Acid Dreams
The Complete Social History of LSD: The CIA, The Sixties, and Beyond
Authors: Martin A. Lee, Bruce Shlain
Introduction:
Authors: Martin A. Lee, Bruce Shlain
Introduction:
Whose Worlds Are These?
By Andrei Codrescu
In June 1967 the Candyman burst through the door of my pad on Avenue C on New
York's Lower East Side. He always burst through the door because that was his style. He could barely contain himself. He dropped his mirrored Peruvian bag on the
kitchen table and exclaimed: "Just for you! Czech acid!" The Candyman always had
some new kind of acid. That month I had already sampled Window Pane and
Sunshine. I didn't know if my system could handle another extended flight to the far
reaches. But this Czech acid was different. For one thing, it revealed to me that the
entire molecular and sub molecular structure of the universe was in fact composed of
tiny sickles and hammers. Billions and billions of tiny sickles and hammers
shimmered in the beauteous symmetry of the material world. I always thought of
this particular "commie trip" as a rather private experience brought about by my
having been born and raised in Communist Romania, where sickles and hammers
were ubiquitous and unavoidable.
I did not doubt what I had seen, but I did doubt whether there was such a thing as
Czech acid for the simple reason that Czechoslovakia, like Romania, was a
monochromatic world. It seemed clear that if acid had existed in Eastern Europe it
would have brought about the collapse of communism there, just as it was bringing
about the downfall of a certain kind of dour-faced, simple-minded America. And at
that time it didn't look like communism was anywhere near collapse. Well, I was
wrong. Reading this extraordinary, superbly researched, suspenseful history of LSD, I find, on page 115, that: "In September 1965 Michael Hollingshead returned to his
native London armed with hundreds of copies of the updated Book of the Dead and
five thousand doses of LSD (which he procured from Czech government laboratories
in Prague)." And communism did collapse, though not right then, and acid did have
quite a bit to do with it. Charter 77, the Czech human rights organization, was
founded by Vaclav Havel in defense of the Plastic People of the Universe, a
psychedelic band inspired by the Velvet Underground. Havel himself was in New York
in 1968, listening to the Velvets and dreaming, no doubt, of a way out of Cold War
ideology.
This tiny revelation is but a parenthetical remark in a story full of surprises, many of
which are profoundly unsettling. The drug that connected so many of us to the
organic mystery of a vastly alive universe turns out to have been, at least in the
beginning, a secret C.I.A project to find a truth serum. It's frightening to think that
C.I.A spooks have used LSD with electroshock and torture to get information out of
prisoners. It's even more frightening that they have used it themselves to little
positive effect. Or perhaps not. It's ironic and still scary to think that the C.I.A tried to
control the LSD experiment even though hundreds of thousands were turning on in
the heyday of the sixties. Neither the ironies nor the chilling implications stop here. The authors have plowed through thousands of pages of declassified intelligence
material to reveal a complex tissue of connections between secret government
agencies and the academic world on the one hand, and between the Utopian hopes
of a generation and the machinations of those same agencies on the other. It's a
riveting story that makes the most paranoid and outlandish theories of the sixties
seem insufficiently paranoid.
At the same time, in a most persuasive and closely argued way, this sharply
documented chronicle tells the story of the fantastic characters of acid: Captain Al
Hubbard, Aldous Huxley, Timothy Leary, Owsley, Art Kleps, Ken Kesey, and many, many more. One is quickly immersed in the vibrant collective aura of the times, which, in spite of the C.I.A and army intelligence, managed to change America
forever. The undeniably metaphysical window that LSD opened for so many of us
may have unwittingly been opened by those whose interests lay in keeping it shut. It
may well be that, seeing their mistake, they have been endeavoring to close it ever
since. But the fact is that the brilliant glimpse of a living cosmos did pour through for
a while, and it resulted in an unprecedented vision of a different world. One could
debate forever the question of how much of what the drug did for us was contingent
on the peculiar conditions of that time. The opening, however, was real.
The usefulness of Acid Dreams goes beyond nostalgia. In researching the effect of
LSD on the psychology, sociology, and politics of the sixties, the authors have given
a context to the mythos and poetry that now permeate almost every aspect of high
and low American culture. For believers in capital C Conspiracy this book should
prove a rich mine for reflection. For those, like myself, who believe that conspiracy
and control are games that vanish once one ceases to believe in them, this book
stands as a much-needed corrective. To history buffs, this is fascinating history. Best
of all, this is a thriller about the great mystery of how we of a certain generation got
to be who we are.
December 4, 1991
Prologue
October 1977.
Thousands of people jammed the auditorium at the University of California in Santa
Cruz. Those who were unable to gain admittance stood outside and pressed their
faces against the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the visiting
dignitaries. An all-star lineup of poets, scientists, journalists, and media celebrities
had convened for the opening of a weekend conference entitled "LSD: A Generation
Later." Topping the bill was the man they call the "Father of the Psychedelic Age."
At seventy-one years of age Dr. Albert Hofmann seemed miscast in his role as hero
of such a gathering. His white, closely cropped hair and conservative attire
contrasted sharply with the motley appearance of his youthful admirers, who could
just as easily have turned out for a rock and roll concert or an anti-nuke rally. But as
he strode to the podium to deliver the evening's keynote address, Dr. Hoffman was
greeted by a long and thunderous standing ovation.
"You may be disappointed," he warned the audience. "You may have expected a
guru, but instead you meet just a chemist." Whereupon Hoffman launched into a
serious scientific discussion of the step-by-step process that led to the discovery of
LSD-25, the most potent mind drug known to science at the time. Occasionally he
flashed a diagram on the screen and expatiated on the molecular subtleties of
hallucinogenic drugs. While much of the technical data soared way above the heads
of his listeners, they seemed to love every minute of it.
Dr. Hofgfman first synthesized LSD (lysergic acid diethylamide) in 1938 while
investigating the chemical and pharmacological properties of ergot, a rye fungus rich
in medicinal alkaloids, for Sandoz Laboratories in Basel, Switzerland. At the time he
was searching for an analeptic compound (a circulatory stimulant), and LSD was the
twenty-fifth in a series of ergot derivatives he concocted; hence the designation LSD- 25. Preliminary studies on laboratory animals did not prove significant, and scientists
at Sandoz quickly lost interest in the drug. For the next five years the vial of LSD
gathered dust on the shelf, until the afternoon of April 16, 1943.
"I had a strange feeling," Hoffmann told the assembled masses, "that it would be
worthwhile to carry out more profound studies with this compound." In the course of
preparing a fresh batch of LSD he accidentally absorbed a small dose through his
fingertips, and soon he was overcome by "a remarkable but not unpleasant state of
intoxication characterized by an intense stimulation of the imagination and an
altered state of awareness of the world." A knowing chorus of laughter emanated
from the audience as Hoffman continued to read from his diary notes. "As I lay in a
dazed condition with eyes closed there surged up from me a succession of fantastic, rapidly changing imagery of a striking reality and depth, alternating with a vivid, kaleidoscopic play of colors. This condition gradually passed off after about three
hours."
Dr. Hoffman was baffled by his first unplanned excursion into the strange world of
LSD. He could not comprehend how this substance could have found its way into his
body in sufficient quantity to produce such extraordinary symptoms. In the interest
of science, he assured his audience, he decided to experiment on himself. Another
boisterous round of applause filled the auditorium.
On April 19, three days after his initial psychedelic voyage, Dr. Hofmann swallowed a
mere 250 micrograms (a millionth of an ounce), thinking that such a minuscule
amount would have negligible results. But he was in for a surprise. As he bicycled
home accompanied by his laboratory assistant, he realized the symptoms were much
stronger than before. "I had great difficulty in speaking coherently," he recounted. "My field of vision swayed before me, and objects appeared distorted like images in
curved mirrors. I had the impression of being unable to move from the spot, although my assistant told me afterwards that we had cycled at a good pace."
When Hoffman arrived home, he consulted a physician, who was ill equipped to deal
with what would later be called a "bad trip." Hoffman did not know if he'd taken a
fatal dose or if he'd be lost forever in the twisted corridors of inner space. For a while
he feared he was losing his mind: "Occasionally I felt as if I were out of my body . I
thought I had died. My 'ego' was suspended somewhere in space and I saw my body
lying dead on the sofa."
Somehow Hoffman summoned the courage to endure this mind-wrenching ordeal. As the trip wore on, his psychic condition began to improve, and eventually he was
able to explore the hallucinogenic terrain with a modicum of composure. He spent
the remaining hours absorbed in a synesthetic swoon, bearing witness as each sound
triggered a corresponding optical effect, and vice versa, until he fell into a fitful
sleep. The next morning he awoke feeling perfectly fine.
And so it was that Dr. Albert Hofmann made his fateful discovery. Right from the
start he sensed that LSD could be an important tool for studying how the mind
works, and he was pleased when the scientific community began to use the drug for
this purpose. But he did not anticipate that his "problem child," as he later referred
to LSD, would have such enormous social and cultural impact in the years to come. Nor could he have foreseen that one day he would be revered as a near-mythic
figure by a generation of acid enthusiasts.
"Dr. Hofmann," said Stephen Gaskin, leader of the largest counterculture commune
in America, "there are thousands of people on the Farm who feel they owe their lives
to you." Gaskin was among the guests invited to participate in a panel discussion on
the second day of the colloquium. Its purpose was to provide a forum for
counterculture veterans to reflect back upon the halcyon days of the psychedelic
movement, which had reached a peak a decade earlier during the infamous Summer
of Love, and assess what had since come to pass. Poet Allen Ginsberg likened the
event to a "class reunion." He decided to do some homework before joining his fellow
acid valedictorians, so he took some LSD on the plane flight to the West Coast. While
under the influence of the psychedelic, he began to ponder the disclosures that had
recently surfaced in the news media concerning the C.l.A's use of LSD as a mind
control weapon. The possibility that an espionage organization might have promoted
the widespread use of LSD was disturbing to Ginsberg, who had been an outspoken
advocate of psychedelics during the 1960's. He grabbed a pen and started jotting
down some high-altitude thoughts. "Am I, Allen Ginsberg, the product of one of the
C.l.A's lamentable, ill-advised, or triumphantly successful experiments in mind
control?" Had the C.I.A, "by conscious plan or inadvertent Pandora's Box, let loose the
whole LSD Fad on the U.S. & the World?"
Ginsberg raised the C.I.A issue during the conference, but few seemed to take the
matter seriously. "The LSD movement was started by the C.I.A," quipped Timothy
Leary with a wide grin on his face. "I wouldn't be here now without the foresight of
the C.I.A scientists." The one-time Pied Piper of the flower children was in top form,
laughing and joking with reporters, as though he hadn't been chased halfway around
the world by US narcotics police and spent the last few years in prison. "It was no
accident," Leary mused. "It was all planned and scripted by the Central Intelligence, and I'm all in favor of Central Intelligence."
A jovial mood prevailed throughout much of the panel discussion. Old comrades who
had not seen each other for a long time swapped tales of acid glory and reminisced
about the wild and unforgettable escapades of yesteryear. "As I look at my
colleagues and myself," said Richard Alpert, one of Leary's original cohorts at
Harvard University in the early 1960's, "I see we have proceeded just as we wished
to, despite all conditions. I feel that what we are doing today is partly demonstrating
that we are not psychotic!" Alpert went on to declare that he didn't care if he ever
took LSD again but that he appreciated what his hundreds of trips had taught him
and hoped there would be a more favorable climate for serious LSD research in the
near future.
Alpert's sentiments were echoed by many of the panelists, who called on the
government to reconsider its restrictive policies so that scientists and psychologists
could resume studying the drug. There were frequent testimonials to the
contributions LSD made to science and society. Acid was praised as a boon to
psychotherapy, an enhancer of creativity, a religious sacrament, and a liberator of
the human spirit. Dr. Ralph Metzner, the third member of the Harvard triumvirate, suggested that the appearance of LSD constituted nothing less than a turning point
in human evolution. It was no coincidence, he maintained, that Dr. Hofmann
discovered the effects of LSD shortly after the first nuclear chain reaction was
achieved by the Manhattan Project. His remarks seemed to imply that LSD was some
sort of divine antidote to the nuclear curse and that humanity must pay heed to the
psychedelic revelation if it was to alter its self-destructive course and avert a major
catastrophe.
Author Richard Ashley elaborated on the theme of acid as a chemical messiah. As far
as he was concerned, LSD provided the most effective means of short-circuiting the
mental straitjacket that society imposes on its members. A worldwide police state
was a virtual certainty, Ashley predicted, unless more people used psychedelics to
raise their consciousness and resist the ominous specter of thought control.
Others were somewhat more cautious in speculating upon the role of hallucinogenic
drugs in advanced industrial society. "LSD came along before our culture was ready
for it," asserted Dr. Stanley Krippner, a leading parapsychologist who once directed
the Maimonides Dream Laboratory in New York. "I think we're still not ready for it. We haven't used it for its greatest potential. Psychedelic substances have been used
very wisely in primitive cultures for spiritual and healing purposes. Our culture does
not have this framework. We don't have the closeness to God, the closeness to
nature, the shamanistic outlook. We've lost all that."
