BBC "Correspondent" documentary on Robert Hanssen, June 17, 2001

BBC Documentary on Robert Hanssen

CI CENTRE EXCLUSIVE

17 June 2001

This Sunday evening, the BBC’s “The Correspondent” program aired an hour-long documentary about Robert Hanssen called “The Near Perfect Spy.” Unfortunately, it is not known when or even if this documentary will ever air in the United States. The producers have promised to let CI Centre know if it will air in America and we’ll pass this along to you.

The show was hosted and interviews were conducted by Tom Mangold. As way of background, Mangold is the author of the highly recommended book, “The Cold Warrior.” In this book, he conducted over 300 interviews, including CIA officers, who tell the story James Angleton and his devastating impact on counterintelligence at the CIA and other intelligence services. Any serious student or practitioner of counterintelligence must know this story told in Mangold’s “Cold Warrior” and David Wise’s “Molehunt.”

In “The Near Perfect Spy” video documentary, Mangold interviewed various people including CI Centre Professor David Major, retired FBI senior official Harry “Skip” Brandon, Priscilla Galey, and Dr. Alen Salerian, the former FBI psychiatrist who was hired by Hanssen’s defense team to psychologically evaluate Hanssen. Salerian had worked as a consultant to the FBI for five years and helped develop and was medical director of the Bureau's Mobile Psychiatric Emergency Response Team. Back in March of this year, Salerian wrote an op-ed for the Washington Post subtitled “The FBI Should Monitor Its Agents' Mental Health,” (see below). His comments in the BBC video are revealing and present new information we haven’t heard yet in this case. Dr. Salerian said that he spent 40 hours talking to Hanssen in prison and claims that Hanssen wanted him to be his spokesman to let people understand what had happened.

“[Hanssen’s] reasons for spying had very little to do with spying and much more to do with his emotional pain, with emotional wounds and all the demons in his own mind that he’s been fighting with for many, many years,” said Dr. Salerian.

Mangold asked him if this was a spy story.

“It’s not a spy story. If, when, we know all the facts, people will understand that it’s not a spy story,” Salerian replied.

The video goes on with background on the Hanssen case including how he used floppy disks to send the KGB secret messages, the dead drop places he used, the information he had access to including a MASINT document that revealed US satellite technology, the fact that the British secrets Hanssen had access to should be considered “totally compromised,” and the passage of the “jewel in the crown” of US intelligence—the Continuity of Government plans. CI Centre Professor David Major said that spying “is not a game, it’s serious business,” and goes on to say that when he worked at the White House, he saw how powerful intelligence was in making decisions.

Priscilla Galey was interviewed and said that Hanssen wanted her to be closer to God and that she would be lost in hell if she didn’t stop sinning. He told her that her life could be a lot better. Hanssen wanted her to go to a priest and confess because that would help if she confessed, he told her. They went to the National Gallery of Art in Washington together where he liked to look at the religious paintings. According to Hanssen, everyone was either a saint or sinner, she said.

Mangold asked her if religion was an obsession with Hanssen.

“Yes, it was very much a part of his life. He made much more time for religion than most people would. He pressed his beliefs and his thoughts and his encouragements in a religious spirit a lot more than the normal person,” Galey replied.

Mangold next talked to author James Bamford who was a friend and contact of Hanssen’s. Bamford said that Hanssen never let an opportunity go by without injecting religion into a lot of their conversations. Hanssen was adamant that they talk about religion and he was always trying to get Bamford to go back to church as well as join the Catholic order Opus Dei.

What made Hanssen begin spying in 1979 and/or again in 1985? Dr. Salerian said that Hanssen is “not mad but he thinks he’s going mad because of the content of his thoughts. Under the circumstances, I think he snaps. And the snapping is in the form of spying.” Salerian said Hanssen has not denied the charges against him.

