Chapter 1

Blunt: the Gentleman Spy

He was a gentleman through and through. Dark suit with thin blue stripes, red tie, and a blue shirt on a thin, lanky and slightly arched body. His long, bony face had a melancholy expression, which flashed a clear but cold look. His wavy hair, just a little long, was impeccably parted on the left-hand side. This gentleman was a regular at Buckingham Palace, a Knight of the Realm and also a Commander in the order of the Légion d’honneur. Yet Sir Anthony Blunt was also a spy. He was one of the ‘Cambridge Five’; five traitors taken from the upper echelons of English society, who during World War Two and the following years, rendered immense services to the Soviets.

Mr X has already discussed this matter by drawing particular attention to the most flamboyant of them, Kim Philby,¹ a character who seems to have come straight out of a John Le Carré novel. However, he has remained very discreet about Anthony Blunt, a great art historian and member of the Queen’s counsel, whose role was only made public at the end of the 1970s. For a long time the British counterintelligence service knew the full truth about Sir Anthony, who were he alive today, would be over 100-years old. Yet no accusations were made against him. This is not the only mystery in an affair where there are still secrets yet to be revealed. It is a dossier that has all the ingredients of a very ‘British’ scandal, mixing sex, politics and betrayal.

A recent and accurate biography of Anthony Blunt evokes the double life of this gentleman spy, who effectively had the characteristics of a chameleon. On the one hand, he presented himself as the perfect product of British High Society: an aesthete who had gone to the most prestigious schools in the kingdom, an art historian whose works were an authority and who personally watched over the collections of the royal family. Yet on the other hand, he was an ambivalent character who drank too much and in a time of very strict morals, hid as much of his homosexuality as he could.

The last dark side of his character was his life as a spy. A spy who, let us say from the outset, was betrayed, at least initially, by idealism. The Soviets rarely paid for his services, and if they did it was only in small amounts. As a homosexual, Blunt could also have been subjected to blackmail. However, it does not appear that his successive contract officers profited from this, even though as KGB agents, they did not hesitate to use all manners of sexual exploitation to recruit their spies. Yet this was not necessary in Blunt’s case; his commitment was sincere.

This affair hides a story within a story. While there is no doubt of Blunt’s betrayal, doesn’t the fact that it was hidden for so long mean that it was also hiding something else? And why did Margaret Thatcher believe she was right to reveal the truth so soon after coming to power?

Anthony Blunt was the third son of a modest vicar. Nevertheless, he was distantly related to the royal family through his mother, who was second cousin to the future Elizabeth II’s father [George VI]. Despite the relative poverty of his parents, he began his studies at a renowned public school [Marlborough College], where discipline was ruthless and where living conditions were very harsh. The young Anthony swept up all the top honours and gained a scholarship to the famous Trinity College at Cambridge. which would be crucible for the training of the future ‘Cambridge Five’. After studying modern languages, this talented young man then joined the so-called ‘Bloomsbury Group’, a circle of artists and intellectuals, whose members included Virginia Woolf. The group brought together intellectuals who wanted to break away from the social norms of the time, not only in artistic areas, but also religious, social and sexual matters as well.

At Cambridge, Blunt felt particularly comfortable in the Bloomsbury Group. Later, he was also admitted to another influential circle, the ‘Apostles’, a clandestine discussion group, which at the time was chaired by the future economist, John Maynard Keynes. For Blunt, it was about absolute social and intellectual recognition. What is more, the Apostles counted many other homosexuals among their members, such as the writer, John Foster.

In the very narrow world of Cambridge, Blunt, a brilliant conversationalist, was already considered an important figure, especially now he had found his true calling: art, or rather the research and critiquing of it. He had spent part of his childhood in Paris after his father was assigned as the vicar to the British Embassy’s chapel. He became infatuated with the work of the French painter, Nicolas Poussin,² who is unjustly underestimated and even ignored in modern times. The young critic decided to bring him out of the shadows and gradually became the international expert on the painter’s works. At the beginning of the 1930s he wrote a brilliant thesis on the works of Poussin, which allowed him to make his debut as a speaker at the Courtauld Institute of Art, the first institute of its kind to be created in Britain. At the same time, he also wrote reviews for specialist journals.

