On November 10, 2020,
one of the most popular Russian semi-tabloid newspapers Moskovsky
Komsomolets published an interview of Tamara Netyksa, veteran KGB illegal
intelligence officer. The interview was conducted by a well-known Russian
journalist Eva Merkacheva who frequently writes about the Russian foreign
intelligence service. Below is my translation available only on this
website.
Declassified in January
2020, Netyksa gave her first major public interview to the Russian state-owned
news agency RIA Novosti on March 6, 2020. My translation of this
interview is also available on the website and can be accessed here.
Eva Merkacheva:
Declassified Intelligence Officer Tamara Netyksa Reveals the Methods of Illegal
Intelligence
November 10, 2020
Moskovsky Komsomolets
She could have become
a ballerina and her husband could have been a violinist or a great scientist.
But they became illegal intelligence officers and used their artistic and
scientific talents to obtain top secret information for the [Moscow] Center.
The names of husband
and wife, Vitaly and Tamara Netyksa, were declassified in January 2020 by the
director of the Foreign Intelligence Service, Sergey Naryshkin. Unfortunately,
Hero of Russia Vitaly Vyacheslavovich did not live to see this moment (he died
in 2011). But his wife is now sitting in front of me. She appears a little bit
embarrassed that there is so much media attention on her, but she is the only
living witness of her husband’s accomplishments. And, of course, of her own
accomplishments as well.
How artistic talents can
aid recruitment, how her husband almost became the president of a foreign
country, and how he prevented terrorist attacks in Moscow are some of the
topics that the retired Colonel Tamara Netyksa talked about in a revealing
interview with a journalist of Moskovsky Komsomolets.
Explanatory Note (Moskovsky
Komsomolets)
Husband and wife,
Vitaly and Tamara Netyksa, worked in Latin American countries with strict
administrative and police regimes. Being exposed in those places would have
cost them their lives. The intelligence services of those countries actively
used torture. The Netyksas obtained military and technical information that
these countries had about their neighbors.
While abroad, they had
a son and a daughter, who learned that they were Russian only after their parents’
return to the homeland. Vitaly Netyksa was promoted to the rank of Major
General and decorated as Hero of Russia.
Where Intelligence
Officers Fall in Love
- Tamara Ivanovna,
there are so many interesting events in your life, enough for several books. So,
it’s impossible to tell everything in one interview. But what would you like to
tell our readers?
- Let me think... Well,
everything can never be told in principle. It wasn’t so long ago that my
husband and I returned to Russia, and those who can recognize us are still
alive. Some of our work is still classified.
I would like to tell
you why we chose this profession. But, at the same time, I wouldn’t like our
conversation to be about some kind of made-up patriotism. Just imagine, Victor
was from a family of intellectuals (his ancestors were aristocrats). He was smart,
intelligent, handsome. As they say, 10 points out of 10. He could have become a
world-famous scientist or engineer. But he became an intelligence officer.
- How did you meet
him? Please don’t say that it was on the instructions from the Center.
- We met while we were
still at the Institute. We studied together at the Moscow Aviation Institute,
only I was in the second year and he was in the fourth. He was on the Komsomol
committee and was a Lenin fellowship recipient, so all my girlfriends were in
love with him. But we didn’t come across each other until February 29, 1968 (I will
never forget that day).
So, on the 29th, I headed
to the dining room with my girlfriends and he was standing in the corridor with
a friend (who I am still in contact with, his dacha is near ours). And he said
to his friend: “If that girl over there turns around now, she will become my
wife.” That was me and I did turn around. He ran up to me and said: “Can I
invite you to the movies?” “Sure!” I said. The next day we went skiing
together, and he proposed to me.
- On the second day
after meeting you?
- Yes. I laughed so hard;
I took it as a joke. He then asked me: “Do you like the music of [Camille] Saint-Saens?”