The documentary states that since childhood, according to sources, Hanssen had an “obsessive preoccupation with aspects of pornography.” His uncontrollable and compulsive desires have created a backlash of guilt which, according to Salerian, tormented Hanssen and help explain his irrational behavior as a spy.

“[Hanssen] has a medical condition, and part of this medical condition is that he is at times bombarded with certain unpleasant thoughts. And they torment him. They are his demons. He lives with them. He’s been living with them for a long time. And he’s been troubled by them,” said Salerian.

He goes on to say that, “[Hanssen] was trying to get away from his demons. And as he was trying to get away from his demons, he was fighting or losing a horrible battle and feeling horrible about himself. The way he acted out, through spying, was his unwise and perhaps impulsive escape.”

Mangold said in other words, Hanssen was masking one torment with another. Mangold asked Salerian if this could just be a psychological excuse a traitor was giving and wondered if Hanssen was conning Salerian.

“I honestly don’t think so,” Salerian replied. Salerian admitted to this possibility and that said that he can be gullible, but he went on to say, “I’m talking from my gut—two human beings spending 40 hours together in a small prison cell talking, crying and sharing. Sharing incredible things that he had not shared with anybody and that he didn’t have to share with me. I walk away believing that he is not BS’ing me, that he’s giving me a real line. He’s really pouring his heart out.”

Mangold said that “many people have suffered physical and emotional abuse from their parents” but that these people don’t turn out to be spies. (This was the only allusion in the video to possible abuse by Hanssen’s father or mother when Hanssen was younger thus the “demons Hanssen possessed since childhood.” Hanssen’s father, now dead, was a Chicago police officer who worked in the Red Squad collecting information about Chicago area communists and sympathizers. His mother still lives in Florida.) Mangold asks that doesn’t Hanssen’s spying suggest instead a weakness of character?

Salerian replies, “Do we have the civilization today to look at the bigger picture as well, and not just look at the end result and say that, hey, this guy is just dirt—a scumbag who betrayed his country? Should we also look at the bigger picture? Should we look at the picture where a man has gone to his priest for 20 years and told his priest at least once a month that ‘I am hurting; there are demons’ and gotten lousy, horrendous, horrendous advice. I would love to kick that priest. The priest who gave him that advice—I’m mad at him as a doctor because they burned this guy.”

Mangold asked if Hanssen was given absolution.

“Yes, and the lousy advice he would get from his priest was: pray more, pray more, pray more,” Salerian said.

Towards the end of Hanssen’s spying, he knew something was going on but didn’t get out when all the warning bells said to leave.

“He knew that the end had come and that it was a matter of moments, days or weeks when he would be arrested. He wanted to rush this, accelerate this and bring it to a closure. He thought if he really did something provocative, it would give them the rope to hang him with. This basically was what he was doing—giving the Bureau the rope so they could hang him. Then his end would come,” Salerian stated.

If Hanssen couldn’t stop himself from spying, he would allow the FBI to bring it to an end, the documentary said.

James Bamford said when he first heard the news that Hanssen was arrested, Hanssen’s spying didn’t make any sense. “It never made any sense from the beginning and it makes even less sense the more I hear about the case.”

Skip Brandon said that Hanssen had access to virtually everything, “I think we will find that the damage caused by Robert Hanssen is disastrous of the very, very highest magnitude.”

Hanssen’s wife has forgiven him and he sees her and a priest regularly, Mangold said.

Salerian adds, “I think that he’s done some horrible, horrible things but he’s not evil. And he’s not an angel either. He’s a tormented man; a tormented soul demonized and overwhelmed by demons and his behavior affected because of them.”

At the end of the documentary, CI Centre Professor David Major said someday he wants to look at Bob Hanssen and ask him, “how could you do that to me; how could you do that to all of us who had this opportunity in life to make a difference? Because that’s what you do when you have the opportunity to do intelligence and counterintelligence. It is a gift to have that commitment in your life because few of us can. How could you take all of our work, all of our commitment, all of our effort and do it for such a selfish act?”