Ann-Marie Lecoq³

The key lesson is still relevant and comes from the personality of the teacher. An extremely acute sensitivity, a capacity to show the emotion of the masterpiece that can be felt in the writing: rare ingredients in synthetic works. The success is largely down to the staff, which could be defined as that of rational passion. Blunt constantly alternates the historical discourse and the detailed descriptions of the works that count and those he particularly likes. This series of analysis teaches us to see such things as Lescot’s Louvre, Claude Lorraine’s landscapes or Puget’s Milo of Croton. Finally, it is rare to find a great art historian who is equally sensitive to painting, architecture and sculpture. In this latter subject in particular, we must be grateful that he never failed to mention the location of the work, how it was seen from a distance, up close and from every angle.

In the 1930s and due to the influence of certain prominent professors, the Cambridge academic certainly leant to the left. Some students had become committed Marxists and the rise of totalitarianism in Italy and Spain, followed by the Spanish Civil War definitely added to this. Some students even signed up to the British Communist Party, in particular, a man who was to play a major role in the life of Anthony Blunt: Guy Burgess.⁴

Unlike his great friend Blunt, Burgess did not hide his homosexual preferences and was often rather provocative. What is more, he possessed a very exuberant personality and was a dazzling conversationalist. His one serious flaw was that he drank too much and often indulged in confidences when drunk; hardly prudent for a future spy. Indeed, it is rather miraculous that he was not unmasked earlier.

The next question is whether or not Blunt and Burgess had an affair? Probably. However, if they did, then it was very short and mainly because Burgess was only interested in passing fancies. Blunt was too reserved for Burgess and often acted as his ‘recruiting sergeant’. What is important is that the two men shared a deep friendship that would never fade, despite their differences.

A third year student called James Klugmann exerted a decisive political influence over Blunt and his classmates. Klugmann was a communist and had worked hard to spread Marxist ideology at Cambridge. Undeniably, this prestigious university was a fertile ground for the recruitment of future influential agents. The majority of them came from the upper classes, who upon leaving university would go on to hold important posts in society and it did not take long for Soviet agencies to realise the benefits of this. It should be noted that before the great Stalinist purges, the NKVD and Comintern⁵ had remarkable agents at their disposal: cultivated intellectuals, members of the European intelligentsia, including many multi-lingual Jews - many sincere activists who would later be decimated by Stalin.

The man who would become the main recruiter at Cambridge was Arnold Deutsch. A brilliant man, he spoke several languages and had obtained his PhD in Vienna. At first he worked as a courier for Comintern then as a NKVD agent, under the codename ‘Otto’, and first recruited Kim Philby while he was in Vienna. By this time Philby was already politically active, even participating in street-fighting against the Austrian Nazis. After the defeat of the socialist workers militia (1934), Philby, and ‘Otto’, retreated to Britain, but more particularly, to Cambridge. At Trinity College, Philby, under Deutsch’s authority, began to gather his first recruitments, including Donald Maclean and Guy Burgess. In order not to arouse suspicion, the young men were told to break all ties with the Communist Party. Philby even worked for a conservative newspaper, covering the Spanish Civil War from the Franco side.

When Philby, Burgess and Maclean left Cambridge, ‘Otto’ approached Blunt. Although he clearly espoused the ideas of the Party, Blunt was careful not to engage too frankly, either wishing to give the impression of a whimsical artist, or showing a desire for independence. Whatever the case, when Deutsch/Otto approached him, he did not run away. Of course, the NKVD agent did not immediately ask him to work directly for the Soviets, but rather to work for peace and against fascism. Blunt was persuaded relatively easily. As an intellectual who was already leading a double life by hiding his homosexuality, he was clearly fascinated by this other life being offered to him. He was then formally recruited by the NKVD and himself enlisted three other students, including John Cairncross, the so-called ‘fifth-man’.

