Saturday 31 August 2024

BOOK REVIEW: Information Operations: Facts Fakes Conspiracies

A review of Information Operations: Facts Fakes Conspiracies by Dr Steve Tatham (Howgate Publishing, 2024). This personal review does not reflect the views of my employers.

This is a timely book, for at least two reasons.

 

Firstly, victory in the Russia-Ukraine war may go to the side best able to use information operations to sustain its own national will and degrade that of their opponent. Both Moscow and Kyiv are using extensive information activities to target multiple audiences, including each other’s armed forces, civilian populations and leaderships, along with audiences in their own countries, the West and the Global South. Anyone following the conflict should therefore be aware of the role that information activity plays in modern warfare.

 

The second reason is UK-specific. Although published before the British general election and the new government's announcement of its Strategic Defence Review, Captain Steve Tatham RN may now see his book, with its many recommendations, as a here’s-one-I-prepared-earlier personal submission to Lord Robertson’s review.

 

The book is a very rare example of its type. There’s no shortage of volumes giving advice on influencing the perceptions, attitudes and behaviours of others, in the context of commercial advertising or political campaigns. Less common are books devoted to such activities as part of military operations, and there are very few indeed by British authors who write from extensive personal experience of practising such arts.

 

The grandfather of this niche genre was Sefton Delmer. In the 1930s, as Berlin correspondent of the Daily Express, he saw the Nazis rise to power. Within a few years he was the intellectual and practical dynamo in the organisation that ran Britain’s external-facing information activities in the Second World War. This was the cross-government, civilian-led but heavily military-focused, body called the Political Warfare Executive (PWE).

 

Black Boomerang (published 1962), one of Delmer’s three volumes of autobiography, is an entertaining memoir of his wartime service, describing some of his many ventures. These went well beyond his now well-known projects such as the bogus geheimsender (secret transmitter) Gustav Siegfried Eins (GS1). Supposedly transmitting secretly from within the Reich, Delmer used GS1 to air the thoughts of his brilliant creation “Der Chef” – a foul-mouthed, often pornographic, ultraconservative and ultranationalist Prussian officer who combined anti-Nazism with anti-Semitism, anti-Bolshevism and Anglophobia – embodying Delmer’s conviction that it would be more effective to appeal to Germans’ baser natures than their nobler ones (a view that ruffled feathers elsewhere in PWE and the British government).

 

Later in the war, Delmer devised and ran the much more ambitious radio stations Kurzwellensender Atlantik and Soldatensender Calais. Unlike GS1, which was, in the jargon of information warfare, the blackest of “black” (falsely attributed; claiming to be something it most certainly wasn’t), these two later stations were deliberately “grey” (not explicitly attributed), allowing (indeed, encouraging) listeners to make up their own minds about their affiliation, while engaging in the self-delusion and cognitive dissonance to which Delmer saw Germans as prone. He also edited Nachrichten für die Truppe, the daily “grey” newspaper for the Wehrmacht produced in Britain during the last year of the war and dropped over German positions by the US Army Air Forces.

 

Black Boomerang is deservedly a classic, but it’s not a fully accurate record. Delmer was no fantasist, but presumably he didn’t have access to PWE’s files when he wrote the book almost two decades after some of the events he described, and apparently also not having kept a diary, he made too many mistakes about dates and the sequence of events for the book to be treated as a reliable document of record.


Nevertheless, Black Boomerang remains an inspiration for today’s practitioners, and Delmer’s insistence that the PWE should seek to influence the behaviour of Germans, rather than change their attitudes or beliefs, is matched 80 years later by the strong advice that Steve Tatham gives.

 

The other former British practitioner to write a full-length memoir of military-related information operations – and I’ll now follow Tatham’s example by sticking to the abbreviation IO – was Neil ffrench-Blake. His 2015 book, The Pol Pot Conspiracy, deals mainly with how he was hired to set up and run Voice of Khmer, a clandestine radio station launched in 1984 by Singapore, financed by the CIA and based in Thailand. It supported efforts by the West and pro-Western states in Southeast Asia to drive the Vietnamese army out of Cambodia, an objective eventually achieved in 1989.