For more information about the BBC “Correspondent” documentary, see: The Near-Perfect Spy Tom Mangold delves into the complex personality of Soviet agent Robert Hanssen, who hated Communism but served it for 15 years, damaging British and US national security. Widescreen. Sunday, 17 Jun, 18:15 - 19:00 on BBC Two.

Diagnosis Missing
The FBI Should Monitor Its Agents' Mental Health

By Alen Salerian
Sunday, March 11, 2001; Page B01, Washington Post

In the mid-1990s, the FBI sent me to a Southern city to do a psychological evaluation of one of its undercover agents. The reason: The agent was having an affair with a member of the criminal organization he was investigating.

I spent about a week there, talking with the agent in various restaurants and bars, my back always to the entrance so he could keep an eye on who came through the door. During our meetings, the agent seemed quite calm, unfazed by either his dangerous assignment or the firestorm his behavior was causing at headquarters.

He was remarkably candid about what motivated his reckless sexual conduct: anger. Behind his cool exterior he was seething, because he believed the exceptional caliber of his undercover work was not fully appreciated by his superiors. And this unnecessarily risky escapade was his way of punishing the uncaring agency.

Luckily, our work had a successful ending. The agent was gradually extricated from the assignment without arousing suspicion, and he soon retired from the bureau. His final words to me were: "I know I crossed the line and was going to do more. Thank God you came along."

I have been thinking of that agent and what "more" he might have done since the headlines first appeared about Robert Hanssen, the FBI agent accused of betraying his country beginning in 1985. Were there signals that a professional evaluation would have picked up? Could a psychiatrist have identified Hanssen as a possible threat years before a double agent fingered him as a spy?

Very likely, the signals were there. But very likely they wouldn't have been picked up -- because the FBI doesn't require regular psychological evaluations of its agents. This is a painfully obvious lack in bureau security. When personnel are hired, they go thorough physical and psychological screenings. After that, however, only the physical exams are routine, even though these employees are subject to stresses and pressures far beyond what most people experience. The FBI keeps regular tabs on its agents' weight and blood pressure -- but not their emotional stability.

It's not that the bureau doesn't believe in the usefulness of psychology -- consider, for example, its use of extensive profiling to understand and identify serial criminals. And in crises involving its agents, it often relies on the tools of modern psychiatry. From 1992 to 1997, in fact, I worked regularly with the FBI; I helped develop and was medical director of the bureau's Mobile Psychiatric Emergency Response Team. I trained many counselors and went out on assignments myself, working with agents everywhere from U.S. embassy compounds abroad to Waco, Tex. Not all the agents I have worked with were undercover, but I have evaluated dozens of men and women with secret missions and double lives.

So, while I don't know Hanssen or pretend to understand his particular case, I understand a great deal about undercover agents. And I believe that regular evaluation of all agents might help expose threats and prevent security disasters.

Let me be clear about something: The overwhelming majority of the bureau personnel I have met are tough, intelligent and stable, with an unswerving dedication to their work. And the bureau itself is, in my view, a singularly well-managed and effective organization. My only concern here is identifying the rare potential problem.

Most secret agents I have met have two signature traits: fearlessness and a high tolerance for anxiety. Whether because of biological factors, such as an elevated level of the mood-enhancing neurochemical serotonin, or because of the influences of their early lives, these people seem to be extreme risk takers who can tolerate and manage worry, tension and stress with natural ease. Not surprisingly, their steely nerves are often perceived by others as aloofness or arrogance.

These characteristics, combined with stamina and the sharp intellect of a skilled chess player, are requirements for a profession distinguished by calculated risk taking in the face of constant danger. "It's not about money or anything else," the agent who "crossed the line" in that Southern city said. "It's about the rush I get when I'm outsmarting them, having a quiet dinner with the enemy in his own home and slowly building the fire to burn him."

"What about fear?" I asked.

He smiled. "My only fear is not building the perfect fire."