By the time the conference drew to a close, over thirty speakers had rendered their
verdicts about LSD and the so-called psychedelic revolution. While it was clear that
everyone had been deeply affected by the drug experience and the social movement
it inspired, there was no overall consensus as to what it all meant. Each person had
his or her ideas about why things happened the way they did and what the future
might portend. Some felt that LSD arrived on the scene just in the nick of time, others saw it as a premature discovery, and there were a few who thought it might
already be too late. If that wasn't enough to thoroughly confuse the audience, John
Lilly, the dolphin scientist, urged his listeners to ignore everything they heard from
their elders and make their own discoveries. Ginsberg seconded the motion in his
concluding remarks. "We must disentangle ourselves from past suppositions," he
counseled. "The words 'psychedelic revolution' are part of a past created largely by
media images. We need to throw out the past images."
Less than a month before the Santa Cruz convention, LSD was the main topic at
another well-attended gathering. The setting on this occasion was an ornate Senate
hearing room on Capitol Hill. The television cameras were ready to roll as Ted
Kennedy, chairman of the Senate Subcommittee on Health and Scientific Research, strolled toward the lectern flanked by a few of his aides. During the next two days he
would attempt to nail down the elusive details of Operation MK-ULTRA, the principal
CIA program involving the development of chemical and biological agents during the
Cold War.
In his opening statement Kennedy told a large audience that he hoped these
hearings would "close the book on this chapter of the C.l.A's life." He then proceeded
to question a group of former C.I.A employees about the Agency's testing of LSD and
other drugs on unwitting American citizens. These activities were considered so
sensitive that only a handful of people within the C.I.A even knew about them. A
previously classified document explained why the program was shrouded in secrecy: "The knowledge that the Agency is engaging in unethical and illicit activities would
have serious repercussions in political and diplomatic circles and would be
detrimental to the accomplishment of its mission."
Although most of the testimony had been rehearsed earlier when witnesses met with
a Kennedy staff member, the senator from Massachusetts still managed to feign a
sense of astonishment when David Rhodes, formerly a C.I.A psychologist, recounted
an ill-fated LSD experiment at a C.I.A safe house in the San Francisco Bay area. He
described how unsuspecting individuals were recruited from local bars and lured to a
party where C.I.A operatives intended to release LSD in the form of an aerosol spray. But as Rhodes explained, the air currents in the room were unsuitable for dosing the
partygoers, so one of his cohorts snuck into the bathroom and tried the spray on
himself. The audience chuckled at the thought of grown men spritzing themselves
with government acid, while news reporters scribbled their renditions of the
headline-making tale.
Throughout the hearings the senators listened to one account after another of
bumbling and clumsiness on the part of Agency personnel. Phillip Goldman, a CIA
chemical warfare specialist, could have been describing a Three Stooges routine
when he told of an attempt to test a launching device for a stink bomb. The
projectile hit the window ledge, and the spooks held their noses. There were more
laughs when he mentioned a drug-coated swizzle stick that dissolved in a cocktail
but left a taste so bitter that no one would drink it. And so forth and so on. This kind
of buffoonery proved to be an effective public relations ploy for the CIA, deflecting
serious scrutiny from drug-related misdeeds. By stressing ineptitude the Agency
conveyed an all too human air. After all, why prosecute a bunch of regular Joes for
fooling around with chemicals they could never hope to understand?
The star witness on the second day of the hearings was the C.l.A's chief sorcerer- scientist. Dr. Sidney Gottlieb, who ran the MK-ULTRA program. Gottlieb, a slight man
with short gray hair and a clubfoot, agreed to testify only after receiving a grant of
immunity from criminal prosecution. His testimony before the Senate subcommittee
marked the first public appearance of this shadowy figure since he left the Agency in
1973. Actually his appearance was "semi-public." Because he suffered from a heart
condition, Gottlieb was allowed to speak with the senators in a small antechamber
while everyone else listened to the proceedings over a public address system.
The purpose of Operation MK-ULTRA and related programs, Gottlieb explained, was
"to investigate whether and how it was possible to modify an individual's behavior by
covert means." When asked to elaborate on what the C.I.A learned from this research, Gottlieb was afflicted by a sudden loss of memory, as if he were under the influence
of one of his own amnesia drugs. However, he did confirm earlier reports that
prostitutes were used in the safe house experiments to spike the drinks of unlucky
customers while C.I.A operatives observed, photographed, and recorded the action.
When asked to justify this activity, Gottlieb resorted to the familiar Cold War refrain
that had been invoked repeatedly throughout the hearings by other witnesses. The
original impetus for the C.l.A's drug programs, he maintained, stemmed from concern
about the aggressive use of behavior-altering techniques against the US by its
enemies. Gottlieb claimed there was evidence (which he never shared with the
senators) that the Soviets and the Red Chinese might have been mucking about with
LSD in the early 1950's. This, he explained, had grave implications for our national
security.
At the close of the hearings Kennedy summed up the surreptitious LSD tests by
declaring, "These activities are part of history, not the current practice of the C.I.A." And that was as far as it went. The senators seemed eager to get the whole show
over with, even though many issues were far from resolved. Later it was revealed
that some of the witnesses conferred among themselves, agreeing to limit their
testimony to the minimum degree necessary to satisfy the committee. As Dr. Gottlieb admitted, "The bottom line on this whole business has not yet been written."
Shortly after the Senate forum, a Washington attorney gave us a tip about how to
gain access to a special reading room that housed documents pertaining to Operation
MK-ULTRA and other C.I.A mind control projects. The documents had recently been
declassified as a result of a Freedom of Information request by researcher John
Marks. Located on the bottom floor of the Hyatt Regency Hotel in Rosslyn, Virginia, the reading room was smoke-filled and crowded with journalists working on
deadlines, scouring through a heap of papers as fast as their fingers could turn the
pages. We were not bound by such constraints, and we decided to examine the files
at an unhurried pace.
Reading through the intelligence records was both exciting and frustrating. Each
stack of heavily censored reports contained a hodge-podge of data, much of which
seemed trivial. There was no rhyme or reason to their arrangement: financial
records, inventory lists, in-house gossip, and letters of recommendation were
randomly interspersed with minutes of top-secret meetings and other tantalizing
morsels.
We dug in for the long haul, intent on examining every scrap of information related
to the C.l.A's behavior modification programs. Our visits to the reading room became
a weekly ritual, and soon we expanded our investigation to include army, navy, and
air force documents as well. During the next six months we reviewed approximately
twenty thousand pages of previously classified memoranda. We began to think of
ourselves as archeologists rather than muck-rakers, trying to unearth remnants of a
lost history buried underneath layers of secrecy.
In the course of our inquiry we uncovered CIA documents describing experiments in
sensory deprivation, sleep teaching, ESP, subliminal projection, electronic brain
stimulation, and many other methods that might have applications for behavior
modification. One project was designed to turn people into programmed assassins
who would kill on automatic command. Another document mentioned "hypnotically induced
anxieties" and "induced pain as a form of physical and psychological
control." There were repeated references to exotic drugs and biological agents that
caused "headache clusters," uncontrollable twitching or drooling, or a lobotomy-like
stupor. Deadly chemicals were concocted for the sole purpose of inducing a heart
attack or cancer without leaving a clue as to the actual source of the disease. CIA
specialists also studied the effects of magnetic fields, ultrasonic vibrations, and other
forms of radiant energy on the brain. As one CIA doctor put it, "We lived in a never- never land of 'eyes only' memos and unceasing experimentation."
As it turns out, nearly every drug that appeared on the black market during the
1960's marijuana, cocaine, heroin, PCP, amayinitrate, mushrooms, DMT, barbiturates, laughing gas, speed, and many others had previously been
scrutinized, tested, and in some cases refined by C.I.A and army scientists. But of all
the techniques explored by the Agency in its multimillion-dollar twenty-five-year
quest to conquer the human mind, none received as much attention or was
embraced with such enthusiasm as LSD-25. For a time C.I.A personnel were
completely infatuated with the hallucinogen. Those who first tested LSD in the early
1950's were convinced that it would revolutionize the cloak-and-dagger trade.
As we studied the documents more closely, certain shapes and patterns came alive
to us. We began to get a sense of the internal dynamics of the ClA's secret LSD
program and how it evolved over the years. The story that emerged was far more
complex and rich in detail than the disconnected smattering of information that had
surfaced in various press reports and government probes. We were able to
understand what the spies were looking for when they first got into LSD, what
happened during the initial phase of experimentation, how their attitude changed as
they tested the drug on themselves and their associates, and how it was ultimately
used in covert operations.
The central irony of LSD is that it has been used both as a weapon and a sacrament, a mind control drug and a mind-expanding chemical. Each of these possibilities
generated a unique history: a covert history, on the one hand, rooted in C.I.A and
military experimentation with hallucinogens, and a grassroots history of the drug
counterculture that exploded into prominence in the 1960s. At key points the two
histories converge and overlap, forming an interface between the C.l.A's secret drug
programs and the rise and fall of the psychedelic movement.
The LSD story is inseparable from the cherished hopes and shattered illusions of the
sixties generation. In many ways it provides a key for understanding what happened
during that turbulent era, when political and cultural revolution erupted with full fury. And yet, as the decade drew to a close, the youth movement suddenly collapsed and
bottomed out, leaving a trail of unanswered questions in its wake. Only by examining
both sides of the psychedelic saga of the C.I.A's mind control program and the drug
subculture can we grasp the true nature of LSD-25 and discern what effect this
powerful chemical agent had on the social upheavals of the 1960's
Part One:
The Roots of Psychedelia
1
In The Beginning There Was Madness
The Truth Seekers
In the spring of 1942 General William "Wild Bill" Donovan, chief of the Office of
Strategic Services (O.S.S), the C.l.A's wartime predecessor, assembled a half-dozen
prestigious American scientists and asked them to undertake a top-secret research
program. Their mission, Donovan explained, was to develop a speech-inducing drug
for use in intelligence interrogations. He insisted that the need for such a weapon
was so acute as to warrant any and every attempt to find it.
The use of drugs by secret agents had long been a part of cloak-and-dagger folklore, but this would be the first concerted attempt on the part of an American espionage
organization to modify human behavior through chemical means. "We were not
afraid to try things that had never been done before," asserted Donovan, who was
known for his freewheeling and unconventional approach to the spy trade. The O.S.S
chief pressed his associates to come up with a substance that could break down the
psychological defenses of enemy spies and P.O.W's, thereby causing an uninhibited
disclosure of classified information. Such a drug would also be useful for screening
O.S.S personnel in order to identify German sympathizers, double agents, and
potential misfits.
Dr. Windfred Overhulser(L), superintendent of Saint Elizabeth's Hospital in Washington, DC, was appointed chairman of the research committee. Other members included Dr. Edward Strecker, then president of the American Psychiatric Association, and Harry
J. Anslinger(R), head of the Federal Bureau of Narcotics. The committee surveyed and
rejected numerous drugs, including alcohol, barbiturates, and caffeine. Peyote and
scopolamine were also tested, but the visions produced by these substances
interfered with the interrogation process. Eventually marijuana was chosen as the
most likely candidate for a speech-inducing agent.
O.S.S scientists created a highly potent extract of cannabis, and through a process
known as esterification a clear and viscous liquid was obtained. The final product had
no color, odor, or taste. It would be nearly impossible to detect when administered
surreptitiously, which is exactly what the spies intended to do. "There is no reason to
believe that any other nation or group is familiar with the preparation of this
particular drug," stated a once classified O.S.S document. Henceforth the O.S.S
referred to the marijuana extract as "TD" a rather transparent cover for "Truth
Drug."
Various ways of administering TD were tried on witting and unwitting subjects. O.S.S
operatives found that the medicated goo could "be injected into any type of food, such as mashed potatoes, butter, salad dressing, or in such things as candy." Another scheme relied on using facial tissues impregnated with the drug. But these
methods had their drawbacks. What if someone had a particularly ravenous
appetite? Too much TD could knock a subject out and render him useless for
interrogation. The O.S.S eventually determined that the best approach involved the
use of a hypodermic syringe to inject a diluted TD solution into a cigarette or cigar. After smoking such an item, the subject would get suitably stoned, at which point a
skillful interrogator would move in and try to get him to spill the beans.
The effects of TD were described in an O.S.S report: "TD appears to relax all
inhibitions and to deaden the areas of the brain which govern an individual's
discretion and caution. It accentuates the senses and makes manifest any strong
characteristics of the individual. Sexual inhibitions are lowered, and the sense of
humor is accentuated to the point where any statement or situation can become
extremely funny to the subject. On the other hand, a person's unpleasant
characteristics may also be heightened. It may be stated that, generally speaking, the reaction will be one of great loquacity and hilarity."
*
* This was a rather mild and playful assessment of the effects of marijuana compared to the public
rantings of Harry Anslinger, the narcotics chief who orchestrated an unrelenting media campaign against "the killer weed.
After testing TD on themselves, their associates, and US military personnel, O.S.S
agents utilized the drug operationally, although on a limited basis. The results were
mixed. In certain instances TD subjects felt a driving necessity "to discuss
psychologically charged topics. Whatever the individual is trying to withhold will be
forced to the top of his subconscious mind." But there were also those who
experienced "toxic reactions" better known in latter-day lingo as "bummers." One
unwitting doper became irritable and threatening and complained of feeling like he
was "two different people." The peculiar nature of his symptoms precluded any
attempt to question him.
That was how it went, from one extreme to the other. At times TD seemed to
stimulate "a rush of talk"; on other occasions people got paranoid and didn't say a
word. The lack of consistency proved to be a major stumbling block, and "Donovan's
dreamers," as his enthusiastic O.S.S staffers have been called, reluctantly weaned
themselves from their reefer madness. A handwritten comment in the margins of an
O.S.S document summed up their stoned escapades: "The drug defies all but the most
expert and searching analysis, and for all practical purposes can be considered
beyond analysis."
