was ordered to
concentrate for the next three months strictly on gathering intelligence about
Cuba. It was a humiliating defeat for Lansdale, a man more accustomed to praise
than to scorn.

As the
Kennedy brothers appeared to suddenly "go soft" on Castro, Lemnitzer
could see his opportunity to invade Cuba quickly slipping away. The attempts to
provoke the Cuban public to revolt seemed dead and Castro, unfortunately,
appeared to have no inclination to launch any attacks against Americans or
their property. Lemnitzer and the other Chiefs knew there was only one option
left that would ensure their war. They would have to trick the American public
and world opinion into hating Cuba so much that they would not only go along,
but would insist that he and his generals launch their war against Castro.
"World opinion, and the United Nations forum," said a secret JCS
document, "should be favorably affected by developing the international
image of the Cuban government as rash and irresponsible, and as an alarming and
unpredictable threat to the peace of the Western Hemisphere."

Operation
Northwoods called for a war in which many patriotic Americans and innocent
Cubans would die senseless deaths—all to satisfy the egos of twisted generals
back in Washington, safe in their taxpayer-financed homes and limousines.

One idea
seriously considered involved the launch of John Glenn, the first American to
orbit the earth. On February 20, 1962, Glenn was to lift off from Cape
Canaveral, Florida, on his historic journey. The flight was to carry the banner
of America's virtues of truth, freedom, and democracy into orbit high over the
planet. But Lemnitzer and his Chiefs had a different idea. They proposed to
Lansdale that, should the rocket explode and kill Glenn, "the objective is
to provide irrevocable proof that ... the fault lies with the Communists et al
Cuba
[sic]."
This would be accomplished, Lemnitzer continued,
"by manufacturing various pieces of evidence which would prove electronic
interference on the part of the Cubans." Thus, as NASA prepared to send
the first American into space, the Joint Chiefs of Staff were preparing to use
John Glenn's possible death as a pretext to launch a war.

Glenn
lifted into history without mishap, leaving Lemnitzer and the Chiefs to begin
devising new plots which they suggested be carried out "within the time
frame of the next few months."

Among the
actions recommended was "a series of well coordinated incidents to take
place in and around" the U.S. Navy base at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. This
included dressing "friendly" Cubans in Cuban military uniforms and
then have them "start riots near the main gate of the base. Others would
pretend to be saboteurs inside the base. Ammunition would be blown up, fires
started, aircraft sabotaged, mortars fired at the base with damage to
installations."

The
suggested operations grew progressively more outrageous. Another called for an
action similar to the infamous incident in February 1898 when an explosion
aboard the battleship
Maine
in Havana harbor killed 266 U.S. sailors.
Although the exact cause of the explosion remained undetermined, it sparked the
Spanish-American War with Cuba. Incited by the deadly blast, more than one
million men volunteered for duty. Lemnitzer and his generals came up with a
similar plan. "We could blow up a U.S. ship in Guantanamo Bay and blame
Cuba," they proposed; "casualty lists in U.S. newspapers would cause
a helpful wave of national indignation."

There
seemed no limit to their fanaticism: "We could develop a Communist Cuban
terror campaign in the Miami area, in other Florida cities and even in
Washington," they wrote. "The terror campaign could be pointed at
Cuban refugees seeking haven in the United States. . . .We could sink a
boatload of Cubans en route to Florida (real or simulated). . . . We could
foster attempts on lives of Cuban refugees in the United States even to the
extent of wounding in instances to be widely publicized."

Bombings
were proposed, false arrests, hijackings:

•  
"Exploding a few plastic bombs in carefully chosen spots, the arrest of
Cuban agents and the release of prepared documents substantiating Cuban
involvement also would be helpful in projecting the idea of an irresponsible
government."

•  
"Advantage can be taken of the sensitivity of the Dominican [Republic] Air
Force to intrusions within their national air space. 'Cuban' B-26 or C-46 type
aircraft could make cane-burning raids at night. Soviet Bloc incendiaries could
be found. This could be coupled with 'Cuban' messages to the Communist
underground in the Dominican Republic and 'Cuban' shipments of arms which would
be found, or intercepted, on the beach. Use of MiG type aircraft by U.S. pilots
could provide additional provocation."