> I had a chilling encounter during my time as a KGB spy in the United States. I vividly remember the moment a stranger in a black trench coat approached me on a dark morning in Queens, whispering, "You gotta come back or else you're dead."
> Defecting from the KGB was a rare and risky move, but I did it. Sharing my story not only sheds light on the KGB's operations but also highlights the psychological and ideological aspects of being a spy. My journey as a former KGB agent is a testament to the extraordinary life I've lived.
> - The KGB was not just an intelligence agency; it was a reflection of deep-seated paranoia and instability within the Soviet regime, rooted in a culture of mistrust that ultimately made it unsustainable. “The Soviet Union was the only dictatorship in history that did not rest its powers on the military; they rested it on the intelligence apparatus."
> - My experience in the KGB showed me how crucial trust is in any organization. Even though I was living a web of lies, the working relationship I had was built on trust—without it, nothing works effectively. “If they don’t trust me, they don’t send me out, and if I don’t trust them, I’m not going."
> - While I believed strongly in the communist vision when I was part of the KGB, this belief eventually seemed naive. “That was a stupid pipe dream,” and it’s clear in hindsight that those ideologies often led to missing the bigger picture of our flawed tactics and eventual downfall.
> Growing up in East Germany, I was deeply influenced by the narrative that communism was a force against fascism and the only group fighting Nazis during Hitler's rise. The emotional and gut-wrenching experience of visiting a concentration camp as a student made a profound impact on my beliefs, reinforcing this narrative.
> The inherent flaw in communism, from my perspective, lies in the belief that a new, just organization would organically form post-revolution. This almost never happened without devolving into hierarchical structures dominated by the most ambitious and power-hungry individuals, inevitably leading to corruption and terror, as seen in the reigns of Stalin and Mao.
> The contrast between East and West Germany post-WWII was stark; the economic and political strategies of the Soviet Union versus the West led to vastly different outcomes. The Marshall Plan helped the West thrive, while the East struggled under Soviet-imposed reparations and control. Despite my early indoctrination, the realities of these differences became apparent over time.
> One key insight from my past is how my first love shaped my dedication to studying: "Up until that point, I just did whatever I had to do... and that's when I started studying in every A that I got, I dedicated to her." This experience taught me the importance of hard work to be someone worth adoring.
> Another impactful moment was the heartbreak that followed, leaving me feeling deeply alone: "You're just there alone and you have to experience this pain alone... I didn't have... emotional relationship... I literally had nobody." However, this loneliness fueled my drive to excel academically, leading me to outwork my peers and excel in my studies.
> The unexpected opportunity with the KGB came as a surprise; I had visions of becoming a tenured professor in East Germany, proud and full of myself, never imagining I’d be considered a spy. “I mean, I was on my way to living a respectable life within the ruling elite.”
> During my recruitment, I developed a bond with a KGB operator named Herman, who became an older brother figure to me. We shared personal stories, which strangely helped me feel connected despite the nature of our relationship, and he often told me, “They’re looking for guys too,” which was both comforting and encouraging.
> The elaborate testing I underwent reinforced my instincts for survival; I wasn't always comfortable lying, but I became good at blending in. I recalled that one time when I was tasked to gather information—“I hated it,” yet the thrill of succeeding kept pushing me to excel.
> The tipping point was the moment I had to choose between a stable academic career and a life of secret missions. The allure of adventure and being part of something greater felt irresistible, leading me to decide, “Hey, I’m in,” embracing the chance for a new stage in life.
> My experiences highlighted the importance of being solution-oriented. When faced with daunting challenges, I learned that keeping my head down and finding creative solutions led to success. “Bosses do not like to hear complaints or problems; they prefer solutions,” became a mantra that guided my journey as I adapted to my new life.
> The training was incredibly rigorous and multifaceted, encompassing skills like Morse code, encryption and decryption methods, counter surveillance tactics, and even cultural education. I had to be proficient not just technically, but also in understanding Western culture to effectively integrate myself into society and avoid detection.