After the war, the CIA and the military picked up where the O.S.S had left off in the
secret search for a truth serum. The navy took the lead when it initiated Project
CHATTER in 1947, the same year the CIA was formed. Described as an "offensive" program, CHATTER was supposed to devise means of obtaining information from
people independent of their volition but without physical duress. Toward this end Dr. Charles Savage conducted experiments with mescaline (a semi-synthetic extract of
the peyote cactus that produces hallucinations similar to those caused by LSD) at the
Naval Medical Research Institute in Bethesda, Maryland. But these studies, which
involved animal as well as human subjects, did not yield an effective truth serum, and CHATTER was terminated in 1953.
The navy became interested in mescaline as an interrogation agent when American
investigators learned of mind control experiments carried out by Nazi doctors at the
Dachau concentration camp during World War II. After administering the
hallucinogen to thirty prisoners, the Nazis concluded that it was "impossible to
impose one's will on another person as in hypnosis even when the strongest dose of
mescaline had been given." But the drug still afforded certain advantages to SS
interrogators, who were consistently able to draw "even the most intimate secrets
from the (subject] when questions were cleverly put." Not surprisingly, "sentiments
of hatred and revenge were exposed in every case."
The mescaline experiments at Dachau were described in a lengthy report by the US
Naval Technical Mission, which swept across Europe in search of every scrap of
industrial material and scientific data that could be garnered from the fallen Reich. This mission set the stage for the wholesale importation of more than six hundred
top Nazi scientists under the auspices of Project Paperclip, which the CIA supervised
during the early years of the Cold War. Among those who emigrated to the US in
such a fashion was Dr. Hubertus Strughold, the German scientist whose chief
subordinates (Dr. Sigmund Ruff and Dr. Sigmund Rascher) were directly involved in
"aviation medicine" experiments at Dachau, which included the mescaline studies.* Despite recurring allegations that he sanctioned medical atrocities during the war, Strughold settled in Texas and became an important figure in America's space
program. After Wernher von Braun, he was the top Nazi scientist employed by the
American government, and he was subsequently hailed by NASA as the "father of
space medicine."
* Strughold's subordinates injected Dachau inmates with gasoline, crushed them to death in high-altitude
pressure chambers, shot them so that potential blood coagulants could be tested on their wounds, forced
them to stand naked in subfreezing temperatures or immersed them in tubs of ice water to see how long
it would take before they died. As Charles R. Allen, Jr., author of From Hitler to Uncle Sam: How American
Intelligence Used Nazi War Criminals, stated in an article on Strughold, "There was a clear pattern to the
various experiments with poison, gas, deliberate infestation of victims with malaria, typhus and other virulencies causing instant or prolonged anguishing to death. Whether the tests concerned high-altitude,
freezing or the potability of sea water; or the shooting of 'volunteers' with gas bullets of the patent purpose
of the entire body of tests conducted at Dachau was to enhance the effectiveness of Hitler's criminal warfare against humanity."
After the war an Allied tribunal convened at Nuremberg sentenced a number of Nazi doctors to death for
their role in medical atrocities at Dachau and other concentration camps. The judges at Nuremberg
subsequently put forward a code of ethics for scientific research, which stipulated that full voluntary
consent must be obtained from all research subjects and experiments should yield positive results for the
benefit of society that could not be obtained in any other way.
Although Dr. Strughold escaped prosecution, his name later appeared on a master list of "Reported Nazi
War Criminals Residing in the United States" compiled by the Immigration and Naturalization Service. He
currently lives in San Antonio, Texas.
The CIA, meanwhile, had launched an intensive research effort geared toward
developing "special" interrogation techniques. Two methods showed promise in the
late 1940S. The first involved narcohypnosis, in which a CIA psychiatrist attempted
to induce a trance state after administering a mild sedative. A second technique
involved a combination of two different drugs with contradictory effects. A heavy
dose of barbiturates was given to knock the subject out, and then he received an
injection of a stimulant, usually some type of amphetamine. As he started to come
out of a somnambulant state, he would reach a certain ineffable point prior to
becoming fully conscious. Described in CIA documents as "the twilight zone," this
groggy condition was considered optimal for interrogation.
CIA doctors attempted to extend the stupor limbo as long as possible. In order to
maintain the delicate balance between consciousness and unconsciousness, an
intravenous hookup was inserted in both the subject's arms. One set of works
contained a downer, the other an upper (the classic "goofball" effect); with a mere
flick of the finger an interrogator could regulate the flow of chemicals. The idea was
to produce a "push",a sudden outpouring of thoughts, emotions, confidences, and
whatnot. Along this line various combinations were tested: Seconal and Dexedrine;
Pentothal and Desoxyn; and depending on the whim of the spy in charge, some
marijuana (the old O.S.S stand-by, which the CIA referred to as "sugar") might be
thrown in for good measure.
The goofball approach was not a precision science. There were no strictly prescribed
rules or operating procedures regarding what drugs should be employed in a given
situation. The CIA interrogators were left to their own devices, and a certain degree
of recklessness was perhaps inevitable. In one case, a group of CIA experts hastily
drafted a memo after reviewing a report prepared by one of the Agency's special
interrogation teams. The medical consultants pointed out that "the amounts of
scopolamine administered were extremely heavy." They also noted that the best
results were obtained when two or at most three different chemicals were used in a
session. In this case, however, heavy dosages of scopolamine were administered
along with thiamine, sodium luminal, atropine sulfate, sodium pentothal and caffeine
sulfate. One of the ClA's professional consultants in "H" techniques also questioned
why hypnosis was attempted "after a long and continuous use of chemicals, after the
subject had vomited, and after apparently a maximum tolerance point had been
reached with the chemicals." Everyone who read the interrogation report agreed that
hypnosis was useless, if not impossible, under such conditions. Nevertheless, the
memo concluded by reaffirming that "no criticism is intended whatsoever" and that "the choice of operating weapons" must be left to the agents in the field.
Despite the potential hazards and tenuousness of the procedure as a whole, special
interrogations were strongly endorsed by Agency officials. A CIA document dated
November 26, 1951, announced, "We're now convinced that we can maintain a
subject in a controlled state for a much longer period of time than we heretofore had
believed possible. Furthermore, we feel that by use of certain chemicals or
combinations, we can, in a very high percentage of cases, produce relevant
information." Although these techniques were still considered experimental, the
prevailing opinion among members of the special interrogation teams was that there
had been enough experiments "to justify giving the green light to operational use of
the techniques." "There will be many a failure," a CIA scientist acknowledged, but he
was quick to stress that "every success with this method will be pure gravy."
*
* Obtaining information was only one aspect of the interrogation process. Even when CIA officers were
able to loosen a subject's tongue, other problems remained, such as how to insure that he would not remember the events that transpired during his stint in the twilight zone. "If by some means we could
create a perfect and thoroughly controlled amnesia," a CIA agent declared, "the matter would be
simplified, but amnesia is not certain and cannot be guaranteed."
Certain drugs were known to produce amnesia for a matter of hours or days, but this was not sufficient. The CIA also had access to chemicals capable of causing permanent brain damage, but long-term amnesia
drugs that would be completely reversible over a twelve-to-eighteen-month period were not available.
This was quite an inconvenience as far as the national security experts were concerned. The question of what to do with subjects of special interrogation sessionsóthe "disposal problem"óprovoked a heated
debate inside the Company. The immediate objective was to find a way of holding them "in maximum
custody until either operations have progressed to the point where their knowledge is no longer highly
sensitive, or the knowledge they possess in general will be of no use to the enemy."
One possibility suggested in CIA documents was to render a person incoherent through psychological
and/or pharmacological attack and then have him placed in a mental institution. An unspecified number of
subjects were committed involuntarily to insane asylums, including some who were described in CIA
memoranda as mentally sound. (This practice, which began in the early 1950S and continued at least until
the mid-1960s, invites obvious comparisons to the incarceration of Russian dissidents in psychiatric
hospitals because of their political views.) Another option involved "termination with extreme prejudice"
(CIA lingo for assassination), but this was hardly an ideal solution in all situations.
In an effort to expand its research program the CIA contacted academics and other
outside experts who specialized in areas of mutual interest. Liaison was established
with the research sections of police departments and criminology laboratories;
medical practitioners, professional hypnotists, and psychiatrists were brought on as
paid consultants; and various branches of the military provided assistance. Oftentimes these arrangements involved a cover to conceal the ClA's interest in
behavior modification. With the bureaucratic apparatus already in place, the ClA's
mind control efforts were integrated into a single project under the code name
BLUEBIRD. Due to the extreme sensitivity of the project, the usual channels of
authorization were bypassed; instead of going through the Projects Review
Committee, the proposal for BLUEBIRD was submitted directly to CIA director Roscoe
Hillenkoetter, who authorized the use of unvouchered funds to finance the hush-hush
undertaking.* With this seal of approval the ClA's first major drug testing program
was officially hatched. BLUEBIRD was to remain a carefully guarded secret, for if
word of the program leaked out it would have been a great embarrassment and a
detriment to American intelligence. As one CIA document put it, BLUEBIRD material
was "not fit for public consumption"
*In one CIA document the question of disposal was discussed under the heading "LOBOTOMY and Related
Operations." A number of individuals who were fully cognizant of the disposal problem suggested that
lobotomy "might be the answer or at least a partial solution." They argued that "lobotomy would create a
person 'who no longer cared,' who had lost all initiative and drive, whose allegiance to ideal or motivating
factors no longer existed, and who would probably have, if not complete amnesia, at least a fuzzy or spotty memory for recent and past events." They also pointed out "that certain lobotomy types of
operations were simple, quickly performed and not too dangerous."
Along this line a group of CIA scientists entertained the possibility of using an "icepick" lobotomy to render an individual harmless "from a security point of view." A memo dated February 7, 1952, notes that on
numerous occasions after using electroshock to produce anesthesia, an unidentified surgeon in the
Washington, DC, area performed an operation that involved destroying brain tissue by piercing the skull
just above the eye with a fine surgical icepick. This type of psychosurgery had certain advantages, in that
it resulted in "nervous confusional and amnesia effects" without leaving a "tell-tale scar." The CIA also
experimented with brain surgery via UHF sound waves and at one point during the early 1950S attempted
to create a microwave "amnesia beam" that would destroy memory neurons.
Not all CIA officials, however, favored using lobotomy as a disposal technique. Potential drawbacks were
cited: surgical risk was great, brain damage could be extensive, and such an operation, if faulty, could
produce a "vegetable." Moreover, if the enemy discovered that the CIA was mutilating people's brains for
the sake of national security, this information could be exploited as a propaganda weapon. Other CIA officials opposed lobotomy because it was blatantly inhumane and violated "all concepts of 'fair- play' and the American way of life and [thus] it could never be officially [emphasis added] sanctioned or supported." A CIA document dated March 3, 1952, states that while "the USSR and its satellites are
capable of any conceivable atrocity against human beings to attain what they think are their ends, we
should notówith our high regard for human lifeóuse these techniques unless by using them we save the
lives of our own people and the situation is highly critical to the nation's safety."
In the early 1950s, at least $100,000 was designated for a proposed research project geared toward
developing "neuro-surgical techniques for Agency interest." It is not known whether this research was
ever carried out.
From the outset the C.l.A's mind control program had an explicit domestic angle. A
memo dated July 13, 1951, described the Agency's mind-bending efforts as "broad
and comprehensive, involving both domestic and overseas activities, and taking into
consideration the programs and objectives of other departments, principally the
military services." BLUEBIRD activities were designed to create an "exploitable
alteration of personality" in selected individuals; specific targets included "potential
agents, defectors, refugees, POWs," and a vague category of "others." A number of
units within the CIA participated in this endeavor, including the Inspection and
Security Staff (the forerunner of the Office of Security), which assumed overall
responsibility for running the program and dispatching the special interrogation
teams. Colonel Sheffield Edwards, the chairman of the BLUEBIRD steering
committee, consistently pushed for a more reliable speech-inducing substance. By
the time BLUEBIRD evolved into Operation ARTICHOKE (the formal change in code
names occurred in August 1951), Security officials were still searching for the magic
technique the deus ex machina that would guarantee surefire results.
The whole concept of a truth drug was a bit far fetched to begin with. It presupposed
that there was a way to chemically bypass the mind's censor and turn the psyche
inside out, unleashing a profusion of buried secrets, and that surely some
approximation of "truth" would emerge amidst all the personal debris. In this respect
the C.l.A's quest resembled a skewed version of a familiar mythological theme from
which such images as the Philosopher's Stone and the Fountain of Youth derive that
through touching or ingesting something one can acquire wisdom, immortality, or
eternal peace. It is more than a bit ironic that the biblical inscription on the marble
wall of the main lobby at CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia, reads, "And ye shall
know the Truth and the Truth shall set you free."