Of course, I loved it because he wrote “The Swan”! After that, we went to all
the violin concerts. We even had a subscription. Viktor [Vitaly] himself played
the violin extremely well (by the way, he graduated from a music school). A
year later, in May, we registered our marriage at the newly built Wedding
Palace named after [Alexander] Griboyedov. They say that getting married in May
means a boring marriage. God grant that others are bored as much as we were! We
never really parted for a single day. There was operational travel, of course,
but we were always in touch, that is, mentally, spiritually, we were always together.
- And how did a
student, who was also a violinist, get into intelligence work?
- First, it was one of
his friends who was hired. Then my husband asked this friend to help him getting
a job. A week before our wedding, I was visiting Vitaly (he lived in a tiny apartment
in the very center of Moscow with his aunt, who was from the famous
Rimsky-Korsakov family). And so, he went to see me off to the dormitory. We
went under the arch, and Vitaly suddenly became very serious: “Wait, I have
something very important to tell you. I am going to work for the intelligence
service. I made a firm decision. Do you agree to stay with me now that you know
it?” I answered: “Yes, of course!” You see, he immediately grew 20 times in my
eyes. We were such romantics in love with our country. We grew up watching the film
The Exploits of an Intelligence Officer [1947]. Later I learned
that the prototype of the protagonist was an illegal intelligence officer
[Nikolay] Kuznetsov. The Spanish woman with the codename Patria, that is,
Africa de las Heras, worked with him (they were in the same partisan
detachment). Many years later, she became my language teacher.
As you have already
guessed, the intelligence service hired my husband first, and I followed him.
A Handkerchief on the Phone
and A Ready-Made Stock of Jokes
- Tell us how the legendary
Spanish woman [Africa de las Heras] taught you.
- I remember that
after we had passed an exam, our handler said: “Tomorrow you will meet a real
Spanish woman and she will be your language coach.” I spent the whole night looking
at the mirror, picking up an outfit to wear and watching my facial expressions
when I pronounced foreign words. I was terribly worried.
And so, I rang the
doorbell of her apartment, Patria [Africa] opened and, without any greeting,
asked: “Does it smell good?” I was confused. What did it mean? Was it a password?
I told her that I was glad to meet her in Spanish. But she repeated: “Does it smell
good?” It turned out that she had made a pizza: she kneaded the dough herself,
she put tomatoes on top and mixed the sauce with basil and garlic. Of course,
the smell from all these ingredients was strong. I sat down at the table,
somewhat disappointed by the first impression I made, and she smiled: “Okay.
Now let’s speak Spanish.”
Patria liked us so
much right away that she let us spend nights at her place. The next morning,
other students would come by, and we would leave quietly.
I often walked around
Moscow with her. She quickly realized that I loved art, and there was a
bookstore “Druzhba” on Gorky Street where the descendants of the Spaniards who
came to Moscow after the Civil War worked. And she would say: “Come, we’ll buy
you some books.” You see, you can’t just learn Spanish. You need to know the
culture, the art. And Patria taught me all this. She knew how to draw really
well and sometimes she would say: “Let’s draw a still life together.” Generally
speaking, she was my guide into the world of art.
- Have you formally
studied art history?
- I did so later when
I was already abroad.
- Did Patria teach you
any strictly intelligence techniques?
- Yes, of course! And
above all, she taught us to pay attention to details. “For instance, you get on
the train,” she would say. “And there you meet…” And she told us how to behave
in different situations. You see, if it hadn’t been for her, and if I hadn’t
had that training, I don’t know what would have happened to me. For example, once
I was on the train (it was in Europe) and a conductor came up to me and said:
“When are you going to have lunch? There is surprise for you in the dining
car.” And [when I went there, I found] the girls of the same nationality as I
was according to my passport sitting at my table. Of course, they could expose
me, but I retained my cool and everything went fine.
Or once when my
husband and I arrived in a certain country, we went to a Spanish restaurant, we
sat there and chatted with the owner. He asked: “Who are you? Where are you from?”