 

ffrench-Blake was offered the job by MI6, who owed Singapore a favour, and MI6 had turned to him because he had run the MOD’s tactical “off-white psyops station Radio Atlantico del Sur during the Falklands War. His book includes an extensive account of what he did during the South Atlantic conflict and the lessons he drew from it. These included – echoing Delmer’s view and anticipating Tatham’s – his insistence (and that of his MOD masters) that Radio Atlantico del Sur’s objectives should be entirely limited to changing the behaviour of Argentine troops, not their attitudes.

 

Like Delmer and ffrench-Blake, Tatham is an IO practitioner – and one with a length of experience to outmatch that of his two predecessors combined. He’s been working on IO for a quarter of a century.

 

Tatham sets out too many conclusions and recommendations for me to summarise here, but there are two themes that run through the book:

 

Firstly, he says military IO is not used as extensively, or as well, as it should be by Western armed forces, including those of the UK. Its use is “very carefully prescribed, often very conservative”. Tatham clearly finds this deeply frustrating. He recalls how, in 2013 when the UK was poised to engage in military activity against Syria’s Assad (eventually rejected by parliament), he and his colleagues devised plans for IO to target the Assad regime – but they were never presented to the MOD’s senior leadership. We need to be “much smarter”, he says.

 

He sees the career structures of Western armed forces (including the UK’s) as contributing to this problem. Tatham has a personal gripe here, observing ruefully that in recent years the top IO job in the British armed forces has always gone to an officer with a background in the teeth arms rather than an IO specialist such as himself. He notes a similar issue in the US Army, where officers who have based their careers in the separate (though related) field of media ops (what Americans call “public affairs” – that is, speaking to the press) can rise to become Generals, but those who specialise in psyops will go no further than full Colonel.

 

Secondly, Tatham repeatedly voices his strong belief that IO should be devoted to changing behaviours rather than attitudes, a mistake he believes Western military IO has been prone to throughout his career.

 

Here are some other points that Tatham makes forcefully:

 

  • The US military has wasted much money by hiring defence contractors to run IO, notably in Iraq and Afghanistan, because it was much better at tracking the contractors’ “measure of performance” (e.g. how many million leaflets they’d distributed) than their “measure of effect” (how far this activity had changed the behaviour of the target audience).
  • Excessive attention has been given to what he calls “social media scraping” (using IT experts and IT skills to analyse social media activity). He’d like to change that to an emphasis on using social science and psychological skills such as behavioural studies to understand the perceptions and motivations of the target audience.
  • Discussing (and running) IO is hampered by the constant writing and rewriting of doctrine (sometimes reinventing the wheel by returning to a previous version), and then the failure of those concerned to follow it. Tatham doesn’t quote Rommel’s quip that “the British write some of the best doctrine in the world; fortunately their officers don’t read it” but he has a similar one from a Soviet officer: “One of the serious problems in planning the fight against American doctrine is that the Americans do not read their manuals, nor do they feel any obligation to follow their doctrine.” An associated problem is “the tyranny of terminology”, with the failure of military staff to use jargon terms consistently and in line with their doctrinal definitions: terms such as psyops, information operations, information activity, information warfare, information exploitation and information advantage are used by different people to mean different things.

 

In support of his conclusions and recommendations, Tatham reviews past IO campaigns by the US and the UK, including those of the 21st century in Iraq and Afghanistan, though understandably refrains from talking about Western IO against Russia since its full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

 

The real-life examples he is able to give, particularly those from Afghanistan, where he served, will be the most interesting parts of the book for many readers, particularly those who may tire of theoretical debates about doctrine.