The freewheeling atmosphere that prevailed during the C.l.A's early years encouraged
an "anything goes" attitude among researchers associated with the mind control
program. This was before the Agency's bureaucratic arteries began to harden, and
those who participated in Operation ARTICHOKE were intent on leaving no stone
unturned in an effort to deliver the ultimate truth drug. A number of agents were
sent on fact-finding missions to all comers of the globe to procure samples of rare
herbs and botanicals. The results of one such trip were recorded in a heavily deleted
document entitled "Exploration of Potential Plant Resources in the Caribbean
Region." Among the numerous items mentioned in this report, a few were
particularly intriguing. A plant called a "stupid bush," characterized by the CIA as a
psychogenic agent and a pernicious weed, was said to proliferate in Puerto Rico and
Saint Thomas. Its effects were shrouded in mystery. An "information bush" was also
discovered. This shrub stumped CIA experts, who were at a loss to pin down its
properties. The "information bush" was listed as a psychogenic agent followed by a
lingering question mark. What type of information-prophetic or mundane might be
evoked by this unusual herb was unclear. Nor was it known whether the "information
bush" could be used as an antidote to the "stupid bush" or vice versa.
The CIA studied a veritable pharmacopoeia of drugs with the hope of achieving a
breakthrough. At one point during the early 1950's Uncle Sam's secret agents viewed
cocaine as a potential truth serum. "Cocaine's general effects have been somewhat
neglected," noted an astute researcher. Whereupon tests were conducted that
enabled the CIA to determine that the precious powder "will produce elation, talkativeness, etc." when administered by injection. "Larger doses," according to a
previously classified document, "may cause fearfulness and alarming
hallucinations." The document goes on to report that cocaine "counteracts the
catatonia of catatonic schizophrenics" and concludes with the recommendation that
the drug be studied further.
A number of cocaine derivatives were also investigated from an interrogation
standpoint. Procaine, a synthetic analogue, was tested on mental patients and the
results were intriguing. When injected into the frontal lobes of the brain through
trephine holes in the skull, the drug "produced free and spontaneous speech within
two days in mute schizophrenics." This procedure was rejected as "too surgical for
our use." Nevertheless, according to a CIA pharmacologist, "it is possible that such a
drug could be gotten into the general circulation of subject without surgery, hypodermic or feeding." He suggested a method known as iontophoresis, which
involves using an electric current to transfer the ions of a chosen medicament into
the tissues of the body.
The C.l.A's infatuation with cocaine was short-lived. It may have titillated the nostrils
of more than a few spies and produced some heady speculation, but after the initial
inspiration it was back to square one. Perhaps their expectations were too high for
any drug to accommodate. Or maybe a new approach to the problem was required.
The search for an effective interrogation technique eventually led to heroin. Not the
heroin that ex-Nazi pilots under CIA contract smuggled out of the Golden Triangle in
Southeast Asia on CIA proprietary airlines during the late 1940's and early 1950's;
nor the heroin that was pumped into America's black and brown ghettos after
passing through contraband networks controlled by mobsters who moonlighted as
CIA hitmen. The Agency's involvement in worldwide heroin traffic, which has been
well documented in The Politics of Heroin in Southeast Asia by Alfred McCoy, went
far beyond the scope of Operation ARTICHOKE, which was primarily concerned with
eliciting information from recalcitrant subjects. However, ARTICHOKE scientists did
see possible advantages in heroin as a mind control drug. According to a CIA
document dated April 26, 1952, heroin was "frequently used by police and
intelligence officers on a routine basis [emphasis added]." The cold turkey theory of
interrogation: CIA operatives determined that heroin and other habit-forming
substances "can be useful in reverse because of the stresses produced when they are
withdrawn from those who are addicted to their use."
Enter LSD
It was with the hope of finding the long-sought miracle drug that CIA investigators
first began to dabble with LSD-25 in the early 1950's. At the time very little was
known about the hallucinogen, even in scientific circles. Dr. Wemer Stoll, the son of
Sandoz president Arthur Stoll and a colleague of Albert Hermann's, was the first
person to investigate the psychological properties of LSD. The resuits of his study
were presented in the Swiss Archives of Neurology in 1947. Stoll reported that LSD
produced disturbances in perception, hallucinations, and acceleration in thinking;
moreover, the drug was found to blunt the usual suspiciousness of schizophrenic
patients. No unfavorable aftereffects were described. Two years later in the same
journal Stoll contributed a second report entitled "A New Hallucinatory Agent, Active
in Very Small Amounts."
The fact that LSD caused hallucinations should not have been a total surprise to the
scientific community. Sandoz first became interested in ergot, the natural source of
lysergic acid, because of numerous stories passed down through the ages. The rye
fungus had a mysterious and contradictory reputation. In China and parts of the
Mideast it was thought to possess medicinal qualities, and certain scholars believe
that it may have been used in sacred rites in ancient Greece. In other parts of
Europe, however, the same fungus was associated with the horrible malady known
as St. Anthony's Fire, which struck periodically like the plague. Medieval chronicles
tell of villages and towns where nearly everyone went mad for a few days after
ergot-diseased rye was unknowingly milled into flour and baked as bread. Men were
afflicted with gangrenous limbs that looked like blackened stumps, and pregnant
women miscarried. Even in modem times there have been reports of ergot-related
epidemics.*
* In 1951 hundreds of respectable citizens in Pont-Saint-Esprit, a small French village, went completely
berserk one evening. Some of the town's leading citizens jumped from windows into the Rhone. Others
ran through the streets screaming about being chased by lions, tigers, and "bandits with donkey ears." Many died, and those who survived suffered strange aftereffects for weeks. In his book The Day of St. Anthony's File, John C. Fuller attributes this bizarre outbreak to rye flour contaminated with ergot.
The CIA inherited this ambiguous legacy when it embraced LSD as a mind control
drug. An ARTICHOKE document dated October 21, 1951, indicates that acid was
tested initially as part of a pilot study of the effects of various chemicals "on the
conscious suppression of experimental or non-threat secrets." In addition to lysergic
acid this particular survey covered a wide range of substances, including morphine, ether, Benzedrine, ethyl alcohol, and mescaline. "There is no question," noted the
author of this report, "that drugs are already on hand (and new ones are being
produced) that can destroy integrity and make indiscreet the most dependable
individual." The report concluded by recommending that LSD be critically tested
"under threat conditions beyond the scope of civilian experimentation." POWs,
federal prisoners, and Security officers were mentioned as possible candidates for
these field experiments.
In another study designed to ascertain optimal dosage levels for interrogation
sessions, a CIA psychiatrist administered LSD to "at least twelve human subjects of
not too high mentality." At the outset the subjects were "told only that a new drug
was being tested and promised that nothing serious or dangerous would happen to
them. During the intoxication they realized something was happening, but were
never told exactly what." A dosage range of 100 to 150 micrograms was finally
selected, and the Agency proceeded to test the drug in mock interrogation trials.
Initial reports seemed promising. In one instance LSD was given to an officer who
had been instructed not to reveal "a significant military secret." When questioned, however, "he gave all the details of the secret and after the effects of the LSD had
worn off, the officer had no knowledge of revealing the information (complete
amnesia)." Favorable reports kept coming in, and when this phase of
experimentation was completed, the C.l.A's Office of Scientific Intelligence (O.S.I)
prepared a lengthy memorandum entitled "Potential New Agent for Unconventional
Warfare." LSD was said to be useful "for eliciting true and accurate statements from
subjects under its influence during interrogation." Moreover, the data on hand
suggested that LSD might help in reviving memories of past experiences.
It almost seemed too good to be true a drug that unearthed secrets buried deep in
the unconscious mind but also caused amnesia during the effective period. The
implications were downright astounding. Soon the entire CIA hierarchy was head
over heels as news of what appeared to be a major breakthrough sent shock waves
rippling through headquarters. (C. P. Snow once said, "The euphoria of secrecy goes
to the head.") For years they had searched, and now they were on the verge of
finding the Holy Grail of the cloak-and-dagger trade. As one CIA officer recalled, "We
had thought at first that this was the secret that was going to unlock the universe."
But the sense of elation did not last long. As the secret research progressed, the CIA
ran into problems. Eventually they came to recognize that LSD was not really a truth
serum in the classical sense. Accurate information could not always be obtained from
people under the influence of LSD because it induced a "marked anxiety and loss of
reality contact." Those who received unwitting doses experienced an intense
distortion of time, place, and body image, frequently culminating in full-blown
paranoid reactions. The bizarre hallucinations caused by the drug often proved more
of a hindrance than an aid to the interrogation process. There was always the risk,
for example, that an enemy spy who started to trip out would realize he'd been
drugged. This could make him overly suspicious and taciturn to the point of
clamming up entirely.
There were other pitfalls that made the situation even more precarious from an
interrogation standpoint. While anxiety was the predominant characteristic displayed
during LSD sessions, some people experienced delusions of grandeur and
omnipotence. An entire operation might backfire if someone had an ecstatic or
transcendental experience and became convinced that he could defy his
interrogators indefinitely. And then there was the question of amnesia, which was
not as cut-and-dried as first supposed. Everyone agreed that a person would
probably have a difficult time recalling exactly what happened while he was high on
LSD, but that didn't mean his mind would be completely blank. While the drug might
distort memory to some degree, it did not destroy it.
When CIA scientists tested a drug for speech-inducing purposes and found that it
didn't work, they usually put it aside and tried something else. But such was not the
case with LSD. Although early reports proved overoptimistic, the Agency was not
about to discard such a powerful and unusual substance simply because it did not
live up to its original expectations. They had to shift gears. A reassessment of the
strategic implications of LSD was necessary. If, strictly speaking, LSD was not a
reliable truth drug, then how else could it be used?
CIA researchers were intrigued by this new chemical, but they didn't quite know
what to make of it. LSD was significantly different from anything else they knew
about. "The most fascinating thing about it," a CIA psychologist recalled, "was that
such minute quantities had such a terrific effect." Mere micrograms could create
"serious mental confusion and render the mind temporarily susceptible to
suggestion." Moreover, the drug was colorless, odorless, and tasteless, and therefore
easily concealed in food and beverage. But it was hard to predict the response to
LSD. On certain occasions acid seemed to cause an uninhibited disclosure of
information, but oftentimes the overwhelming anxiety experienced by the subject
obstructed the interrogation process. And there were unexplainable mood swingsó
from total panic to boundless bliss-out. How could one drug produce such extreme
and contradictory reactions? It didn't make sense.
As research continued, the situation became even more perplexing. At one point a
group of Security officers did an about-face and suggested that acid might best be
employed as an anti-interrogation substance: "Since information obtained from a
person in a psychotic state would be unrealistic, bizarre, and extremely difficult to
assess, the self-administration of LSD-25, which is effective in minute doses, might
in special circumstances offer an operative temporary protection against
interrogation [emphasis added]."
This proposal was somewhat akin to a suicide pill scenario. Secret agents would be
equipped with micro-pellets of LSD to take on dangerous assignments. If they fell
into enemy hands and were about to be interrogated, they could pop a tab of acid as
a preventive measure and babble gibberish. Obviously this idea was impractical, but
it showed just how confused the ClA's top scientists were about LSD. First they
thought it was a truth serum, then a lie serum, and for a while they didn't know what
to think.
To make matters worse, there was a great deal of concern within the Agency that
the Soviets and the Red Chinese might also have designs on LSD as an espionage
weapon. A survey conducted by the Office of Scientific Intelligence noted that ergot
was a commercial product in numerous Eastern Bloc countries. The enigmatic fungus
also flourished in the Soviet Union, but Russian ergot had not yet appeared in foreign
markets. Could this mean the Soviets were hoarding their supplies? Since
information on the chemical structure of LSD was available in scientific journals as
early as 1947, the Russians might have been stockpiling raw ergot in order to
convert it into a mind control weapon. "Although no Soviet data are available on
LSD-25," the OSI study concluded, "it must be assumed that the scientists of the
USSR are thoroughly cognizant of the strategic importance of this powerful new drug
and are capable of producing it at any time."
Were the Russians really into acid? "I'm sure they were," asserted John Gittlinger, one of the C.l.A's leading psychologists during the Cold War, "but if you ask me to
prove it, I've never seen any direct proof of it."
* While hard evidence of a Soviet LSD
connection was lacking, the CIA wasn't about to take any chances. What would
happen, for example, if an American spy was caught and dosed by the Commies?
The CIA realized that an adversary intelligence service could employ LSD "to produce
anxiety or terror in medically unsophisticated subjects unable to distinguish druginduced
psychosis from actual insanity." The only way to be sure that an operative
would not freak out under such circumstances would be to give him a taste of LSD (a
mind control vaccine?) before he was sent on a sensitive overseas mission. Such a
person would know that the effects of the drug were transitory and would therefore
be in a better position to handle the experience. CIA documents actually refer to
agents who were familiar with LSD as "enlightened operatives."
* Internal CIA memorandum dispute the oft-repeated allegation that the Soviet Union and her satellites,
including Red China, were engaged in unorthodox methods of altering human behavior. According to a CIA
document dated January 14, 1953, "Apparently their major emphasis is on the development of specially trained
teams for obtaining information without the use of narcotics, hypnosis, or special mechanical
devices [emphasis added]." A memo issued the next day by the Ad Hoc Medical Study Group admitted
that "the present state of knowledge indicates little, if any, threat to National Security through 'special
interrogation' techniques or agents."
Along this line. Security officials proposed that LSD be administered to CIA trainee
volunteers. Such a procedure would clearly demonstrate to select individuals the
effects of hallucinogenic substances upon themselves and their associates. Furthermore, it would provide an opportunity to screen Agency personnel for "anxiety proneness"; those who couldn't pass the acid test would be excluded from
certain critical assignments. This suggestion was well received by the ARTICHOKE
steering committee, although the representative from the ClA's Medical Office felt
that the test should not be "confined merely to male volunteer trainee personnel, but
that it should be broadened to include all components of the Agency." According to a
CIA document dated November 19, 1953, the Project Committee "verbally concurred
in this recommendation."
