Burglars Who Took On F.B.I. Abandon Shadows

   -

See Video at
http://www.nytimes.com/video/us/100000002635482/stealing-j-edgar-hoovers-secrets.html
PHILADELPHIA — The perfect crime is far easier to pull off when nobody is
watching.

So on a night nearly 43 years ago, while Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier
bludgeoned each other over 15 rounds in a televised title bout viewed by
millions around the world, burglars took a lock pick and a crowbar and
broke into a Federal Bureau of
Investigation<http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/organizations/f/federal_bureau_of_investigation/index.html?inline=nyt-org>
office
in a suburb of Philadelphia, making off with nearly every document inside.

They were never caught, and the stolen documents that they mailed
anonymously to newspaper reporters were the first trickle of what would
become a flood of revelations about extensive spying and dirty-tricks
operations by the F.B.I. against dissident groups.

The burglary in Media, Pa., on March 8, 1971, is a historical echo today,
as disclosures by the former National Security Agency contractor Edward J.
Snowden have cast another unflattering light on government spying and
opened a national debate about the proper limits of government
surveillance. The burglars had, until now, maintained a vow of silence
about their roles in the operation. They were content in knowing that their
actions had dealt the first significant blow to an institution that had
amassed enormous power and prestige during J. Edgar
Hoover<http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/people/h/j_edgar_hoover/index.html?inline=nyt-per>’s
lengthy tenure as director.

“When you talked to people outside the movement about what the F.B.I. was
doing, nobody wanted to believe it,” said one of the burglars, Keith
Forsyth, who is finally going public about his involvement. “There was only
one way to convince people that it was true, and that was to get it in
their handwriting.”

Mr. Forsyth, now 63, and other members of the group can no longer be
prosecuted for what happened that night, and they agreed to be interviewed
before the release this week of a
book<http://www.randomhouse.com/book/224642/the-burglary-by-betty-medsger>
written
by one of the first journalists to receive the stolen documents. The
author, Betty Medsger, a former reporter for The Washington Post, spent
years sifting through the F.B.I.’s voluminous case file on the episode and
persuaded five of the eight men and women who participated in the break-in
to end their silence.

Unlike Mr. Snowden, who downloaded hundreds of thousands of digital N.S.A.
files onto computer hard drives, the Media burglars did their work the
20th-century way: they cased the F.B.I. office for months, wore gloves as
they packed the papers into suitcases, and loaded the suitcases into
getaway cars. When the operation was over, they dispersed. Some remained
committed to antiwar causes, while others, like John and Bonnie Raines,
decided that the risky burglary would be their final act of protest against
the Vietnam War and other government actions before they moved on with
their lives.

“We didn’t need attention, because we had done what needed to be done,”
said Mr. Raines, 80, who had, with his wife, arranged for family members to
raise the couple’s three children if they were sent to prison. “The ’60s
were over. We didn’t have to hold on to what we did back then.”

A Meticulous Plan

The burglary was the idea of William C. Davidon, a professor of physics at
Haverford College and a fixture of antiwar protests in Philadelphia, a city
that by the early 1970s had become a white-hot center of the peace
movement. Mr. Davidon was frustrated that years of organized demonstrations
seemed to have had little impact.

In the summer of 1970, months after President Richard M. Nixon announced
the United States’ invasion of Cambodia, Mr. Davidon began assembling a
team from a group of activists whose commitment and discretion he had come
to trust.

The group — originally nine, before one member dropped out — concluded that
it would be too risky to try to break into the F.B.I. office in downtown
Philadelphia, where security was tight. They soon settled on the bureau’s
satellite office in Media, in an apartment building across the street from
the county courthouse.

That decision carried its own risks: Nobody could be certain whether the
satellite office would have any documents about the F.B.I.’s surveillance
of war protesters, or whether a security alarm would trip as soon as the
burglars opened the door.

The group spent months casing the building, driving past it at all times of
the night and memorizing the routines of its residents.

“We knew when people came home from work, when their lights went out, when
they went to bed, when they woke up in the morning,” said Mr. Raines, who
was a professor of religion at Temple University at the time. “We were
quite certain that we understood the nightly activities in and around that
building.”

But it wasn’t until Ms. Raines got inside the office that the group grew
confident that it did not have a security system. Weeks before the
burglary, she visited the office posing as a Swarthmore College student
researching job opportunities for women at the F.B.I.

The burglary itself went off largely without a hitch, except for when Mr.
Forsyth, the designated lock-picker, had to break into a different entrance
than planned when he discovered that the F.B.I. had installed a lock on the
main door that he could not pick. He used a crowbar to break the second
lock, a deadbolt above the doorknob.