> My proficiency in English was a key element, considering my abilities allowed me to become almost flawless in the language. Additionally, learning practical espionage techniques such as surveillance detection routes and recognizing patterns in faces to avoid being followed were vital parts of my training that became second nature over time.
> The cultural immersion was profound; I was encouraged to broaden my horizons by visiting museums, theatres, and reading extensively from Western literature. This wasn't just about blending in but becoming sophisticated enough to mingle effortlessly in high society, which was critical for accessing valuable information and targets.
> Learning English in a unique way with a focus on vocabulary was key for me. I was inspired by Lenin's approach to learning German, and I developed my own system to learn 100 new English words every day. This method, while effective in expanding my vocabulary, also made me use less common words, which was noticed by others.
> I developed a programmatic way to learn through spaced repetition, similar to my index card system. While not ideal for spycraft due to potential language nuances, confidently using different words and accents can have its charm. Programming became a passion for me in college, where I saw the power of creating programs to analyze and understand the world, like calculating the area under a curve.
> Moving to Moscow was a pivotal moment. I was sent there for training, and although it was my first plane trip, it also meant immersing myself in a world filled with spies and secrets. I quickly learned that the ability to imitate sounds was my gift, helping me blend into a culture that felt both foreign and oddly familiar.
> The stark contrast between living in East Germany and Moscow opened my eyes to the harsh realities of life under communism. The standard of living was undeniably lower; supermarket shelves were often bare, and I frequently witnessed signs of societal decay. "If you saw a line at a store, you just lined up—you didn’t even ask what they had."
> Those two years also taught me invaluable lessons about being alone. I had no social support and minimal interaction, which ultimately made my transition to America quite challenging. I had to relearn how to connect with people, adopting a listening role to understand the nuances of American life, as my past had equipped me with unique skills but left me socially isolated.
> I was born Ibrahimino in East Germany, became Dieter in Moscow, and then Jack Barsky in America. I had various identities, including William Dyson, using a Canadian passport to enter the United States. My journey from Moscow involved a three-month stint in Canada which was crucial in adapting to the western culture.
> A memorable incident in Canada was trying to get a birth certificate for a deceased person named Henry Van Randle, almost blowing my cover. Similar close calls occurred in Chicago, where poor planning and inadequate training from the KGB could have easily ended my spying career early on. There was glaring incompetence in preparing me fully for American life.
> The notion that intelligence agencies like the CIA or KGB utterly control powerful people is exaggerated. There is definitely collusion, but power dynamics are more nuanced. It's a two-way street where both intelligence agents and power holders influence each other. Assassinations do happen, showing these agencies sometimes cross extreme moral lines when deemed necessary.
> I find it frustrating that some people underestimate the complexity of intelligence agencies and how decisions are made. It's not always as direct as it seems but rather a chain of actions initiated by suggestive musings.
> There is a clear distinction between the head of an intelligence agency and the head of state. While the former may give direct orders in a compartmentalized manner, the latter, like Putin, may not always be directly involved but could create an environment conducive to such actions through personal relationships within intelligence agencies.
> The reality of the military-industrial complex is stark; it shapes not only our foreign policy but convinces us that we can force our ideals onto other nations, despite the disastrous outcomes we've witnessed in Iraq and Afghanistan. "We've been sold a lie about the reason to invade," and yet we continue to believe we can achieve lasting peace through aggression.
> Moreover, the narrative of black-and-white morality in the Ukraine conflict oversimplifies a complex situation; both Ukraine and Russia share a corrupt past, yet we often paint them as clear heroes and villains. "One is bigger, and one is the aggressor," but recognizing the shades of gray is crucial as we stand on the brink of a potentially catastrophic escalation involving nuclear weapons.
> Putin, despite being a strong politician and an excellent organizer who managed to clean up the chaotic post-Yeltsin Russia, was not regarded as a top KGB agent. His deployment to East Germany rather than more challenging environments like West Germany or Austria hints that he wasn't considered the best of the best. As Oleg Kalugin, former head of KGB counterintelligence, mentioned, “Putin was not an impressive agent.”