During the next few years numerous CIA agents tried LSD. Some used the drug on
repeated occasions. How did their firsthand experience with acid affect their
personalities? How did it affect their attitude toward their workóparticularly those
who were directly involved in mind control research? What impact did it have on the
program as a whole?+
+ At the very least, one suspects that a firsthand encounter with LSD would have made the clandestine mentality more receptive to the possibility of ESP, subliminal perception, and other phenomena associated with altered states. The CIA ís interest in parapsychology dates back to the late 1940's. A handwritten memo of the period suggests that "hypnotists and telepathists" be contacted as professional consultants on an exploratory basis, but this proposal was initially rejected. It was not until 1952, after the CIA got heavily involved with LSD, that the Agency began funding ESP research.
While parapsychology has long been ridiculed by the scientific establishment, the CIA seriously entertained the notion that such phenomena might be highly significant for the spy trade. The Agency hypothesized that if a number of people in the US were found to have a high ESP capacity, their talent could be assigned to specific intelligence problems. In 1952 the CIA initiated an extensive program involving "the search for and development of exceptionally gifted individuals who can approximate perfect success in ESP performance." The Office of Security, which ran the ARTICHOKE project, was urged to follow "all leads on individuals reported to have true clairvoyant powers" so as to be able to subject their claims to "rigorous scientific investigation."
Along this line the CIA began infiltrating sÈances and occult gatherings. A memo dated April 9, 1953, refers to a domesticóand therefore illegalóoperation that required the "planting of a very specialized observer" at a sÈance in order to obtain "a broad surveillance of all individuals attending the meetings."
At the outset of the C.l.A's behavior control endeavors the main emphasis was on
speech-inducing drugs. But when acid entered the scene, the entire program
assumed a more aggressive posture. The ClA's turned-on strategists came to believe
that mind control techniques could be applied to a wide range of operations above
and beyond the strict category of "special interrogation." It was almost as if LSD
blew the Agency's collective mind-set or was it mind-rut? With acid acting as a
catalyst, the whole idea of what could be done with a drug or drugs in general, was
suddenly transformed. Soon a perfect compound was envisioned for every
conceivable circumstance: there would be smart shots, memory erasers, "anti
vitamins," knock-out drops, "aphrodisiacs for operational use," drugs that caused
"headache clusters" or uncontrollable twitching, drugs that could induce cancer, a
stroke or a heart attack without leaving a trace as to the source of the ailment. There were chemicals to make a drunk man sober and a sober man as drunk as a
fish. Even a "recruitment pill" was contemplated. What's more, according to a
document dated May 5, 1955, the CIA placed a high priority on the development of a
drug "which will produce 'pure euphoria' with no subsequent letdown."
This is not to suggest that the CIA had given up on LSD. On the contrary, after
grappling with the drug for a number of years, the Agency devised new methods of
interrogation based on the "far-out" possibilities of this mind-altering substance. When employed as a third-degree tactic, acid enabled the CIA to approach a hostile
subject with a great deal of leverage. CIA operatives realized that intense mental
confusion could be produced by deliberately attacking a person along psychological
lines. Of all the chemicals that caused mental derangement, none was as powerful as
LSD. Acid not only made people extremely anxious, it also broke down the character
defenses for handling anxiety. A skillful interrogator could exploit this vulnerability by
threatening to keep an unwitting subject in a tripped-out state indefinitely unless he
spilled the beans. This tactic often proved successful where others had failed. CIA
documents indicate that LSD was employed as an aid to interrogation on an
operational basis from the mid-1950's through the early 1960's.
The CIA also sought to develop techniques whereby the ESP powers of a group of psychics could be used
"to produce factual information that could not be obtained in any other way." If it were possible "to
identify the thought of another person several hundred miles away," a CIA scientist explained, "the
adaptation to the practical requirements for obtaining secret information should not give serious
difficulty." Moreover, "everything that adds anything to our understanding of what is taking place in ESP is
likely to give us advantage in the problem of use and control."
In a rather bizarre twist, during the late 1960s the CIA experimented with mediums in an effort to contact
(and debrief?) dead agents. These attempts, according to Victor Marchetti, a former high-ranking CIA
official, were part of a larger effort to harness psychic powers for various intelligence-related missions that
included utilizing clairvoyants to divine the intentions of the Kremlin leadership. Secret ESP research is still
being conducted, although CIA spokesmen refuse to comment on the nature of these experiments.
Laboratories of the State
When the CIA first became interested in LSD, only a handful of scientists in the
United States were engaged in hallucinogenic drug research. At the time there was
little private or public support for this relatively new field of experimental psychiatry, and no one had undertaken a systematic investigation of LSD. The C.l.A's mind control
specialists sensed a golden opportunity in the making. With a sizable treasure chest
at their disposal they were in a position to boost the careers of scientists whose skill
and expertise would be of maximum benefit to the CIA. Almost overnight a whole
new market for grants in LSD research sprang into existence as money started
pouring through ClA-linked conduits or "cutouts" such as the Geschickter Fund for
Medical Research, the Society for the Study of Human Ecology, and the Josiah Macy, Jr. Foundation.
Among those who benefited from the CIA's largesse was Dr. Max Rinkel,(L) the first
person to bring LSD to the United States. In 1949 Rinkel, a research psychiatrist, obtained a supply of LSD from Sandoz Pharmaceuticals in Switzerland and gave the
drug to his partner, Dr. Robert Hyde,(R) who took the first acid trip in the Western
Hemisphere. Rinkel and Hyde went on to organize an LSD study at the Boston
Psychopathic Institute, a pioneering mental health clinic affiliated with Harvard
University. They tested the drug on one hundred volunteers and reported the initial
findings in May 1950 (nearly three years before the CIA began funding their work) at
the annual meeting of the American Psychiatric Association. Rinkel announced that
LSD produced "a. transitory psychotic disturbance" in normal subjects. This was
highly significant, for it raised the possibility that mental disorders could be studied
objectively in a controlled experimental setting.
Rinkel's hypothesis was supported and expanded upon during the same forum by Dr. Paul Hoch, a prominent psychiatrist who would also proffer his services to the CIA in
the years ahead. Hoch reported that the symptoms produced by LSD, mescaline and
related drugs were similar to those of schizophrenia: intensity of color perception, hallucinations, depersonalization, intense anxiety, paranoia, and in some cases
catatonic manifestations. As Hoch put it, "LSD and Mescaline disorganize the psychic
integration of the individual." He believed that the medical profession was fortunate
to have access to these substances, for now it would be possible to reconstruct
temporary or "model" psychoses in the laboratory. LSD was considered an
exceptional research tool in that the subject could provide a detailed description of
his experience while he was under the influence of the drug. It was hoped that
careful analysis of these data would shed new light on schizophrenia and other
enigmatic mental diseases.
Hoch's landmark thesis that LSD was a "psychotomimetic" or "madness-mimicking" agent caused a sensation in scientific circles and led to several important and
stimulating theories regarding the biochemical basis of schizophrenia. This in turn
sparked an upsurge of interest in brain chemistry and opened new vistas in the field
of experimental psychiatry. In light of the extremely high potency of LSD, it seemed
completely plausible that infinitesimal traces of a psychoactive substance produced
through metabolic dysfunction by the human organism might cause psychotic
disturbances. Conversely, attempts to alleviate a "lysergic psychosis" might point the
way toward curing schizophrenia and other forms of mental illness.*
* While the miracle cure never panned out, it is worth noting that Thorazine was found to mollify an LSD
reaction and subsequently became a standard drug for controlling patients in mental asylums and prisons
As it turned out, the model psychosis concept dovetailed particularly well with the
secret schemes of the CIA, which also viewed LSD in terms of its ability to blow
minds and make people crazy. Thus it is not surprising that the CIA chose to invest
in men like Rinkel and Hoch. Most scientists were flattered by the government's
interest in their research, and they were eager to assist the CIA in its attempt to
unravel the riddle of LSD. This was, after all, the Cold War, and one did not have to
be a blue-ribbon hawk or a hard-liner to work in tandem with American intelligence.
In the early 1950's the CIA approached Dr. Nick Bercel, a psychiatrist who
maintained a private practice in Los Angeles. Bercel was one of the first people in the
United States to work with LSD, and the CIA asked him to consider a haunting
proposition. What would happen if the Russians put LSD in the water supply of a
large American city? A skillful saboteur could carry enough acid in his coat pocket to
turn an entire metropolis into a loony bin, assuming he found a way to distribute it
equally. In light of this frightening prospect, would Bercel render a patriotic service
by calculating exactly how much LSD would be required to contaminate the water
supply of Los Angeles? Bercel consented, and that evening he dissolved a tiny
amount of acid in a glass of tap water, only to discover that the chlorine neutralized
the drug. "Don't worry," he told his CIA contact, "it won't work."
The Agency took this as a mandate, and another version of LSD was eventually
concocted to overcome this drawback. A CIA document states accordingly, "If the
concept of contaminating a city's water supply seems, or in actual fact, is found to be
far-fetched (this is by no means certain), there is still the possibility of
contaminating, say, the water supply of a bomber base or, more easily still, that of a
battleship . Our current work contains the strong suggestion that LSD-25 will
produce hysteria (unaccountable laughing, anxiety, terror) . It requires little
imagination to realize what the consequences might be if a battleship's crew were so
affected."
The CIA never got in touch with Bercel again, but they monitored his research
reports in various medical journals. When Bercel gave LSD to spiders, they spun
perfectly symmetrical webs. Animal studies also showed that cats cringed before
untreated mice, and fish that normally swam close to the bottom of a water tank
hovered near the top. In another experiment Dr. Louis Joylon ("Jolly") West, chairman of the Department of Psychiatry at the University of Oklahoma, injected an
elephant with a massive dose of 300,000 micrograms. Dr. West, a CIA contract
employee and an avid believer in the notion that hallucinogens were
psychotomimetic agents, was trying to duplicate the periodic "rut" madness that
overtakes male elephants for about one week each year. But the animal did not
experience a model elephant psychosis; it just keeled over and remained in a
motionless stupor. In attempting to revive the elephant, West administered a
combination of drugs that ended up killing the poor beast.
Research on human subjects showed that LSD lodged primarily in the liver, spleen, and kidneys. Only a tiny amount (.01%) of the original dose entered the brain, and it
only remained there for twenty minutes. This was a most curious finding, as the
effect of LSD was not evident until the drug had disappeared entirely from the
central nervous system. Some scientists thought LSD might act as a trigger
mechanism, releasing or inhibiting a naturally occurring substance in the brain, but
no one could figure out exactly why the drug had such a dramatic effect on the mind.
Many other questions were in need of clarification. Could the drug be fatal? What
was the maximum dose? Were the effects constant, or were there variations
according to different personality types? Could the reaction be accentuated by
combining LSD with other chemicals? Was there an antidote? Some of these
questions overlapped with legitimate medical concerns, and researchers on CIA
stipends published unclassified versions of their work in prestigious scientific
periodicals. But these accounts omitted secret data given to the CIA on how LSD
affected "operationally pertinent categories" such as disturbance of memory, alteration of sex patterns, eliciting information, increasing suggestibility, and creating
emotional dependence.
The CIA was particularly interested in psychiatric reports suggesting that LSD could
break down familiar behavior patterns, for this raised the possibility of
reprogramming or brainwashing. If LSD temporarily altered a person's view of the
world and suspended his belief system, CIA doctors surmised, then perhaps Russian
spies could be cajoled into switching loyalties while they were tripping. The
brainwashing strategy was relatively simple: find the subject's weakest point (his
"squeaky board") and bear down on it. Use any combination or synthesis which
might "open the mind to the power of suggestion to a degree never hitherto
dreamed possible." LSD would be employed to provoke a reality shift, to break
someone down and tame him, to find a locus of anonymity and leave a mark there
forever.
To explore the feasibility of this approach, the Agency turned to Dr. Ewen Cameron, a respected psychiatrist who served as president of the Canadian, the American, and
the World Psychiatric Associations before his death in 1967. Cameron also directed
the Allain Memorial Institute at Montreal's McGill University, where he developed a
bizarre and unorthodox method for treating schizophrenia. With financial backing
from the CIA he tested his method on fifty-three patients at Allain. The so-called
treatment started with "sleep therapy," in which subjects were knocked out for
months at a time. The next phase, "depatterning," entailed massive electroshock and
frequent doses of LSD designed to wipe out past behavior patterns. Then Cameron
tried to recondition the mind through a technique known as "psychic driving." The
patients, once again heavily sedated, were confined to "sleep rooms" where tape recorded
messages played over and over from speakers under their pillows. Some
heard the same message a quarter of a million times.
Cameron's methods were later discredited, and the CIA grudgingly gave up on the
notion of LSD as a brainwashing technique. But that was little consolation to those
who served as guinea pigs for the ClA's secret mind control projects. Nine of
Cameron's former patients have sued the American government for $1,000,000
each, claiming that they are still suffering from the trauma they went through at
Allain. These people never agreed to participate in a scientific experimentóa fact
which reflects little credit on the CIA, even if Agency officials feared that the Soviets
were spurting ahead in the mind control race. The CIA violated the Nuremberg Code
for medical ethics by sponsoring experiments on unwitting subjects. Ironically, Dr. Cameron was a member of the Nuremberg tribunal that heard the case against Nazi
war criminals who committed atrocities during World War II.