 

Although he covers Afghanistan in some detail, his experiences there deserve a separate book. He attributes the West’s defeat there as resulting from its failure to understand “the human dimension of the conflict and what motivated behaviours in Afghans”.

 

After a brisk and inevitably superficial canter through some of British military IO history since the Second World War, including in the Cold War and Northern Ireland, some readers may be surprised to learn about more recent British IO campaigns in places they would not have expected to find them, such as Jamaica (Operation Kingfish in 2003) and the Philippines (Operation Patwin in 2013).

 

One section of the book sits uneasily with the rest. In the second longest chapter (only slightly shorter than the one covering the US and British IO experiences in Iraq and Afghanistan) Tatham examines the “Cambridge Analytica affair”. Some readers may think the space could have been better used because, as he explains, Cambridge Analytica had nothing to do with the British armed forces or with any military IO. However, Tatham himself got caught up deeply in the story when it broke in the press in 2018 and says it was “one of the most stressful events of my life”, driving him into “deep depression”. Writing the chapter was therefore a chance for him to set the record straight.

 

Overall, this is a thoroughly good read, though as it’s a trim volume some interesting topics have been omitted. Thus, there’s no detail on the British use of IO in the 1950s campaigns in Malaya and Kenya, in the Middle East in the four decades after WW2, or in the Falklands War.

 

Tatham pushes one of his central ideas – the importance of behaviour over attitude – to a maximalist degree I feel is hard to sustain in all circumstances. It makes sense to prioritise changing behaviours in tactical and operational environments with their inherent time limits. But, to return to my point at the very start of this review, is national will influenced by, or expressed by, changes in behaviour or attitude? In which directions do the arrows point in a diagram showing the cause-and-effect relations between a population’s morale, and its behaviours and attitudes? How, for example, can Ukrainians’ belief in their ultimate victory be sustained? Such a belief is the guarantor of morale.

 

I’ll end on a personal note. As a member of BBC Monitoring for the past 43 years, I was delighted to read this passage among Tatham’s lengthy list of recommendations for action:

 

“We need to resource and expand BBC Monitoring back to its previous levels […] The BBC World Service is vital. And so too is BBC Monitoring: I, along with many others, wrote to Parliament when [in 2016] its potential disestablishment was announced. [I found during my work that] BBC Monitoring provided an exceptional insight into events on the ground and proved invaluable in so many previous operations. We are poorer for its reduced presence.”

 

Thanks!

 

© Chris Greenway 2024

Saturday 27 August 2022

The birth of BBC Monitoring

To mark the 83rd anniversary of the formation of the BBC Monitoring Service on 26 August 1939, I've revised and expanded my 2019 article on the events leading up that date.

Friday 15 July 2022

Six covert radio stations of the past 60 years

Here are links to articles on this blog profiling six covert (in one way or another) radio stations of the past 60 years - two British, one American, one Russian, one South African, one Palestinian.

In historical order:

Voice of the Coast A modest, and apparently well managed and competently executed, British effort in the second half of the 1960s. It aimed at countering Egyptian and other hostile propaganda in the Gulf. Posing as a local Arabic-language station for Sharjah and the other Trucial States, Voice of the Coast used a softly-softly approach and various shades of "grey" attribution (not attributed, vaguely attributed) to avoid being seen as a British propaganda operation. >> Read more

Radio Spark Set up in 1966 to exploit turmoil in China during the Cultural Revolution, this was one of three CIA-run stations based in Taiwan. They were so pure "black" (falsely attributed) that they ended up confusing other parts of the US intelligence community who assumed they were genuine dissident operations inside China. The stations were closed after Nixon's 1972 visit to China, but Taiwan appears to have revived them and they were running well into the 1980s. >> Read more

First August Radio Named after China's Army Day, this was a Soviet "active measures" and pure "black" operation to encourage dissent in the People's Liberation Army after China invaded Moscow's ally Vietnam in 1979. It is impossible to say whether it achieved this objective to any extent, but it did have nuisance value. It closed in 1986. >> Read more