We answered, of course. And then he said: “Oh! The police chief of the city
where you are from is coming for lunch. You will be happy to meet him.” What
could we do? But we were prepared for such situations, we knew a lot of jokes
that can be told to relax the tension. And then the love for the arts, the knowledge
of music and painting would always rescue us. It worked wonders, especially
with people who were of interest to our service.
- What else did Africa
de las Heras teach you?
- For example, when you
were staying at the hotel and you had to be woken up at a certain time, let’s
say 6 o'clock in the morning (there were no cell phones then), she advised: “When
you enter the hotel room, put a handkerchief on the phone right away. So, when you
are suddenly woken up in the morning, you won’t say “Hello” or something like
that in Russian.” That handkerchief would serve as a reminder.
In a certain country,
I met a woman who introduced me to her friends, and I stayed with them for a
while. And I learned so much from them that nobody could ever doubt that I was
from that country. I polished the language and learned everything about their
customs and culture. But, on the very first night, I said to them unthinkingly
“good night” in Russian. I immediately froze. They answered me: “Buenos noches.”
That is, they did not understand that I said it in Russian. “Buenos noches” and
“good night” in Russian sound quite similar. Perhaps it may even be necessary
to make such mistakes once, so that one does not repeat them ever again.
The best Student of
the Ballerina Alonso
- Is it true that you trained
to be a ballerina?
- Yes, from the 1st to
the 10th grade, I went to a ballet school. I loved ballet very much. And when I
was in Cuba, I was lucky to be present at the meeting of two great ballerinas:
Galina Ulanova and Alicia Alonso. All this took place within the framework of
the Party congress (I also met Fidel Castro there).
- And who were you
then according to the cover story?
- We were supposed to
be Russian students who came to Cuba on a cultural exchange. Naturally, in
fact, we were on a serious intelligence mission.
As for the meeting
between Ulanova and Alonso, Ulanova said to me: “Tamarochka, have you stopped ballet
dancing long time ago?” I said: “How do you know?” “Well, I can see it in the
way you walk.” I was present during their conversation; they spoke French and I
translated for them. The conversation was very interesting. Alonso already had
poor eyesight and danced with some difficulty. But she knew all the ballet scenarios
of the world by heart. Once she fell on the stage, but she was able to get her
bearings quickly. At this meeting, Alonso said that she had a school in Brazil
and talked about her students there. I remembered this and later used it for my
cover story.
- Did you say you were
a ballerina?
- Kind of. I said that
I studied at Alonso’s Brazilian ballet school. Many years later, the Cuban
ballet was on the tour in the country I lived in, and my daughter and I went to
see the performance. After the performance, my friend told me: “I can take you
to a buffet table where your teacher Alonso will be. Do you want to meet her
again?” Well, what could I say? “Of
course, I do.” And so, she took me to Alonso and said to her: “Your student Ana-Maria.
Do you recognize her?” I felt ready to deal with any outcome. But Alonso ‘recognized’
me and hugged me saying: “This was my favorite student.” My daughter, who was
standing nearby, was absolutely delighted! After all, her mother met her
legendary ballet teacher again.
- Did you come up with
the name Ana- Maria yourself?
- No. This name was
assigned to me. In general, I shouldn’t really say what my cover name was, but
it was very common in the country where we lived. Half of the women there have
that name, so I think I can say it publicly.
I knew that Alonso really
had a student named Annushka. I made inquiries about her ballet school... Well,
when she recognized me, the whole district was filled with excitement: “Anna
met her teacher Alonso again.”
More than “17 Moments
of Spring”
- Does luck play a
role in the intelligence profession?