Like the Nazi doctors at Dachau, the CIA victimized certain groups of people who
were unable to resist: prisoners, mental patients, foreigners, the terminally ill, sexual
deviants, ethnic minorities. One project took place at the Addiction Research Center
of the US Public Health Service Hospital in Lexington, Kentucky. Lexington was
ostensibly a place where heroin addicts could go to shake a habit, and although it
was officially a penitentiary, all the inmates were referred to as "patients." The
patients had their own way of referring to the doctors"hacks" or "croakers" who
patrolled the premises in military uniforms.
The patients at Lexington had no way of knowing that it was one of fifteen penal and
mental institutions utilized by the CIA in its super-secret drug development program. To conceal its role the Agency enlisted the aid of the navy and the National Institutes
of Mental Health (N.I.M.H), which served as conduits for channeling money to Dr. Harris Isbell, a gung-ho research scientist who remained on the CIA payroll for over
a decade. According to CIA documents the directors of NIMH and the National
Institutes of Health were fully cognizant of the Agency's "interest" in Isbell's work
and offered "full support and protection."
When the CIA came across a new drug (usually supplied by American pharmaceutical
firms) that needed testing, they frequently sent it over to their chief doctor at
Lexington, where an ample supply of captive guinea pigs was readily available. Over
eight hundred compounds were farmed out to Isbell, including LSD and a variety of
hallucinogens. It became an open secret among street junkies that if the supply got
tight, you could always commit yourself to Lexington, where heroin and morphine
were doled out as payment if you volunteered for Isbell's wacky drug experiments. (Small wonder that Lexington had a return rate of 90%.) Dr. Isbell, a longtime
member of the Food and Drug Administration's Advisory Committee on the Abuse of
Depressant and Stimulant Drugs, defended the volunteer system on the grounds that
there was no precedent at the time for offering inmates cash for their services.
CIA documents describe experiments conducted by Isbell in which certain patients nearly all black inmates were given LSD for more than seventy-five consecutive
days. In order to overcome tolerance to the hallucinogen, Isbell administered
"double, triple and quadruple doses." A report dated May 5, 1959, comments on an
experiment involving psilocybin (a semi-synthetic version of the magic mushroom). Subjects who ingested the drug became extremely anxious, although sometimes
there were periods of intense elation marked by "continuous gales of laughter." A
few patients felt that they "had become very large, or had shrunk to the size of
children. Their hands or feet did not seem to be their own and sometimes took on
the appearance of animal paws . They reported many fantasies or dreamlike states
in which they seemed to be elsewhere. Fantastic experiences, such as trips to the
moon or living in gorgeous castles, were occasionally reported."
Isbell concluded, "Despite these striking subjective experiences, the patients
remained oriented in time, place and person. In most instances, the patients did not
lose their insight but realized that the effects were due to the drug. Two of the nine
patients, however, did lose insight and felt that their experiences were caused by the
experimenters controlling their minds."
In addition to his role as a research scientist, Dr. Isbell served as a go-between for
the CIA in its attempt to obtain drug samples from European pharmaceutical
concerns which assumed they were providing "medicine" to a US Public Health
official. The CIA in turn acted as a research coordinator, passing information, tips, and leads to Isbell and its other contract employees so that they could keep abreast
of each other's progress; when a new discovery was made, the CIA would often ask
another researcher to conduct a follow-up study for confirmation. One scientist
whose work was coordinated with Isbell's in such a manner was Dr. Carl Pfeiffer, a
noted pharmacologist from Princeton who tested LSD on inmates at the federal
prison in Atlanta and the Bordentown Reformatory in New Jersey.
Isbell, Pfeiffer, Cameron, West, and Hoch all were part of a network of doctors and
scientists who gathered intelligence for the CIA. Through these scholar-informants
the Agency stayed on top of the latest developments within the "above ground" LSD
scene, which expanded rapidly during the Cold War. By the mid-1950's numerous
independent investigators had undertaken hallucinogenic drug studies, and the CIA
was determined not to let the slightest detail escape its grasp. In a communique dated May 26, 1954, the Agency ordered all domestic field offices in the United
States to monitor scientists engaged in LSD research. People of interest, the memo
explained, "will most probably be found in biochemistry departments of universities, mental hospitals, private psychiatric practice. We do ask that you remember their
importance and report their work when it comes to your attention."
The CIA also expended considerable effort to monitor the latest developments in LSD
research on a worldwide scale. Drug specialists funded by the Agency made periodic
trips to Europe to confer with scientists and representatives of various
pharmaceutical concerns, including, of course, Sandoz Laboratories. Initially the
Swiss firm provided LSD to investigators all over the world free of charge, in
exchange for full access to their research data. (CIA researchers did not comply with
this stipulation.) By 1953 Sandoz had decided to deal directly with the US Food and
Drug Administration (PDA), which assumed a supervisory role in distributing LSD to
American investigators from then on. It was a superb arrangement as far as the CIA
was concerned, for the FDA went out of its way to assist the secret drug program. With the FDA as its junior partner, the CIA not only had ready access to supplies of
LSD (which Sandoz marketed for a while under the brand name Delysid) but also
was able to keep a close eye on independent researchers in the United States.
The CIA would have been content to let the FDA act as an intermediary in its
dealings with Sandoz, but business as usual was suspended when the Agency
learned of an offer that could not be refused. Prompted by reports that large
quantities of the drug were suddenly available, top-level CIA officials authorized the
purchase of ten kilos of LSD from Sandoz at an estimated price of $240,000 enough
for a staggering one hundred million doses. A document dated November 16, 1953, characterized the pending transaction as a "risky operation," but CIA officials felt it
was necessary, if only to preclude any attempt the Communists might make to get
their hands on the drug. What the CIA intended to do with such an incredible stash
of acid was never made clear.
The CIA later found out that Sandoz had never produced LSD in quantities even
remotely resembling ten kilograms. Apparently only ten milligrams were for sale, but
a CIA contact in Switzerland mistook a kilogram, 1000 grams, for a milligram (.001
grams), which would explain the huge discrepancy. Nevertheless, Sandoz officials
were pleased by the CIAís interest in their product, and the two organizations struck
up a cooperative relationship. Arthur Stoll, president of Sandoz, agreed to keep the
CIA posted whenever new LSD was produced or a shipment was delivered to a
customer. Likewise, any information concerning LSD research behind the Iron
Curtain would be passed along confidentially.
But the CIA did not want to depend on a foreign company for supplies of a substance
considered vital to American security interests. The Agency asked the Eli Lilly
Company in Indianapolis to try to synthesize a batch of all-American acid. By mid- 1954 Lilly had succeeded in breaking the secret formula held by Sandoz. "This is a
closely guarded secret," a CIA document declared, "and should not be mentioned
generally." Scientists at Lilly assured the CIA that "in a matter of months LSD would
be available in tonnage quantities."
Midnight Climax
In a speech before the National Alumni Conference at Princeton University on April
10, 1953, newly appointed CIA director Allen Dulles lectured his audience on "how
sinister the battle for men's minds had become in Soviet hands." The human mind, Dulles warned, was a "malleable tool," and the Red Menace had secretly developed
"brain perversion techniques." Some of these methods were "so subtle and so
abhorrent to our way of life that we have recoiled from facing up to them." Dulles
continued, "The minds of selected individuals who are subjected to such treatment are deprived of the ability to state their own thoughts. Parrot-like, the individuals so
conditioned can merely repeat the thoughts which have been implanted in their
minds by suggestion from outside. In effect the brain becomes a phonograph
playing a disc put on its spindle by an outside genius over which it has no control."
Three days after delivering this address Dulles authorized Operation MK-ULTRA, the
C.l.A's major drug and mind control program during the Cold War. MK-ULTRA was the
brainchild of Richard Helms, a high-ranking member of the Clandestine Services
(otherwise known as the "dirty tricks department") who championed such methods
throughout his career as an intelligence officer. As Helms explained to Dulles when
he first proposed the MK-ULTRA project, "Aside from the offensive potential, the
development of a comprehensive capability in this field gives us a thorough
knowledge of the enemy's theoretical potential, thus enabling us to defend ourselves
against a foe who might not be as restrained in the use of these techniques as we
are."
The super secret MK-ULTRA program was run by a relatively small unit within the CIA
known as the Technical Services Staff (T.S.S). Originally established as a
supplementary funding mechanism to the ARTICHOKE project, MK-ULTRA quickly
grew into a mammoth undertaking that outflanked earlier mind control initiatives. For a while both the TSS and the Office of Security (which directed the ARTICHOKE
project) were engaged in parallel LSD tests, and a heated rivalry developed between
the two groups. Security officials were miffed because they had gotten into acid first
and then this new clique started cutting in on what the ARTICHOKE crowd considered
their rightful turf.
The internecine conflict grew to the point where the Office of Security decided to
have one of its people spy on the T.S.S. This set off a flurry of memos between the
Security informant and his superiors, who were dismayed when they learned that Dr. Sidney Gottlieb, the chemist who directed the MK-ULTRA program, had approved a
plan to give acid to unwitting American citizens. The Office of Security had never
attempted such a reckless gesture although it had its own idiosyncrasies;
ARTICHOKE operatives, for example, were attempting to have a hypnotized subject
kill someone while in a trance.
Whereas the Office of Security utilized LSD as an interrogation weapon, Dr. Gottlieb
had other ideas about what to do with the drug. Because the effects of LSD were
temporary (in contrast to the fatal nerve agents), Gottlieb saw important strategic
advantages for its use in covert operations. For instance, a surreptitious dose of LSD
might disrupt a person's thought process and cause him to act strangely or foolishly
in public. A CIA document notes that administering LSD "to high officials would be a
relatively simple matter and could have a significant effect at key meetings, speeches, etc." But Gottlieb realized there was a considerable difference between
testing LSD in a laboratory and using the drug in clandestine operations. In an effort
to bridge the gap, he and his TSS colleagues initiated a series of in-house
experiments designed to find out what would happen if LSD was given to someone in
a "normal" life setting without advance warning.
They approached the problem systematically, taking one step at a time, until they
reached a point where outsiders were zapped with no explanation whatsoever. First
everyone in Technical Services tried LSD. They tripped alone and in groups. A typical
experiment involved two people pairing off in a closed room where they observed
each other for hours at a time, took notes, and analyzed their experiences. As
Gottlieb later explained, "There was an extensive amount of self-experimentation for
the reason that we felt that a first hand knowledge of the subjective effects of these
drugs (was] important to those of us who were involved in the program."
When they finally learned the hallucinogenic ropes, so to speak, they agreed among
themselves to slip LSD into each other's drinks. The target never knew when his turn
would come, but as soon as the drug was ingested a TSS colleague would tell him so
he could make the necessary preparationsówhich usually meant taking the rest of
the day off. Initially the leaders of MK-ULTRA restricted the surprise acid tests to TSS
members, but when this phase had run its course they started dosing other Agency
personnel who had never tripped before. Nearly everyone was fair game, and
surprise acid trips became something of an occupational hazard among CIA
operatives. Such tests were considered necessary because foreknowledge would
prejudice the results of the experiment.
Indeed, things were getting a bit raucous down at headquarters. When Security
officials discovered what was going on, they began to have serious doubts about the
wisdom of the TSS game plan. Moral reservations were not paramount; it was more
a sense that the MK-ULTRA staff had become unhinged by the hallucinogen. The
Office of Security felt that the TSS should have exercised better judgment in dealing
with such a powerful and dangerous chemical. The straw that broke the camel's back
came when a Security informant got wind of a plan by a few TSS jokers to put LSD in
the punch served at the annual CIA Christmas office party. A Security memo dated
December 15, 1954, noted that acid could "produce serious insanity for periods of 8
to 18 hours and possibly for longer." The writer of this memo concluded indignantly
and unequivocally that he did "not recommend testing in the Christmas punch bowls
usually present at the Christmas office parties."
The purpose of these early acid tests was not to explore mystical realms or higher
states of consciousness. On the contrary, the TSS was trying to figure out how to
employ LSD in espionage operations. Nevertheless, there were times when CIA
agents found themselves propelled into a visionary world and they were deeply
moved by the experience. One MK-ULTRA veteran wept in front of his colleagues at
the end of his first trip. "I didn't want to leave it," he explained. "I felt I would be
going back to a place where I wouldn't be able to hold on to this kind of beauty." His
colleagues assumed he was having a bad trip and wrote a report stating that the
drug had made him psychotic.
Adverse reactions often occurred when people were given LSD on an impromptu
basis. On one occasion a CIA operative discovered he'd been dosed during his
morning coffee break. "He sort of knew he had it," a fellow-agent recalled, "but he
couldn't pull himself together. Somehow, when you know you've taken it, you start
the process of maintaining your composure. But this grabbed him before he was
aware, and it got away from him." Then he got away from them and fled across
Washington stoned out of his mind while they searched frantically for their missing
comrade. "He reported afterwards," the TSS man continued, "that every automobile
that came by was a terrible monster with fantastic eyes, out to get him personally. Each time a car passed he would huddle down against a parapet, terribly frightened. It was a real horror for him. I mean, it was hours of agony Ö like being in a dream
that never stops with someone chasing you."
Incidents such as these reaffirmed to the MK-ULTRA crew just how devastating a
weapon LSD could be. But this only made them more enthusiastic about the drug. They kept springing it on people in a manner reminiscent of the ritual hazing of
fraternity pledges. "It was just too damned informal," a TSS officer later said. "We
didn't know much. We were playing around in ignorance We were just naive about
what we were doing."