Radio Atlantico del Sur Known to its operators as Project MOONSHINE, this was a short-lived British station targeting Argentine forces in the 1982 Falklands War. It had purely tactical objectives regarding enemy troops, rather than being an attempt at strategic communications targeting Argentina or Latin America. The FCO seemed to have been unable to grasp this, and rows between the FCO and MOD delayed the start of broadcasts and undermined the station's work and reputation. Pale "grey"/"off-white". >> Read more

Radio Truth One of several covert radio stations run by apartheid South Africa from the late 1970s and throughout the 1980s to undermine neighbouring countries, in this case Zimbabwe. Its presenters had British accents and gave an address in UK, but the station was in Johannesburg. Its operation was a long-running irritation to the Mugabe government. "Grey/black". >> Read more

Al-Quds Palestinian Arab Radio Funded by Libya and run by the PFLP-GC Palestinian faction from southern Syria. It was launched in 1988, shortly after the start of the first Palestinian intifada, quickly gaining a mass audience. It was a tactical success, but closed as a strategic failure more than 20 years later. "Light grey" (vaguely attributed). >> Read more

© 2022. Material may be reproduced if attributed to Chris Greenway and any original source.

Saturday 2 July 2022

When Britain wooed Arab hearts and minds

Note! I've updated my 2018 article on Voice of the Coast (Sawt al-Sahil), the Arabic-language radio station operated by Britain in the 1960s to counteract Egyptian and other hostile propaganda in the Gulf.

Wednesday 8 June 2022

Radio Atlantico del Sur - 40 years on

A strange thing has happened.

Once a barely known episode in the Falklands War, Radio Atlantico del Sur is now one of the best documented British information operations since the Second World War.

Even as recently as the 30th anniversary of the war, the few "facts" about the station that could be found in a Google search were generally wrong: all of the BBC's top management opposed it – nobody in the islands heard it  its presenters were civil servants  it used a "well known BBC frequency".  

There was a bizarre claim that it broadcast from a basement in the Foreign Office. Given what we now know the FCO was saying about the station in Whitehall, and in off-the-record briefings to the press, it would hardly have been more ridiculous to have said it was based in Buenos Aires.

The predominant impression was that it was, at best, a pointless exercise; and, at worst, counter-productive, even ludicrous. If described in a single word, it might have been "amateurish". 

The past 10 years have seen much more of the truth emerge about Radio Atlantico del Sur. I've tried to document as much of that as I can in this blog.

Latest disclosures

Now an excellent TV documentary by Stewart Purvis, broadcast in early April to mark the 40th anniversary of the war and available on YouTube, has added much more to our knowledge.

Purvis knew the station's manager, Neil ffrench-Blake, well, and had access to his large collection of secret papers. 

Some of the things revealed publicly for the first time in the documentary:  

- The station's military commentator, who was introduced on air as Jaime Montero, was in reality a serving major in the 14th/20th King's Hussars, Terence Scott (he's interviewed in the documentary).

- One of his cousins, Major Tony Valdes-Scott, who was in the same regiment, was the station's chief editor.

- Another cousin was the station's sole female announcer, who used the on-air Mariana Flores. I've described her work on my blog. 

- The station's chief engineer was Jim Warrack, a former RAF technician who in 1982 was an engineer at Hereward Radio in Peterborough.

- Soon after the launch of the station, Warrack quickly switched the station's feed from London to the transmitter on Ascension from a radio link to a phone line. (Something I had looked at in 2017 in my blog post The Incident at Crowsley Park on the Night of 20-21 May 1982.) 

- One of the news editors was David Addis, who in 2018 wrote an anonymous guest article on my blog. 

Monday 2 March 2020

Psychological radio warfare during the Troubles in Northern Ireland

I want to publicise an excellent study by Eddie Bohan of the underground radio scene in Northern Ireland during the early years of the Troubles

It would be pointless to rehash Bohan's study here, so I've simply compiled the lists below of the stations that he mentions.

