This fine study tackles the British use of open source intelligence, which (aside from the top-secret Enigma decrypts) formed the primary basis of knowledge of life in Eastern Europe during the Second World War. Since Prime Minister Churchill had stopped all covert intelligence gathering inside the USSR, a rather naïve gesture of goodwill towards Stalin, information had to be gleaned from neutral and German occupation newspapers. For the Baltic region, articles provided by the Stockholm Press Reading Bureau were processed at the Foreign Research and Press Service's Baltic States Section and later the Foreign Office Research Department. Using archival documents from these agencies, Wheatley convincingly argues that open source intelligence made a difference for policy decisions. By providing the British leadership with detailed special studies, the desk warriors “made an important contribution” to the war effort (199), offering an accurate picture of the German occupation policies in the Reichskommissariat Ostland, which otherwise would have remained a “black hole” for British leaders (6). Contemporary internal evaluations concede that the newspapers they analyzed rarely contained any spectacular revelations but provided “a remarkably revealing and cohesive picture of conditions in occupied territories” (194).
In general, the men and women staffing the Foreign Research and Press Service came from solid academic backgrounds and were especially adroit in digesting and analyzing the output of foreign press outlets. Headed by historian Arnold Toynbee and backed by Foreign Secretary Anthony Eden, the service “flourished” from the time of the Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union (51). Toynbee was eager to avoid the post-1919 mistakes of making strategic decisions without adequate historical knowledge. In the spotlight of Wheatley's study is Elizabeth Pares, the daughter of Bernard Pares, the director of the School of Slavonic and East European Studies. Her father had been head of the service's Russian Section. A noted Russophile, Pares senior had irritated the Foreign Office with his pro-Soviet views during the winter war with Finland and was replaced as the head of the service's Russian Section in March 1940. But his daughter stayed on to become the leading analyst on the Baltic region. Pares and her staff submitted valuable reports that provided the basis for decision making and postwar policies towards the USSR. Her boss Toynbee must have been satisfied with the objective and unbiased tenor of her reports.
Wheatley underscores that open source intelligence in the East acquired great significance only because Britain had decided to limit its human intelligence activities in the region. There was only a single—botched—Special Operations Executive operation in the Baltic region, aptly code-named BLUNDERHEAD. In other countries, the Secret Intelligence Service and Special Operations Executive functions pushed the newspaper analysis sections into the background. But the Baltic States, recently annexed against their will into the USSR, became the contested space of Soviet and Nazi expansionism. With their fate somewhat in the public eye, and with embassies in London and Washington still de jure recognized, the region justified special attention from London. From 1941, studies on the economy, fiscal and banking policy, and German population policy outlined the major issues in the Ostland. Analysts reported on German authorities recruiting local auxiliaries in Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. These reports allow for an interesting glimpse of life in occupied Europe. Open source intelligence became London's “window into the East.” Although the Foreign Office customers varied in their appreciation of the reports—from “stupendously dull” to “very useful”—the careful reading of the German press and neutral newspapers furnished the analysts with remarkably accurate and precise information (90). Covering topics such as personalities, control of the press, transport, and communications, Pares's reports provided an exhaustive picture of affairs in Northeastern Europe.
In addition to newspaper sources, the Foreign Research and Press Service enhanced reports with memoranda from Baltic underground groups, offering additional insight into Allied knowledge of the Holocaust. For example, in mid-1942, the service concluded that the Nazis had murdered 170,000 Jews in Lithuania (157). Indeed, Ultra decrypts of German police communications had, by this time, given Whitehall a good idea of the “Holocaust by bullets.” But Wheatley's study suggests that good open source intelligence was reaching similar conclusions within the space of weeks, at a fraction of the expense (179).
Interestingly, the number of Ostland studies decreased from the end of 1943 as it became clear that Britain would no longer be challenging postwar Soviet influence in the region (113). Publicly, Churchill referred all these matters to a postwar peace conference. But internally, the British leadership acquiesced in the Soviet reoccupation of the Baltic region. Therefore, the government was no longer interested and declined to answer or acknowledge protest notes from Baltic representatives. Wheatley outlines the contribution of Foreign Office Research Department to the struggle to prepare for the postwar period. The initial reports underscored the devastation suffered by the USSR and concluded that Moscow would not constitute a threat for the next five years (185). However, other voices, in particular the chiefs of staff, soon disagreed, considering the Soviets to be “the greatest potential danger we have ever faced” (189). Soviet actions on the ground in 1945–46 provided more fuel to the fire of the chiefs' school of thought.
With this study Wheatley delivers an interesting and valuable insight into open source intelligence during the Second World War. His book is a welcome contribution to our understanding of intelligence and the relationship between open source and human intelligence.