Such pranks claimed their first victim in November 1953, when a group of CIA and
army technicians gathered for a three-day work retreat at a remote hunting lodge in
the backwoods of Maryland. On the second day of the meeting Dr. Gottlieb spiked
the after-dinner cocktails with LSD. As the drug began to take effect, Gottlieb told
everyone that they had ingested a mind-altering chemical. By that time the group
had become boisterous with laughter and unable to carry on a coherent
conversation.
One man was not amused by the unexpected turn of events. Dr. Frank Olson, an
army scientist who specialized in biological warfare research, had never taken LSD
before, and he slid into a deep depression. His mood did not lighten when the
conference adjourned. Normally a gregarious family man, Olson returned home quiet
and withdrawn. When he went to work after the weekend, he asked his boss to fire
him because he had "messed up the experiment" during the retreat. Alarmed by his
erratic behavior, Olson's superiors contacted the CIA, which sent him to New York to
see Dr. Harold Abramson. A respected physician, Abramson taught at Columbia
University and was chief of the allergy clinic at Mount Sinai Hospital. He was also one
of the CIAís principal LSD researchers and a part-time consultant to the Army
Chemical Corps. While these were impressive credentials, Abramson was not a
trained psychiatrist, and it was this kind of counseling his patient desperately
needed.
For the next few weeks Olson confided his deepest fears to Abramson. He claimed
the CIA was putting something in his coffee to make him stay awake at night. He
said people were plotting against him and he heard voices at odd hours commanding
him to throw away his wallet which he did, even though it contained several non cashed checks. Dr. Abramson concluded that Olson was mired in "a psychotic
state with delusions of persecution" that had been "crystallized by the LSD
experience." Arrangements were made to move him to Chestnut Lodge, a sanitorium
in Rockville, Maryland, staffed by CLA-cleared psychiatrists. (Apparently other CIA
personnel who suffered from psychiatric disorders were enrolled in this institution.)
On his last evening in New York, Olson checked into a room at the Statler Hilton
along with a CIA agent assigned to watch him. And then, in the wee hours of the
morning, the troubled scientist plunged headlong through a closed window to his
death ten floors below.
The Olson suicide had immediate repercussions within the CIA. An elaborate cover- up erased clues to the actual circumstances leading up to his death. Olson's widow
was eventually given a government pension, and the full truth of what happened
would not be revealed for another twenty years. Meanwhile CIA director Allen Dulles
suspended the in-house testing program for a brief period while an internal
investigation was conducted. In the end, Gottlieb and his team received only a mildly
worded reprimand for exercising "bad judgment," but no records of the incident were
kept in their personnel files which would harm their future careers. The importance
of LSD eclipsed all other considerations, and the secret acid tests resumed.
Gottlieb was now ready to undertake the final and most daring phase of the MK- ULTRA program: LSD would be given to unwitting targets in real-life situations. But
who would actually do the dirty work? While looking through some old OSS files, Gottlieb discovered that marijuana had been tested on unsuspecting subjects in an
effort to develop a truth serum. These experiments had been organized by George
Hunter White, a tough, old-fashioned narcotics officer who ran a training school for
American spies during World War II. Perhaps White would be interested in testing
drugs for the CIA. As a matter of protocol Gottlieb first approached Harry Anslinger, chief of the Federal Narcotics Bureau. Anslinger was favorably disposed and agreed
to "lend" one of his top men to the CIA on a part-time basis.
Right from the start White had plenty of leeway in running his operations. He rented
an apartment in New York's Greenwich Village, and with funds supplied by the CIA
he transformed it into a safe house complete with two-way mirrors, surveillance
equipment, and the like. Posing as an artist and a seaman. White lured people back
to his pad and slipped them drugs. A clue as to how his subjects fared can be found
in White's personal diary, which contains passing references to surprise LSD
experiments: "Gloria gets horrors Janet sky high." The frequency of bad reactions
prompted White to coin his own code word for the drug: "Stormy," which was how he
referred to LSD throughout his fourteen-year stint as a CIA operative.
In 1955 White was transferred to San Francisco, where two more safe houses were
established. During this period he initiated Operation Midnight Climax, in which drug- addicted prostitutes were hired to pick up men from local bars and bring them back
to a CIA-financed bordello. Unknowing customers were treated to drinks laced with
LSD while White sat on a portable toilet behind two-way mirrors, sipping martinis
and watching every stoned and kinky moment. As payment for their services the
hookers received $100 a night, plus a guarantee from White that he'd intercede on
their behalf should they be arrested while plying their trade. In addition to providing
data about LSD, Midnight Climax enabled the CIA to learn about the sexual
proclivities of those who passed through the safe-houses. White's harem of
prostitutes became the focal point of an extensive CIA study of how to exploit the art
of lovemaking for espionage purposes.
When he wasn't operating a national security whorehouse, White would cruise the
streets of San Francisco tracking down drug pushers for the Narcotics Bureau. Sometimes after a tough day on the beat he invited his narc buddies up to one of the
safehouses for a little "R & R." Occasionally they unzipped their inhibitions and
partied on the premisesómuch to the chagrin of the neighbors, who began to
complain about men with guns in shoulder straps chasing after women in various
states of undress. Needless to say, there was always plenty of dope around, and the
feds sampled everything from hashish to LSD. "So far as I'm concerned," White later
told an associate, " 'clear thinking' was non-existent while under the influence of any
of these drugs. I did feel at times like I was having a 'mind-expanding experience' but this vanished like a dream immediately after the session."
White had quite a scene going for a while. By day he fought to keep drugs out of
circulation, and by night he dispensed them to strangers. Not everyone was cut out
for this kind of schizophrenic lifestyle, and White often relied on the bottle to
reconcile the two extremes. But there were still moments when his Jekyll-and-Hyde
routine got the best of him. One night a friend who had helped install bugging
equipment for the CIA stopped by the safehouse only to find the roly-poly narcotics
officer slumped in front of a full-length mirror. White had just finished polishing off a
half gallon of Gibson's. There he sat, with gun in hand, shooting wax slugs at his own
reflection.
The safe house experiments continued without interruption until 1963, when CIA
inspector general John Earman accidentally stumbled across the clandestine testing
program during a routine inspection of TSS operations. Only a handful of CIA agents
outside Technical Services knew about the testing of LSD on unwitting subjects, and
Earman took Richard Helms, the prime instigator of MK-ULTRA, to task for not fully
briefing the new CIA director, John J. McCone. Although McCone had been
handpicked by President Kennedy to replace Allen Dulles as the dean of American
intelligence, Helms apparently had his own ideas about who was running the CIA.
Earman had grave misgivings about MK-ULTRA and he prepared a twenty-four-page
report that included a comprehensive overview of the drug and mind control
projects. In a cover letter to McCone he noted that the "concepts involved in
manipulating human behavior are found by many people within and outside the
Agency to be distasteful and unethical." But the harshest criticism was reserved for
the safe house experiments, which, in his words, placed "the rights and interests of
U.S. citizens in jeopardy." Earman stated that LSD had been tested on "individuals at
all social levels, high and low, native American and foreign." Numerous subjects had
become ill, and some required hospitalization for days or weeks at a time. Moreover, the sophomoric procedures employed during the safe house sessions raised serious
questions about the validity of the data provided by White, who was hardly a
qualified scientist. As Earman pointed out, the CIA had no way of knowing whether
White was fudging the results to suit his own ends.
Earman recommended a freeze on unwitting drug tests until the matter was fully considered at the highest level of the CIA. But Helms, then deputy director for covert operations (the number two position within the Agency), defended the program. In a memo dated November 9, 1964, he warned that the C.l.A's "positive operational capacity to use drugs is diminishing owing to a lack of realistic testing," and he called for a resumption of the safe house experiments. While admitting that he had "no answer to the moral issue," Helms argued that such tests were necessary "to keep up with Soviet advances in this field."
This Cold War refrain had a familiar ring. Yet only a few months earlier Helms had sung a different tune when J. Lee Rankin, chief counsel of the Warren Commission investigating the Kennedy assassination, asked him to report on Soviet mind control initiatives. Helms stated his views in a document dated June 26, 1964: "Soviet research in the pharmacological agents producing behavioral effects has consistently lagged five years behind Western research [emphasis added]." Furthermore, he confidently asserted that the Russians did not have "any singular, new potent drugs to force a course of action on an individual."
The bureaucratic wrangling at CIA headquarters didn't seem to bother George Hunter White, who kept on sending vouchers for "unorthodox expenses" to Dr. Sidney Gottlieb. No definitive record exists as to when the unwitting acid tests were terminated, but it appears that White and the CIA parted ways when he retired from the Narcotics Bureau in 1966. Afterwards White reflected upon his service for the Agency in a letter to Gottlieb: "I was a very minor missionary, actually a heretic, but I toiled wholeheartedly in the vineyards because it was fun, fun, fun. Where else could a red-blooded American boy lie, kill, cheat, steal, rape, and pillage with the sanction and blessing of the All-Highest?"
By this time the CIA had developed a "stable of drugs," including LSD, that were used in covert operations. The decision to employ LSD on an operational basis was handled through a special committee that reported directly to Richard Helms, who characterized the drug as "dynamite" and asked to be "advised at all times when it was intended for use." A favorite plan involved slipping "P-1" (the code name for LSD when used operationally) to socialist or left-leaning politicians in foreign countries so that they would babble incoherently and discredit themselves in public.
Fidel Castro was among the Third World leaders targeted for surprise acid attacks. When this method proved unworkable, CIA strategists thought of other ways to embarrass the Cuban premier. One scheme involved dusting Castro's shoes with thalium salts to make his beard fall out. Apparently they thought that Castro would lose his charisma along with his hair. Eventually the Agency shifted its focus from bad trips and close shaves to eliminating Castro altogether. Gottlieb and his TSS cohorts were asked to prepare an array of bizarre gadgets and biochemical poisons for a series of murder conspiracies allying the CIA with anti-Castro mercenaries and the Mob.
Egyptian president Gamal Abdal Nasser also figured high on the ClA's hallucinogenic hit list. While he managed to avoid such a fate, others presumably were less fortunate. CIA documents cited in a documentary by ABC News confirm that Gottlieb carried a stash of acid overseas on a number of occasions during the Cold War with the intention of dosing foreign diplomats and statesmen. But the effects of LSD were difficult to predict when employed in such a haphazard manner, and the CIA used LSD only sparingly in operations of this sort.
According to Major General William Creasy, chemical incapacitate went hand in
glove with the strategic requirements of the Cold War. As chief officer of the Army
Chemical Corps, Creasy promoted the psycho-chemical cause with eccentric and
visionary zeal. He maintained that this type of warfare was not only feasible but
tactically advantageous in certain situations. Consider, for example, the difficult task
of dislodging enemy soldiers from a city inhabited by an otherwise friendly
population an industrial center perhaps, bustling with activity. Assume that the city
housed numerous museums and cultural landmarks. Why blow to smithereens the
best and worst alike with an old-fashioned artillery barrage? The prospect of
obliterating the whole kit and caboodle seemed downright foolish to Creasy if you
could get away with less.
Suppose instead you found a way to spike the city's water supply or to release a hallucinogen in aerosol form. For twelve to twenty-four hours all the people in the vicinity would be hopelessly giddy, vertiginous, spaced-out. Those under the spell of madness gas would be incapable of raising a whimper of protest while American troops established themselves on what was once forbidden turf. Victory would be a foregone conclusion, as smooth and effortless as the French army in The King of Hearts strolling into a town inhabited solely by asylum inmates.
Yes, wouldn't it be nice to take the teeth out of war and at the same time make its result so final? Just blow their minds, move in, and take over; it was that simple or so Creasy claimed. As soon as the citizenry recovered from their relatively brief stint in the ozone, everyone would return to a nine-to-five schedule. There'd be no fatalities and, except for a few borderline psychotics pushed over the edge by the drug, no sick or wounded needing medical care. Most important, the local economy would have suffered no significant setback.
Psycho-chemical weapons, Creasy argued, offered the most humane way of conducting the dirty business of warfare. He preached a new military gospel: war without death. An era of bloodless combat was just around the proverbial comer. There was only one problem. The sadly misinformed lay public and their elected officials harbored a knee-jerk aversion to chemical weapons.
In May 1959 Creasy took his case directly to the people by granting interviews to reporters and stumping for psycho-chemicals on a cross-country lecture tour. "I do not contend that driving people crazy even for a few hours is a pleasant prospect," he told This Week magazine. "But warfare is never pleasant. And to those who feel that any kind of chemical weapon is more horrible than conventional weapons, I put this question: Would you rather be temporarily deranged, blinded, or paralyzed by a chemical agent, or burned alive by a conventional fire bomb?"
Creasy testified a short time later to the House Committee on Science and Astronautics. He explained to the bewildered congressmen how a psycho-chemical "attacks the sensory, perception, and nerve centers of the body discombobulating them . Your hearing might be affected, your sight might be affected, your physical balance might be affected." Moreover, these drugs worked so swiftly that people wouldn't even know they'd been hit.
Representative James Fulton (R-Pa.) was disturbed by Creasy's remarks. He wondered if some foreign power might already be subjecting people in the United States to such agents. "How can we determine it?" Fulton asked. "What is the test to see whether we are already being subjected to them? Are we under it now? Are we the rabbits and the guinea pigs? How are we to know?"