Bohan says: "Their [the underground radio stations'] reputed listenership was in excess of 70% and they were often the sole outlet for news. They gave voice to the oppressed, they challenged the Government’s official positions, they provided morale boosts, they rallied their foot soldiers into action.

Republican/Nationalist
Radio Free Belfast (Falls Road) (1969)
Radio Free Derry (Socialist Resistance Group; Official IRA) (1969, 1971)
Radio Saoirse ("Radio Freedom") a.k.a. Voice of the Second Battalion (Derry) (Provisional IRA) (1969, 1971)
Radio Bogside (Derry) (1969)
Radio 3 Belfast (Falls Road) (October 1970)
Raidio na Phoblachta ("Radio of the Republic") (Belfast) (Marxist) 
Armagh Resistance Radio (1971)
Voice of Free Belfast (Andersonstown) (Socialist) 
Workers' Radio (Falls Road) (Official IRA) (1972)
Radio Sunshine 
Radio Free Newry (1974)

Loyalist/Unionist
Radio Free Ulster a.k.a. Radio Ulster a.k.a. Voice of Ulster (Shankill Road, Belfast) (1969)
Radio Orange (Shankill Road) (1969, 1970)
Radio Shankill a.k.a. Radio Ulster (seems to have been a different "Radio Ulster" from the one above) (1969)
Radio Sundown (Shankill Road) (1969)
Radio Free Nick a.k.a. Voice of the UDA (Ulster Defence Association) (Belfast) (1972)
Radio Northern Ireland
Radio Ajax a.k.a. Radio Big Jim (Belfast)
Radio Woodvale (1974)

Neutral/non-sectarian/"peace" radios
Radio Peace (Springfield Park, West Belfast) (1969)
Gnomes of Ulster a.k.a GNU Radio (South Belfast) (1972)
Harmony Radio
Radio 99 a.k.a. Radio Caroline North (County Fermanagh, County Monaghan) (1971)
Radio Antrim (1973-1975)

Saturday 29 February 2020

From my archive: Radio and the assassination of President Sadat

I wrote the article below for the October 1981 edition of Communication, the journal of the British DX Club (an association of radio enthusiasts and hobbyists).

The key point of the article is that, for several hours after Sadat's assassination, Egyptian state radio was incapable of reacting to (or even reporting) it, while its Libyan counterpart did its best to exploit that failure. At the time, Libya was both a source and a target of psychological radio activity.


In 1981, fifteen years before the internet and pan-Arab satellite TV channels began to become the preferred source of news for Arab audiences, they often heard about developments in their own countries from foreign radio broadcasts. This included stations in other Arab countries as well as those outside the region such as the BBC Arabic service and its Paris-based competitor Radio Monte Carlo.


The article mentions Libyan radio's external Arabic-language service,
Voice of the Arab Homeland. In March 1983 this was renamed Voice of the Greater Arab Homeland. In 1998 it became Voice of Africa, reflecting Colonel Gaddafi's changed foreign policy priorities.

Also mentioned is
Voice of the Egyptian People. This anti-Sadat clandestine radio station broadcast from Libya.


The 1981 article:


When President Reagan was shot earlier this year [30 March 1981] television pictures of the assassination attempt were being shown around the world within minutes of the event. And when a gunman seriously wounded the Pope in St Peter's Square [on 13 May 1981] listeners to Vatican Radio were soon hearing up-to-the-minute reports on the Pope's condition broadcast for multilingual audiences worldwide on a number of shortwave channels.

It was a different matter when President Anwar Sadat was shot by a group of Egyptian soldiers at a military parade in Cairo on 6 October. Although this dramatic event was potentially an occasion for the keen shortwave listener to receive first-hand reports direct from the scene, the behaviour of the Egyptian broadcasting system precluded this.