- Yes, of course. Once
I was already pregnant, we were riding on a bus. An elderly woman got on. My
husband jumped up, gave her his hand, and she sat down next to me. Afterwards,
she invited us to her home. We became good friends. She treated us with such
love! Then when we left that country, she wrote letters to us and kept inviting
us to visit. She thus became my husband’s aunt in our cover story, and no one had
any suspicions whatsoever. She always signed her letters with “your aunt.” My
children were sure that she was our aunt. We sent her photographs and gifts and
she responded in kind. You see how important she was for our cover story! And
there have been a lot of lucky instances like that. And not just “seventeen
moments” [a reference to the Soviet TV series], but many more over the years. I
sometimes wondered what would have happened if we had not taken advantage of
that situation. The intelligence officer has no right to overlook anything; he
must try to use everything that comes his way. The whole country depends on
him.
- Were you ever
homesick?
- Yes, of course. If a
Soviet circus or theater came on tour, we were always among the first to get
the tickets. I remember that when [Yury] Kuklachev came with his cat theater, I
took my daughter to see it. How happy she was! And she had no idea that both
Kuklachev and his cats came from her historical homeland and that she herself
was a Russian girl.
Once we were standing
on a bridge and a steamer was sailing with the flag of the USSR. We heard
Russian language. Those were such happy moments! We were spellbound. And after
that, we set to work with even more motivation. Because we understood what a
great country we were working for.
- I would like to know
more about your work. Did your husband collect most of the information?
- Yes, he was the team
leader, and I was his assistant. But a lot of information came through me as
well. And we always recruited together.
- Did you work against
the countries in which you lived?
- No, we collected information
about their neighbors. Of course, we were mostly interested in political and
economic information, which our country needed very much. And if something more
technical was needed, my husband’s education was of great help. He was a very
good mathematician. He graduated from several universities while we were abroad.
He had his own business. Then he took up a high post in the government. He was
even offered to become the president.
- Really?
- Well, it’s sounds funny,
but it’s true. Had he been allowed [by the Center] to run as a candidate, he
certainly would have won.
- Did you return to
the homeland after the USSR already ceased to exist?
- Yes. And I remember how
shocked we were. We returned to a completely different country. But we continued
to work. In 1996, my husband obtained information about the terrorist attacks
being planned in Moscow.
- Did this information
help to prevent them?
- Yes, I think so. It
was not by chance that this information came to him. My husband was a man of genius.
He was born to be an intelligence officer. How people were drawn to him, how he
was respected, how he worked with his agents, and so on – he was such a master
craftsman. That is how he obtained information about anything that could harm
our country.
- Have you and your
husband ever been betrayed?
- No. Because they [the
Center] took great care of us and didn’t let anyone near us, and because we
ourselves always checked everything. The most important thing for us was to do
everything we can, to come back, and remain undiscovered. Not all intelligence
officers succeed in that, and some are betrayed. But it’s always easier to work
in pairs. When men work alone, it is very difficult on them. The woman reminds them
about the things to be checked, about the fact that you always need to be on
the lookout, she intuits difficult situations with a sixth sense, she relieves
tension with a smile. This must be in the female intelligence officer’s blood,
otherwise you put at risk not only yourself, but also your work and your
country! And nobody has a right to do this.
And now, when I teach
new generations of intelligence officers, I always say: “We are not dead heroes,
like [Nikolay] Kuznetsov, we are still alive and we can still pass on a lot of
things to you.” I cannot understand how it is possible to speak badly about our
homeland or to call our people “cattle.” I get very angry. I don’t agree with
everything that is going on and I don’t like everything I see, but we have only
one homeland. And how many are all too willing to break it up, to tear off a
piece here and a piece there, to demean it? I cannot listen when our homeland
is being demeaned and treated rudely, but some seem to be happy about it. I
cannot accept this.
After returning to
Russia, I saw the film “The White Sun of the Desert” [1970]. I think that the
astronauts loved this film because of that great phrase: “It’s a shame that
this is happening to our country.” The things that are going on are sometimes
very insulting to our country. And I would like to ask those who do these
things: “Why are you offending your homeland?”