Though unshakable on assignment, this agent nevertheless displayed a brittle self-esteem easily shattered by his superior's disapproval or rejection. In this way, too, he was similar to many undercover agents I have known. They have an intense narcissism -- the flip side of their confidence. They need constant positive input, and they can only get it from two sources. The first is self-esteem, which is provided by constant mastery of their roles; winning is very important. The second is feedback from their superiors, a need that makes them very vulnerable to real or perceived slights. Not merely criticism but the simple absence of praise can enrage them.

When most of us get angry at the people or system we work for, we vent our frustrations by talking with family or friends. If we get really angry, we might retaliate in straightforward fashion by turning against the boss or organization we perceive as abusive.

Spies, however, can't vent about their work to their loved ones, because their profession demands absolute secrecy. Their necessarily lonely lives offer none of the safety valves that help the average disgruntled employee cope with stress.

Also, if they decide to take revenge, these people bring extraordinary knowledge, skill, intelligence and -- perhaps most important -- daring to their plans.

In 1996, the nation's interest was caught by the case of Eugene Bennett, the former FBI agent who kidnapped his pastor in Northern Virginia. Bennett was angry with his estranged wife, who was intimately involved with crime novelist Patricia Cornwell. But his problems had been building long before he confronted his wife in the church where he had tied the pastor to a chair along with a phony bomb.

I know because, a few years earlier, Bennett had come to me for psychological counseling. It was a rare occurrence for an FBI employee to seek me out on his own, but Bennett clearly knew he was in trouble. Like any good spy, he had done his homework -- checked out my background and security clearance, concluded that he could confide in me. Also true to form, he maintained outward control: When he called me, his voice was a monotone, his words cryptic. And during our meetings, his face would remain expressionless.

We met eight or nine times over a period of about six months. One day, something apparently spooked him, and he suddenly vanished into silence and never spoke with me again.

For ethical reasons, I cannot reveal what he told me during those meetings, or how I responded. But because his bizarre case was eventually part of the public record -- he spent 12 months in federal prison on a fraud charge even before his conviction on charges including attempted murder and abduction -- I can say he was a dangerously volatile character. By the time Bennett called me for help, he was already on administrative leave, in the midst of a publicly messy divorce and fraud investigation. The question is, could some kind of screening have spotted his problems while he was still working undercover in highly sensitive assignments?

It would be wrong to make my argument too simplistic -- that certain agents get angry, have no outlet for their rage, and turn to violence and betrayal. These are complex people with paradoxical personalities. An inflated yet fragile ego is a highly combustible thing.

But that is exactly the challenge to the FBI: how to predict who is approaching meltdown and how to prevent that final explosion -- or the hidden revenge of secret betrayal. There has been much discussion of lie detector tests, and I believe that regardless of their imperfections, such tests could help identify security risks. But they should be part of a broader, regular psychiatric evaluation.

I have been called to work with the bureau many times after an agent's mental health was obviously in question. I remember a female agent who was beginning to get reckless and endanger her assignment. She turned out to be the only woman in a highly chauvinistic unit, repressing anger at superiors who merely urged her to "tough out" the harassment. And there was the counterterrorism expert based at a U.S. embassy in the Mediterranean, whose hidden frustrations only came to light when he became publicly abusive toward his wife and child.

Both cases had happy endings: The female agent was removed from the hostile environment and placed successfully in another assignment; the counterterrorism expert received extensive counseling and managed to keep his job. I was pleased and fortunate to be able to help an agency for which I have immense respect.

My disappointment, though, is that too often my fellow counselors and I are called in only after events seem to be getting out of control and there is a possibility of real damage. This reactive response is not enough. As the bureau looks into what might have made Robert Hanssen "turn" in 1985, it should seriously consider a systematic, proactive program to monitor all its agents' psychological well-being. Both the agents and the country deserve it.

Alen Salerian is medical director of the Washington Psychiatric Center.