Miranda Carter⁶

Why did Burgess go after Blunt, who was not an obvious target? He was not a committed communist, was not planning on working for the BBC or the Foreign Office and had no contacts who would be of particular interest to the NKVD. Yet there was a certain logic to his recruitment. Deutsch was looking for someone who could recruit the left-leaning second year students at Cambridge, after the departure of Burgess, Philby and Maclean. He needed a ‘head-hunter’, and Blunt would do the job. As a teacher, he already had a reputation of bringing bright students over ‘to the left’. As John Hilton had already observed, Anthony had a talent of being ‘the nucleus surrounded by a cloud of electrons’. He was not associated too closely with the cause, but was sensitive to the ideas of the left. Burgess also had enough intuition to realise that Blunt would make a very good spy and was well-adapted to the principles of leading a double life, compartmentalising his daily life and being also of a shy disposition. He repressed his feelings and was wary of emotional intimacy. A part of him always needed to keep secrets. Ultimately, Blunt was happy to play this game, which consisted of living several separate lives.

In 1937, Blunt terminated his collaboration with the NKVD, although this break was beyond his control. In Moscow, Stalin, who appeared to be hell bent on a killing spree, continued his purges within the Communist Party, the Red Army and in particular, the secret services. The ‘Little Father’ of the people had no sympathy for cosmopolitan intellectuals who populated the underground networks, especially as many of them were often Jews. Stalin essentially accused them of being international communists, when it was he himself who was in the process of prioritising socialism in one country, in this case, the USSR. Hardcore Bolsheviks were also among the ranks of the Secret Service and Comintern, another reason that the Kremlin leader conducted these unprecedented purges. In so doing, he disrupted the intelligence networks. The NKVD no longer had a contact in London for example, and all those who had been recruited by Deutsch were left to fend for themselves without a leader.

Blunt now devoted himself entirely to his work and his career. He left Cambridge, increased his journalistic activities and became a professor at the Cortauld Institute, where he would later become the deputy Director.

He resumed his relationship with the Soviets in 1939 or 1940. At the outbreak of the Second World War, Moscow once more had a man in London, Anatoly Gorsky. His presence was all the more important as the ‘Cambridge Five’ were now providing information for Soviet intelligence. Despite his eccentricities, Burgess had managed to be hired at the Foreign Office and worked in a department that dealt with sabotage and psychological warfare, while Maclean had become a diplomat. Philby also worked for the intelligence services and was particularly involved in counterintelligence at MI6. Finally, Cairncross worked for a minister who presided over a number of secret committees. As for Blunt, he was unexpectedly recruited by MI5, to work in counterintelligence-espionage. He was assigned to Service B, which as well as being top-secret, also held the most crucial information.

How was he recruited? It was his Cambridge friends who nominated him, those close to him who knew of his affinity to communism and who were well aware of his sexual orientation, even though officers at MI5 were reputedly rather homophobic. And why bring an art teacher into the intelligence services? It seems obvious that Blunt did not arrive there by chance and that his recruitment hid some other ulterior motive.

In any case, Moscow and the NKVD welcomed such a windfall. Their Cambridge protégés were now formidably well-positioned and able to provide them with firsthand information. However, those high up in the NKVD were suspicious as a result of the extraordinary harvest collected by the Cambridge spies. The Stalinist paranoia was setting in and they began to wonder if they were being infiltrated by the British intelligence services. Thus for a time, the information provided by the Cambridge moles was not exploited to the extent that it should have been. This was not the first time that the Russians had neglected to take vital information into account. The same had happened when Richard Sorge, an agent stationed in Tokyo, had warned the Kremlin in vain that the Nazis were going to invade the USSR.

Throughout the war Blunt sent vast amounts of information to Moscow. He was certainly in a very strategic position, dealing with the surveillance of foreign diplomatic services, some of which had been infiltrated by the Nazis. It was then his role to take action against them. He also knew about Ultra telegrams, which were German telegrams encoded by the famous Enigma machine. Thanks to Blunt, the Soviets learned that the British had cracked the German code. This information was important as even allies kept secrets from each other.

