February 19, 2002

That some well-known archaeologists, architects-cum-town planners, academics, authors, accountants, bankers, film producers, fashion designers, historians, irrigation experts, newspapermen, novelists, travellers, and writers of all descriptions have, at some stage in their careers, been ‘talent spotted’ by the ‘headhunting’ secret services of their own or other countries, is an open secret. A few more celebrated of them have, subsequently, recounted and published their experiences and operations in the weird world of intelligence.

Some have kept their secrets to themselves. Some were drafted for lifetime employment. One Allen Dulles was a teacher of English in Ewing Christian College, an intermediate educational institution, in Allahabad (India), in the first quarter of the last century. After a year, he left the teaching job, went back to the States, and climbing up the ladder of his profession, headed the CIA.

All of these persons ‘had particular qualification for the secret service’. Most of them were ‘acquainted with several European languages’, and their own ‘profession was excellent cover’. As archaeologists, historians, novelists, newspapermen, etc., they could move, without any suspicion, from one country to another, on the plea of performing their professional duties.

Somerset Maugham was one such writer, who was drafted into M15 (British Security Service), immediately after the start of the First World War. As an author, he could move around the world without attracting attention.

After completing two tours of duty for M15 in Switzerland and on the Swiss-French border, from 1914 to 1917, Maugham was selected, by M16 (British Secret Intelligence Service), to carry out a mission in 1917 in Russia.

Maugham has dramatically fictionalized in his incomparable style of story-telling his secret missions in sixteen short stories, published in a book, entitled Ashenden (1928).

As I wrote in an earlier piece, “Two words about one Parsi” (Dawn, December 30, 2001), Maugham was enlisted by M15 and dispatched to Switzerland, in 1914, to report, among other assignments, on Indian revolutionaries. He went there under the guise of completinga play. His main quarry was Virendranath Chattopadhyaya, who had moved to Switzerland, from where he could easily go to Germany to consort with other revolutionaries, functioning from Berlin. Chattopadhyaya, after establishing an Indian Revolutionary Committee, in Berlin, came over to Switzerland to start its agencies in Geneva and Zurich. He worked through his three girl-friends: a Swiss, Meta Brunner; a German, Anna Brandt; and an English, Hilda Howsin. All the three girls were detained for the duration of the war.

A daring plan was worked out by M15 to lure Chattopadhaya, into France, through Anna Brandt, who was brought to a small French town on the frontier, from where she was to write letters urging him to come over to her in France. It was a ploy to catch Chattopadhyaya. If he was captured, Anna was to be set at liberty. Maugham was to work on Anna; and he forced her to write to Chattopadhyaya. Her letters were to be carried by another agent, Gullick, who was also trusted by Chattopadhyaya. The plan was partially successful, as the Indian came as near the border as possible, but he did not cross it.

In Maugham’s short story “Giulia Lazzari”, the character, Chandra Lal is clearly Chattopadhyaya; and the writer tells how Ashenden (Maugham) tried to get Chandra Lal, a fictitious Indian revolutionary, cross the border from Switzerland to France through imploring letters from Giulia Lazzari (Anna Brandt). Ashenden told Lazzari, “I want you to write a letter to your lover telling him that owing to some irregularity in your passport the Swiss authorities would not let you cross the frontier, so you have to come here, where it was very nice and quiet, so quiet that one can hardly realize there is war, and you propose that Chandra should join you.”

About Chandra’s reply to Lazzari, Maugham writes, “The letter, in the Indian’s flowery, stilted English, expressed his bitter disappointment. He told her how intensely he had looked forward to seeing her and implored her to do anything in the world to smooth the difficulties that prevented her from crossing the frontier. He said that it was impossible for him to come, impossible; there was a price on his head, and it would be madness for him to think of risking it.”

Chattopadhyaya never crossed the border; the Swiss plan collapsed; and it was considered a waste of money. But, in the story, Chandra decided to go over to France, and at the checkpost, he suspected that he had fallen into a trap. He took poison and died Lazzari told Ashenden, “He’s escaped you after all — he said that the English should never take him alive.”

Another important mission, for which Maugham was selected, in 1917 (this time by M16), was to extend financial help to the Kerensky provisional government, so that Russia was kept in the war against Germany, and secondly, not to allow Lenin’s underground military revolutionary committee to seize power.

In these three short stories, “A chance acquaintance,” “Love and Russian literature”, and “Mr Harrington’s washing”, Maugham has given a fictionalized account of his exploits in Petrograd, when the government under weak Kerensky was tottering and he was holding power because no one else had the courage to seize it. In the story, “Mr Harrington’s washing”, Maugham writes, “Kerensky, the head of the provisional government, was devoured by vanity — he made speeches. He made endless speeches — the food shortage grew more serious — Kerensky made speeches — the Bolsheviks were active. Lenin was hiding — Kerensky knew where he was, but dare not arrest him. He made speeches.”

About the plan to save Russia from the Bolshevik revolution, Maugham writes in the same story, “He (Ashenden) had at length devised a plan of campaign — code a telegram in which he put his scheme before the persons who had sent him to Petrograd. It was accepted — was promised all the money he needed. Ashenden knew he could do nothing unless the provisional government remained in power for another three months — Kerensky ran hither and thither like a frightened hen — Then the blow fell. On the night of November 7, 1917, the Bolsheviks rose— How far do the stories reflect the facts? Five days before the US joined the War, the Russian Czar handed over power, on March 16, 1917, to a provisional government, headed by Prince Lvov. Three months later, Kerensky formed a new Socialist regime. Though Kerensky was committed to war against Germany, he could not hold the balance between the Bolsheviks and other Socialist revolutionaries. The British premier, Lloyd George, wanted to help and financially support the Kerensky government. The funds were to be arranged by the Washington DC office of M16, and there was on hand an experienced M15 agent, Maugham, in New York, to undertake the mission.

In June 1917, Maugham carried the secret cash to Petrograd, and made a long journey from New York to San Francisco, across the Pacific to Yokohama, then to Vladivostok, and by Trans-Siberian railway to Petrograd. Maugham was provided with a complicated code, which identified Lenin as ‘Davis’, Kerensky as ‘Lane’, Trotsky as ‘Cole’, and Maugham was to be ‘Somerville’, and the British government had the code name, ‘Eyre and Co’.

Regularly, Maugham reported to his controller in Washington — “Government change their mind daily about moving to Moscow”, “Kerensky is losing popularity and it is doubtful if he can last”; “— reports of secret understanding for Sweden and Finland to join Germany on capture of Petrograd”, etc.

In early October, 1917, Kerensky summoned Maugham and asked him to carry his personal message to Lloyd George — his position was precarious; substantial material support was urgently required; and the British ambassador was to be withdrawn. Maugham left for London via Oslo. He met Lloyd George, who did not agree to Kerensky’s demands, and asked Maugham to return to Russia. Before Maugham could plan his return journey, Kerensky’s government fell on November 7-8, 1917.

That was the end of Maugham’s Russian adventure. He wrote, “In 1917, I went to Russia. I was sent to prevent the Bolshevik Revolution, and to keep Russia in the war — my efforts did not meet with success.”

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