David Cornwell wrote The Spy Who Came in from the Cold at the age of thirty, while working as an intelligence officer in the guise of a junior diplomat at the British Embassy in Bonn. It was his second book and, out of necessity, he signed it with a pseudonym: John Le Carré. The short novel was a literary sensation that contributed to defining the spy fiction genre. Unlike Ian Fleming’s glamorous action hero James Bond, Le Carré’s spies were aging misanthropes who held terse conversations in shabby front rooms. Its conspiratorial tone and the jargon suggested that the author had uncomfortable insights into the real world of espionage.
AT THE WALL
The book begins at a Berlin Wall checkpoint in the early 1960s. Alec Leamas, a British spy, awaits his informer Karl Riemeck, who is escaping from the East. The atmosphere is tense and hostile:
“In front of him the road and to either side the Wall, a dirty, ugly thing of breeze blocks and strands of barbed wire, lit with cheap yellow light, like the backdrop for a concentration camp. East and west of the Wall lay the unrestored part of Berlin, a half world of ruin, drawn in two dimensions, crags of war.”
“Di fronte a lui c’erano la strada e, sui due lati, il Muro, un brutto affare di blocchi di cemento e filo spinato, illuminato da una squallida luce gialla; una scena da campo di concentramento, insomma. A est e ovest del Muro si stendeva la parte non ricostruita di Berlino, un tracciato in doppia dimensione, una terra di nessuno.”
Things are not as they should be. The car that arrives first contains Riemeck’s girlfriend, while he approaches some distance behind on a bicycle. Somehow compromised by the woman he loves, Riemeck is shot dead by East German guards. This sets the cynical message of the book: that love and trust will kill you in the Cold War world.
THE TRICK
Back in London, we learn more about Leamas. He is a veteran secret agent working for MI6, referred to as “The Circus”. The director of the agency is known as Control. He is an academic type whose long convoluted discourses irritate Leamas, yet at the heart of his arguments is a pitiless assumption that any method, however unethical, is justified by the results.
“I would say that since the war, our methods – ours and those of the opposition – have become much the same. I mean, you can’t be less ruthless than the opposition simply because your government’s policy is benevolent, can you now?”
“A me pare che dopo la guerra i nostri metodi – i nostri e quelli dell’avversario – siano diventati molto simili. In altre parole, non possiamo essere meno spietati dell’avversario semplicemente perché la politica del nostro governo è benevola, le pare?”
Leamas is told to go undercover in an operation to get rid of a notorious enemy official called Mundt, a former Nazi working for the East German secret service. To attract the opposition, Leamas poses as a destitute alcoholic who has become a liability to the service he once worked for. His performance works, and he is recruited by Soviet spies. But it becomes clear that the role Leamas is playing is not that different from the reality; he lives a life of deception to the point of self-deception.
“Aware of the overwhelming temptations which assail a man permanently isolated in his deceit, Leamas resorted to the course which armed him best; even when he was alone, he compelled himself to live with the personality he assumed.”
“Consapevole delle gravissime tentazioni che assalgono chi è perennemente isolato nel proprio inganno, lui aveva scelto il sistema che lo armava meglio; anche quando era solo si costringeva a vivere con la personalità che aveva assunto.”
A CONSPIRACY OF SPIES
While undercover, something unexpected happens. Leamas meets a young woman called Liz, who, he is amused to find, is a member of the British Communist Party. For Leamas, ideology does not matter. He describes a spy as a mercenary who acts out of self-interest and on orders.
“What do you think spies are: priests, saints and martyrs? They’re a squalid procession of vain fools, traitors, too, yes; pansies, sadists and drunkards, people who play cowboys and Indians to brighten their rotten lives. Do you think they sit like monks in London balancing the rights and wrongs?“
“Cosa credi che siano le spie? Santi, martiri, preti? Sono una squallida processione di sciocchi vanesi, traditori, sissignore, invertiti, sadici e ubriaconi, gente che gioca a ladri e poliziotti per ravvivare la propria vita squallida. Credi che se ne stiano a Londra a soppesare come monaci il bene e il male?”
However, Liz’s compassion and hope remind Leamas of the moral values that make him human.
INTO THE EAST
Leamas seemingly defects, travelling to East Germany where he is met by a Jewish man called Fiedler who interrogates him for information about MI6. To Leamas’ surprise, the men bond, united in their cause to bring down Mundt, who Fiedler suspects of being a double agent working for the British. This appears to be the bluff planned by London.
ONE LAW
Mundt, however, moves first, arresting Fiedler. There is a court case, where it is uncertain who is on trial. Fiedler provides the evidence against Mundt, and Leamas is interrogated by both sides; but there is another shock when Liz appears, brought in by Mundt to discredit Leamas. He is at first horrified, and then it dawns on him what exactly is going on.
“‘They used us,’ Leamas replied pitilessly. ‘They cheated us both because it was necessary [...] There’s only one law in this game.’“
“«Ci hanno adoperati» rispose lui, spietato. «Ci hanno ingannato tutt’e due perché era necessario. [...] C’è una sola legge in questo gioco»”
The book made such an impact that a film, starring Richard Burton, was released within two years. It triggered an extraordinary career for Le Carré; now in his late eighties, he continues to produce bestsellers on topical themes that rage against an ignorant and dangerous establishment. In January, the writer won the Olof Palme prize for his “contribution to democracy” and gave the $100,000 prize money to the NGO Doctors Without Borders.