However, to give Blunt credit, he did believe that he was going completely against his country. He considered that by sharing information with an ally during a war, he was not acting as a traitor. Yet once that war ended, the Cold War would begin and after the Normandy invasion, Blunt told his superior that he no longer wished to work for the Soviets. But how would this happen? When you enter into the intelligence services you cannot simply just leave. Blunt had a radical answer: make sure you no longer had any information to supply!

He gradually withdrew from MI5 and wanted to renew his beloved study of art. While still working part-time for the British services, he returned to the Courtauld Institute. In April 1945 he was appointed curator of the Royal Collection; a position he held until 1972. A few months later, Blunt finally left the British Secret Service. He was no longer of any value to Moscow, as his new position meant that he could not provide any worthwhile information. However, he had not broken free entirely, and on occasion performed small services for his former masters. He sometimes worked as a courier for Burgess, who was now working for the Foreign Office at the Ministry for Foreign Affairs. Blunt acted as an intermediary between his friend and his Soviet case officer. Burgess was working as a personal assistant, which allowed him access to very sensitive information and they were certainly not lacking for work after the war. Furthermore, Blunt’s last role as a spy was to help his Cambridge friends avoid being discovered or arrested.

The heat was definitely starting to intensify under the feet of the Cambridge spies. By 1948 British counterintelligence-espionage units were convinced that moles were present. It was revealed that highly-classified information had been leaked from the Foreign Office. Yet surprising as it may seem, it was three years before any action was taken. Was this once more the action of a deus ex machina?

In spring 1951, an American cryptographer finally made a breakthrough and managed to decipher the Venona telegrams.⁷ The name of a mole was revealed; Homer, and the details of his diplomatic activities helped to identify who it was. It was a pseudonym for Donald Maclean, the head of the American section at the Foreign Office, who had achieved his position despite the numerous scandals that had marred his career. Like the other Cambridge moles and spies, Maclean took to heavy drinking as a result of the stress he was subjected to. One of the first to be informed of Maclean’s identification was Kim Philby. After nearly being appointed as head of MI6, he now had the very important role of being responsible for liaising intelligence between the British and the CIA. Maclean was not arrested immediately as the Americans wanted at all costs to preserve the knowledge that they had decoded the Venona messages, so that they could unmask other moles. In particular, they were looking for what were called the ‘atomic spies’; those who had given the A-bomb to the Soviets. Philby warned Maclean, via his friend Burgess, that he needed to prepare to flee to the USSR.

He was accompanied by Burgess, who was also feeling threatened. However, and this is the key element in this story, Blunt performed a great favour for his two friends. After their departure, it was he who checked that they had not left anything incriminating behind and their perfectly organised flight could not fail to cause a scandal in Britain. The secret services were put on the spot and in response to their humiliation, tried to take their revenge by unmasking moles at any price. Anthony Blunt was naturally among the first suspects due to the special relationship he had with Burgess. His past as a crypto-communist was criticised, even though no one had cared about that when he was working for the secret services.

Blunt was questioned many times throughout the 1950s and early 1960s. Apparently, he never cracked, especially as the investigators were forced to tread carefully with him. Blunt was now an art historian whose reputation was growing not just in Britain, but all over the world. He had even just received a knighthood for services to the Crown.

However, it is true that the noose was tightening. Philby, who had been denounced by J. Edgar Hoover, the Head of the FBI, was about to be unmasked. He was publically cleared by Prime Minister Harold MacMillan and eventually disappeared to the USSR in 1963. Blunt’s worst enemy was the Welsh writer and journalist, Goronwy Rees, who posed a permanent threat. An intimate friend of Burgess, Rees had long been jealous of Blunt and after Burgess had drunkenly confided in him, he now knew that Blunt had worked for the Soviets. Rees had already published an article on the subject in 1956, which although it didn’t name Blunt directly, made it clear enough of whom he was speaking.