Outside broadcast cut short

It was at 1104 GMT, 1304 Egyptian time [1], that six soldiers leapt from an army lorry which had stopped in front of the president's reviewing stand, threw grenades at Sadat and other VIPs and then opened fire, fatally wounding the Egyptian leader and seven others and causing at least 20 other casualties. [Note in 2020: There are now various figures available for the number of those killed and injured.]

Egyptian state radio and television, which had been carrying a live outside broadcast of the ceremony, abruptly cut this short without explanation, leaving listeners and viewers bewildered. For Egyptians, foreign broadcasters became the only sources of information about events in their own capital for almost seven hours. Their confusion must have been compounded as these foreign radio stations, particularly those broadcasting specifically to Egypt, gave conflicting accounts of events in Cairo.

Meanwhile, within an hour of the shooting, lunch time listeners in Britain were receiving full coverage of what was known at the time, including several eyewitness reports, on Radio 4's The World at One (at 1200 GMT). Sadat died in hospital at around 1215 GMT and his death was unofficially communicated shortly afterwards to the world's press. [2]

Libyan radio changes its schedule

The state radio in neighbouring Libya had pre-empted this information and was announcing Sadat's death within an hour of the shooting in Cairo, giving rise to suspicions that sources in Libya may have had advanced warning of the attack.

At 1253 GMT, Tripoli radio announced that General Shazly, a former Egyptian army chief of staff now living in Libya as leader of the Egyptian National Front (an umbrella opposition group), would "be broadcasting an important announcement to the people shortly". At 1300 GMT it was broadcasting calls to the Egyptian people, urging them to take over the radio station in Cairo and, in typical polemical style, announcing that "Sadat's face has disappeared, the ugly face has disappeared with all its shame, capitulation and defeat. Sadat has died and some of his ministers have died too. Shame and treason ­died with him."

In response to events, Libyan radio discontinued its relay of its domestic service on short wave at 1415 GMT, replacing it with its Voice of the Arab Homeland external service for listeners in the Arab world. (This service does not normally start until 1800.) Later this service using 17930, 15415, 15270 and 6185 kHz carried a speech on the assassination by Libyan leader Colonel Gaddafi.

Meanwhile, the official Libyan news agency JANA was carrying a report claiming that a local broadcast from an Egyptian radio station had been heard carrying a "revolutionary statement in the name of the free officers".

Delayed, and limited, reporting from Cairo

Like the calm at the eye of a storm, the Radio Cairo external service, in its 1230 GMT scheduled news bulletin in English to Asia, gave no indication that the assassination had taken place. Only at 1625 GMT did it give any indication of the trouble by starting to broadcast verses from the Koran. These, uninterrupted by announcements, were heard on frequencies normally scheduled to relay both Egyptian radio's General Service and those of its Voice of the Arabs outlet.

Finally, at 1752 GMT, the Koranic recitation was interrupted for an announcement by a solemn Vice-President Mubarak. This announcement, and the English news bulletin for Europe at 2130, gave very few details of the manner of Sadat's death but merely said he had been attacked at the parade to commemorate "the 6th October victory", the day when "dignity was restored to the entire Arab nation".

Clandestine radio

The anti-Sadat Voice of the Egyptian People clandestine radio station failed to appear on the evening of 6 October for its scheduled 1900-2000 GMT broadcast on 9670 kHz. [I now speculate that this was because the programme was pre-recorded, and the edition scheduled to air that evening had been prepared before the assassination. Rather than air a broadcast that made no mention of the news from Cairo, its Libyan operators decided that the station should remain silent that day. CG, 2020]

Notes

[1] Although the UK was still on summer time on 6 October 1981, Egypt had reverted to winter time on 1 October and so was GMT+2.

[2] The time of death as 1215 GMT was given in the following day's Times (of London). The archives of the New York Times and United Press International give the time of death as 1240 GMT, 1440 Egyptian time.

© 1981 and 2020. Material may be reproduced if attributed to Chris Greenway and the British DX Club.