> Analyzing figures like Putin involves recognizing the complexity of their skills and the influence of their background. While his political acumen and ability to form beneficial connections helped him rise, the world of intelligence teaches that the full truth is often elusive. Understanding his ascent requires considering both his political and intelligence maneuvering while acknowledging the pervasive biases and propaganda.
> I believe that Bessmanov's concept of large-scale ideological subversion by the KGB was exaggerated. Despite some successful instances of manipulating public perception, the KGB's overall ability to systematically destabilize a country like the United States was limited by incompetence and lack of detailed knowledge about the target country.
> In the modern age, with advancements in technology, mass surveillance and manipulation have become more feasible, but executing a sophisticated, coordinated manipulation campaign at scale still requires a high level of intelligence, collaboration, and strategic planning that may be challenging to achieve effectively, especially with compartmentalization and bureaucratic barriers.
> Trusting people comes naturally to me — "my natural inclination is that person is a cool person." But as I’ve navigated conversations with serious individuals involved in global conflicts, it’s become clear that I need to be careful. The world is filled with "hard men" and complex motivations, and it’s crucial to discern who is genuinely trustworthy amid all this complexity.
> There's an increase in amateur spies out there, as seen with people just using social media, and it’s alarming to think that "there will be attempted espionage probably one every minute." This digital age makes it increasingly difficult to know what's real, as more interactions occur under a veneer of normalcy, possibly hiding serious agendas.
> Reflecting on Vladimir Putin's experiences in the KGB, particularly during the tumultuous fall of the Berlin Wall, it’s clear that the perceived powerlessness he felt at that moment significantly shaped his nationalist agenda. Putin's desire to restore Russia to greatness, fueled by his conviction that the collapse of the Soviet Union was a great tragedy, reveals a drive to ensure Russia and its intelligence agencies never appear weak again.
> Regarding Ukraine and its leadership under President Volodymyr Zelenskiy, I would question the balance between territorial integrity and human lives. It's not simply about defending land; it’s about preserving sovereignty and national identity. This fierce pride and willingness to resist aggression, despite potential sacrifices, is a testament to the Ukrainian spirit echoing through their history and cultural ethos. While I personally admit to not having the same level of courage, I understand the necessity of drawing lines that, when crossed, evoke a fierce protective response.
> Discovering the danger signal - A red dot on a support beam in Queens, leading to the realization of imminent danger and the need to leave the country urgently.
> Connecting with fatherhood - Falling in love with his daughter and the emotional struggle of deciding between protecting her future and leaving the country to ensure her well-being.
> Crafting an elaborate exit strategy - Fabricating a story of contracting HIV/AIDS to secure a peaceful exit, involving creating a fake letter, deceiving his family, and staging his own death to evade detection.
> Surrendering to the FBI - Recalling the dramatic moment of being approached by the FBI after years of surveillance, maintaining cooperation and transparency as the key to navigating a new life in the United States and eventually becoming a citizen.
> Love is the most powerful human emotion, and I've truly come to understand that "love conquers all." Reflecting on my life, it's evident that love has shaped my experiences, especially when I think about my daughters and the joy they bring. I'm more inclined now to spread kindness, seeking those random acts that not only uplift others but enrich my own soul.
> Regrets are a complex part of my journey. I betrayed the wife I loved, yet in doing so, I found immense love in my children. It’s a strange balance of choices where I’ve realized, "you get to choose your regrets." Interestingly, I don’t regret lying to my mother; we never had that deep emotional connection. Hearing about her search for me after I left, it’s a bittersweet reminder that sometimes our past choices lead us to unexpected forms of love.
> Living with hope and love forms the core of my philosophy. Despite becoming a Christian later in life, where faith was harder to wholly embrace, I find comfort in the logical aspects of Christianity and the heartfelt belief that "God is love."
> Facing the later stages of life with a commitment to staying mentally and physically sharp is crucial to me. I run four to five times a week and plan to start lifting weights again, because going out "with guns blazing" is better than succumbing to a slow decline.