After packing the documents into suitcases, the burglars piled into getaway
cars and rendezvoused at a farmhouse to sort through what they had stolen.
To their relief, they soon discovered that the bulk of it was hard evidence
of the F.B.I.’s spying on political groups. Identifying themselves as the
Citizens’ Commission to Investigate the F.B.I., the burglars sent select
documents to several newspaper reporters. Two weeks after the burglary, Ms.
Medsger wrote the first article based on the files, after the Nixon
administration tried unsuccessfully to get The Post to return the documents.

Other news organizations that had received the documents, including The New
York Times, followed with their own reports.

Ms. Medsger’s article cited what was perhaps the most damning document from
the cache, a 1970 memorandum that offered a glimpse into Hoover’s obsession
with snuffing out dissent. The document urged agents to step up their
interviews of antiwar activists and members of dissident student groups.

“It will enhance the paranoia endemic in these circles and will further
serve to get the point across there is an F.B.I. agent behind every
mailbox,” the message from F.B.I. headquarters said. Another document,
signed by Hoover himself, revealed widespread F.B.I. surveillance of black
student groups on college campuses.

But the document that would have the biggest impact on reining in the
F.B.I.’s domestic spying activities was an internal routing slip, dated
1968, bearing a mysterious word: Cointelpro.

Neither the Media burglars nor the reporters who received the documents
understood the meaning of the term, and it was not until several years
later, when the NBC News reporter Carl Stern obtained more files from the
F.B.I. under the Freedom of Information Act, that the contours of
Cointelpro — shorthand for Counterintelligence Program — were revealed.

Since 1956, the F.B.I. had carried out an expansive campaign to spy on
civil rights leaders, political organizers and suspected Communists, and
had tried to sow distrust among protest groups. Among the grim litany of
revelations was a blackmail letter F.B.I. agents had sent anonymously to
the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., threatening to expose his extramarital
affairs if he did not commit suicide.

“It wasn’t just spying on Americans,” said Loch K. Johnson, a professor of
public and international affairs at the University of Georgia who was an
aide to Senator Frank Church, Democrat of Idaho. “The intent of Cointelpro
was to destroy lives and ruin reputations.”

Senator Church’s investigation in the mid-1970s revealed still more about
the extent of decades of F.B.I. abuses, and led to greater congressional
oversight of the F.B.I. and other American intelligence agencies. The
Church Committee’s final report about the domestic surveillance was blunt.
“Too many people have been spied upon by too many government agencies, and
too much information has been collected,” it read.

By the time the committee released its report, Hoover was dead and the
empire he had built at the F.B.I. was being steadily dismantled. The
roughly 200 agents he had assigned to investigate the Media burglary came
back empty-handed, and the F.B.I. closed the case on March 11, 1976 — three
days after the statute of limitations for burglary charges had expired.

Michael P. Kortan, a spokesman for the F.B.I., said that “a number of
events during that era, including the Media burglary, contributed to
changes to how the F.B.I. identified and addressed domestic security
threats, leading to reform of the F.B.I.’s intelligence policies and
practices and the creation of investigative guidelines by the Department of
Justice.”

According to Ms. Medsger’s book, “The Burglary: The Discovery of J. Edgar
Hoover’s Secret F.B.I.,” only one of the burglars was on the F.B.I.’s final
list of possible suspects before the case was closed.

A Retreat Into Silence

The eight burglars rarely spoke to one another while the F.B.I.
investigation was proceeding and never again met as a group.

Mr. Davidon died late last year from complications of Parkinson’s disease.
He had planned to speak publicly about his role in the break-in, but three
of the burglars have chosen to remain anonymous.

Among those who have come forward — Mr. Forsyth, the Raineses and a man
named Bob Williamson — there is some wariness of how their decision will be
viewed.

The passage of years has worn some of the edges off the once radical
political views of John and Bonnie Raines. But they said they felt a
kinship toward Mr. Snowden, whose revelations about N.S.A. spying they see
as a bookend to their own disclosures so long ago.

They know some people will criticize them for having taken part in
something that, if they had been caught and convicted, might have separated
them from their children for years. But they insist they would never have
joined the team of burglars had they not been convinced they would get away
with it.

“It looks like we’re terribly reckless people,” Mr. Raines said. “But there
was absolutely no one in Washington — senators, congressmen, even the
president — who dared hold J. Edgar Hoover to accountability.”

“It became pretty obvious to us,” he said, “that if we don’t do it, nobody
will.”
Mr. Forsyth today.Photo by: Mark Makela for The New York Times
At The Washington Post, Betty Medsger was the first to report on the
contents of the stolen F.B.I. files. Now, she has written a book about the
episode.Photo by: Robert Caplin for The New York Times
Afterward, they fled to a farmhouse, near Pottstown, Pa., where they spent
10 days sorting through the documents.Photo by: Betty Medsger

-- 
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups 
"Thatha_Patty" group.
To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email 
to [email protected].
For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/groups/opt_out.

Reply via email to