It was not until 1964 that Blunt was finally unmasked. Counterintelligence teams interrogated an American called Michael Straight, who denounced Blunt after revealing that he had been recruited by him while studying at Cambridge. Yet the gentleman spy refused to confess and as a result was offered a very curious deal: if he talked and told them all he knew, he would be offered full judicial immunity. Blunt accepted and revealed the truth about his past activities and club of Cambridge spies. The same deal was offered to the ‘fifth man’, John Cairncross, who also accepted and would end his days living peacefully in the south of France.

But what of Blunt’s deal? He had had no contact with the Soviets for nearly fifteen years. What role would his confession serve if he had severed all ties with the world of intelligence? In this instance, everything was hushed up.

The explanation that immediately comes to mind is that the secret services, already stung by a series of scandals, wanted to avoid being stigmatised again. Another explanation is that they wanted to preserve the identity of other spies who were still operating. Yet Blunt, who they now knew had been a Soviet spy, continued to live as before and even regularly visited the queen. Had she been told that the man in charge of the Royal Collection was a former Soviet spy? It would appear that nothing had changed. She continued to place her confidence in her advisor, who after all was a pre-eminent art historian. It is not even clear if the prime minister was kept in the loop.

Unfortunately, the wheel turned again for Blunt fifteen years later. In 1979 Goronwy Rees was suffering from incurable cancer and suddenly decided to reveal all about Blunt. He told his story to a journalist who wrote an investigative book about the Cambridge spies. Blunt was publically denounced. Even though the author had used a pseudonym for his name, the picture was clear and there was nothing to prevent the scandal. Margaret Thatcher had just come to power as prime minister and as well as facing many social and economic difficulties, the Blunt case was to prove opportune and the Iron Lady wasted no time. After the newspapers had accused Blunt, Prime Minister Thatcher revealed his role as a spy. This political stunt lasted a while and came just at the right time for the press.

Blunt, protected by his judicial immunity, would spend the rest of his life in the greatest secrecy and in quiet dignity. Prime Minister Thatcher protected the Queen by saying that if Blunt had continued to perform his duties for Elizabeth II, it was so that the Soviets would not find out that one of their spies had been unmasked.

Often the truth is more complicated. Looking through the Soviet archives that had been briefly opened under the presidency of Boris Yeltsin, we discover that Arnold Deutsch recruited at least seventeen agents at Cambridge and elsewhere, but many are missing. Everything therefore seems to say that many of these spies have not yet been identified. This can lead to the hypothesis that by revealing the spectacular treachery of the ‘Cambridge Five’, does this not raise a smokescreen in order to protect these traitors? Hence the role of the Blunt case. There was enough here to write a real soap-opera - a big boon for the tabloid newspapers. All the ingredients were there: the social class of the main character, who represented the typical class snob with his intellectualism and his proximity to the royal family, not to mention his homosexuality. In the meantime, looking for the other moles was dispensed with - another reason to assume that a higher authority was acting on their behalf and was thus manipulating public opinion and intelligence services.

George Steiner⁸

A quick review of the narrative is sufficient to show that it is full of gaps, unanswered questions and improbabilities, to the point of being virtually useless. Suppose that there was some form of disorder in recruitment in 1940. Nevertheless, how is it possible that at the time of the Nazi-Soviet Pact, MI5 neglected all that Blunt had exposed about his feelings in the columns of the ‘Spectator’ and in his 1937 trial? Who buried the dossier handed to MI5 in 1939 by Walter Krivitsky, a Soviet general on the run, in which Blunt was not identified? This inevitably infers that some form of protection was being given in very high places. That’s a double life placed under a magic spell from the start. How was it possible to allow Blunt, who had shared an apartment with Burgess, to slip between the cracks during the fracas of 1951?The confession of 1964 and the promise of immunity is just not plausible.

[Later, Steiner concludes]

Once again it leads one to think that there was a guardian or guardian angel hovering over him in high places. An Oxford philosopher, a man of experience and flawless insight, a member of that blessed circle that is the beautiful world of the British bureaucrat, told me quite frankly that the Blunt story, as it has been told to the public, is in many ways an invention. It was designed and disclosed precisely to lay a smokescreen behind which other prominent characters in the drama could scatter and reach safety.