Simple, said Creasy. If LSD or a related drug was administered to members of Congress, "we could possibly have you dancing on the desks, or shouting Communist speeches."
Fulton gasped. "Have you ever tried them on Congress?"
"I can assure you of one thing," said Creasy. "The Chemical Corps of the Army has not found it necessary to do it up until now."
Creasy's five-star performance succeeded in winning the hearts, minds, and appropriations of Congress and the Joint Chiefs of Staff. A sizable budget increase was awarded to the Chemical Corps for the express purpose of developing a nonlethal incapacitate that could subdue a foe without inflicting permanent injury. Apparently Creasy neglected to inform the congressmen of the death of Harold Blauer in 1953. Blauer, a tennis professional, was the subject of a drug study conducted by a group of doctors working under army contract at the New York State Psychiatric Institute. He died a few hours after receiving an injection of MDA (methyl di-amphetamine, known in latter-day street parlance as the "love drug") supplied by Edgewood Arsenal, headquarters of the Army Chemical Corps. "We didn't know if it was dog piss or what it was we were giving him," an army researcher later admitted.
The scientist who directly oversaw this research project was Dr. Paul Hoch, an early advocate of the theory that LSD and other hallucinogens were essentially psychosis- producing drugs. In succeeding years Hoch performed a number of bizarre experiments for the army while also serving as a CIA consultant. Intraspinal injections of mescaline and LSD were administered to psychiatric patients, causing an "immediate, massive, and almost shocklike picture with higher doses." Aftereffects ("generalized discomfort," "withdrawal," "oddness," and "unreality feelings") lingered for two to three days following the injections. Hoch, who later became New York State Commissioner for Mental Hygiene, also gave LSD to psychiatric patients and then lobotomized them in order to compare the effects of acid before and after psychosurgery. ("It is possible that a certain amount of brain damage is of therapeutic value," Hoch once stated.) In one experiment a hallucinogen was administered along with a local anesthetic and the subject was told to describe his visual experiences as surgeons removed chunks of his cerebral cortex.
Another scientist who rented his services to the CIA as well as the military was Dr. Robert Heath of Tulane University. Heath and his colleagues administered LSD to
people and then subjected them to electronic brain stimulation via electrode implant. One test subject became hysterical, lapsed into a trancelike state, and later claimed
that the doctors were trying to manipulate her body. She was "obviously having
paranoid ideas," commented an army employee.
In addition to sponsoring research at various universities and civilian hospitals, the army conducted extensive in-house studies with LSD. During the late 1950's a series of tests was initiated at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Their purpose was to determine how well soldiers would fare in the execution of war games while high on acid. Small military units were given EA-I729, the army's secret code number for LSD, and asked to perform various operational exercises, including command-post maneuvers, squad drills, tank driving, radarscope reading, antiaircraft tracking, meteorological and engineering surveys, and so on. The results showed performance ranging "from total incapacity to marked decrease in proficiency." Unbeknownst to the stoned servicemen, some of these exercises were filmed by the army and were later shown to members of Congress to demonstrate the disruptive influence of psycho-chemicals.
Concerned that LSD might one day be used covertly against an American military unit, certain officials suggested that every Chemical Corps officer should be familiar with the effects of the drug, if only as a precautionary measure. Accordingly nearly two hundred officers assigned to the Chemical Corps school at Fort McClellan, Alabama, were given acid as a supplement to their regular training program. Some staff members even tried to teach classes while tripping.
Additional tests were carried out at the Aberdeen Proving Ground in Maryland; Fort Benning, Georgia; Fort Leavenworth, Kansas; Dug-way Proving Ground, Utah; and in various European and Pacific stations. Soldiers at Edgewood Arsenal were given LSD and confined to sensory deprivation chambers; then they were subjected to hostile questioning by intelligence officers. An army report concludes that an "interrogator of limited experience could compel a subject to compromise himself and to sign documents which could place him in jeopardy." With a stronger dose "a state of fear and anxiety could be induced where the subject could be compelled to trade his cooperation for a guarantee of return to normalcy."
Shortly thereafter the military began using LSD as an interrogation weapon on an operational basis, just as the CIA had been doing for years. An army memo dated September 6, 1961, discussed the interrogation procedure: "Stressing techniques employed included silent treatment before or after EA 1729 administration, sustained conventional interrogation prior to EA 1729 interrogation, deprivation of food, drink, sleep or bodily evacuation, sustained isolation prior to EA 1729 administration, hot- cold switches in approach, duress 'pitches,' verbal degradation and bodily discomfort, or dramatized threats to subject's life or mental health."
Documents pertaining to Operation DERBY HAT indicate that an army Special Purpose Team trained in LSD interrogations initiated a series of field tests in the Far East beginning in August 1962. Seven individuals were questioned; all were foreign nationals who had been implicated in drug smuggling or espionage activities, and in each case the EA-I729 technique produced information that had not been obtained through other means. One subject vomited three times and stated that he "wanted to die" after the Special Purpose Team gave him LSD; his reaction was characterized as "moderate." Another went into shock and remained semiconscious for nearly an hour after receiving triple the dosage normally used in these sessions. When he came to, the Special Purpose Team propped him up in a chair and tried to question him, but the subject kept collapsing and hitting his head on the table, oblivious to the pain. A few hours later he started to talk. "The subject often voiced an anti- communist line," an army report noted, "and begged to be spared the torture he was receiving. In this confused state he even asked to be killed in order to alleviate his suffering." *
* Upon completion of their mission in November 1962, the Special Purpose Team was told to remain in Japan and wait for further instructions. Arrangements were made to extend their stay in the Pacific Theater for an additional sixty days so that they could travel to Saigon. According to the army inspector general, a letter hand-delivered to the team "allegedly announced the Secretary of Defense's decision to use LSD on Viet Cong POW's."
By the mid-1960's nearly fifteen hundred military personnel had served as guinea pigs in LSD experiments conducted by the US Army Chemical Corps. Some later claimed they were coerced into "volunteering" for these experiments by their superior officers. A number of GI veterans complained they suffered from severe depression and emotional disturbances after the LSD trials. Ironically, there were also reports that soldiers at Edgewood Arsenal were stealing LSD from the laboratories and using it for recreational purposes. Some of these men had taken their first "trip" (the word originally coined by army scientists to describe an LSD session) when acid was given to unsuspecting GI's at mess parties.
Army policy restricted LSD tests to individual volunteers or small groups of military personnel. That was not enough for the leaders of the Chemical Corps. Major General Creasy bemoaned the fact that large-scale testing of psycho-chemical weapons in the United States was prohibited. "I was attempting to put on, with a good cover story," he grumbled, "to test to see what would happen in subways, for example, when a cloud was laid down on a city. It was denied on reasons that always seemed a little absurd to me."
Earman recommended a freeze on unwitting drug tests until the matter was fully considered at the highest level of the CIA. But Helms, then deputy director for covert operations (the number two position within the Agency), defended the program. In a memo dated November 9, 1964, he warned that the C.l.A's "positive operational capacity to use drugs is diminishing owing to a lack of realistic testing," and he called for a resumption of the safe house experiments. While admitting that he had "no answer to the moral issue," Helms argued that such tests were necessary "to keep up with Soviet advances in this field."
This Cold War refrain had a familiar ring. Yet only a few months earlier Helms had sung a different tune when J. Lee Rankin, chief counsel of the Warren Commission investigating the Kennedy assassination, asked him to report on Soviet mind control initiatives. Helms stated his views in a document dated June 26, 1964: "Soviet research in the pharmacological agents producing behavioral effects has consistently lagged five years behind Western research [emphasis added]." Furthermore, he confidently asserted that the Russians did not have "any singular, new potent drugs to force a course of action on an individual."
The bureaucratic wrangling at CIA headquarters didn't seem to bother George Hunter White, who kept on sending vouchers for "unorthodox expenses" to Dr. Sidney Gottlieb. No definitive record exists as to when the unwitting acid tests were terminated, but it appears that White and the CIA parted ways when he retired from the Narcotics Bureau in 1966. Afterwards White reflected upon his service for the Agency in a letter to Gottlieb: "I was a very minor missionary, actually a heretic, but I toiled wholeheartedly in the vineyards because it was fun, fun, fun. Where else could a red-blooded American boy lie, kill, cheat, steal, rape, and pillage with the sanction and blessing of the All-Highest?"
By this time the CIA had developed a "stable of drugs," including LSD, that were used in covert operations. The decision to employ LSD on an operational basis was handled through a special committee that reported directly to Richard Helms, who characterized the drug as "dynamite" and asked to be "advised at all times when it was intended for use." A favorite plan involved slipping "P-1" (the code name for LSD when used operationally) to socialist or left-leaning politicians in foreign countries so that they would babble incoherently and discredit themselves in public.
Fidel Castro was among the Third World leaders targeted for surprise acid attacks. When this method proved unworkable, CIA strategists thought of other ways to embarrass the Cuban premier. One scheme involved dusting Castro's shoes with thalium salts to make his beard fall out. Apparently they thought that Castro would lose his charisma along with his hair. Eventually the Agency shifted its focus from bad trips and close shaves to eliminating Castro altogether. Gottlieb and his TSS cohorts were asked to prepare an array of bizarre gadgets and biochemical poisons for a series of murder conspiracies allying the CIA with anti-Castro mercenaries and the Mob.
Egyptian president Gamal Abdal Nasser also figured high on the ClA's hallucinogenic hit list. While he managed to avoid such a fate, others presumably were less fortunate. CIA documents cited in a documentary by ABC News confirm that Gottlieb carried a stash of acid overseas on a number of occasions during the Cold War with the intention of dosing foreign diplomats and statesmen. But the effects of LSD were difficult to predict when employed in such a haphazard manner, and the CIA used LSD only sparingly in operations of this sort.
The Hallucination Battlefield
While the CIA was interested in LSD primarily as an instrument of clandestine
warfare, the United States Army pursued a more grandiose scheme. During the Cold
War top-level military brass waxed enthusiastic over the prospect of a new kind of
chemical weapon that would revolutionize combat. They imagined aircraft swooping
over enemy territory releasing clouds of "madness gas" that would disorient people
and dissolve their will to resist. This scenario appealed to those in the Pentagon who
felt hamstrung by the possibility of a nuclear shoot-out with the Ruskies. They
realized that new methods of waging limited warfare would have to be developed, and psycho-chemical weapons seemed to offer an attractive alternative. Suppose instead you found a way to spike the city's water supply or to release a hallucinogen in aerosol form. For twelve to twenty-four hours all the people in the vicinity would be hopelessly giddy, vertiginous, spaced-out. Those under the spell of madness gas would be incapable of raising a whimper of protest while American troops established themselves on what was once forbidden turf. Victory would be a foregone conclusion, as smooth and effortless as the French army in The King of Hearts strolling into a town inhabited solely by asylum inmates.
Yes, wouldn't it be nice to take the teeth out of war and at the same time make its result so final? Just blow their minds, move in, and take over; it was that simple or so Creasy claimed. As soon as the citizenry recovered from their relatively brief stint in the ozone, everyone would return to a nine-to-five schedule. There'd be no fatalities and, except for a few borderline psychotics pushed over the edge by the drug, no sick or wounded needing medical care. Most important, the local economy would have suffered no significant setback.
Psycho-chemical weapons, Creasy argued, offered the most humane way of conducting the dirty business of warfare. He preached a new military gospel: war without death. An era of bloodless combat was just around the proverbial comer. There was only one problem. The sadly misinformed lay public and their elected officials harbored a knee-jerk aversion to chemical weapons.
In May 1959 Creasy took his case directly to the people by granting interviews to reporters and stumping for psycho-chemicals on a cross-country lecture tour. "I do not contend that driving people crazy even for a few hours is a pleasant prospect," he told This Week magazine. "But warfare is never pleasant. And to those who feel that any kind of chemical weapon is more horrible than conventional weapons, I put this question: Would you rather be temporarily deranged, blinded, or paralyzed by a chemical agent, or burned alive by a conventional fire bomb?"
Creasy testified a short time later to the House Committee on Science and Astronautics. He explained to the bewildered congressmen how a psycho-chemical "attacks the sensory, perception, and nerve centers of the body discombobulating them . Your hearing might be affected, your sight might be affected, your physical balance might be affected." Moreover, these drugs worked so swiftly that people wouldn't even know they'd been hit.
Representative James Fulton (R-Pa.) was disturbed by Creasy's remarks. He wondered if some foreign power might already be subjecting people in the United States to such agents. "How can we determine it?" Fulton asked. "What is the test to see whether we are already being subjected to them? Are we under it now? Are we the rabbits and the guinea pigs? How are we to know?"
Simple, said Creasy. If LSD or a related drug was administered to members of Congress, "we could possibly have you dancing on the desks, or shouting Communist speeches."
Fulton gasped. "Have you ever tried them on Congress?"
"I can assure you of one thing," said Creasy. "The Chemical Corps of the Army has not found it necessary to do it up until now."
Creasy's five-star performance succeeded in winning the hearts, minds, and appropriations of Congress and the Joint Chiefs of Staff. A sizable budget increase was awarded to the Chemical Corps for the express purpose of developing a nonlethal incapacitate that could subdue a foe without inflicting permanent injury. Apparently Creasy neglected to inform the congressmen of the death of Harold Blauer in 1953. Blauer, a tennis professional, was the subject of a drug study conducted by a group of doctors working under army contract at the New York State Psychiatric Institute. He died a few hours after receiving an injection of MDA (methyl di-amphetamine, known in latter-day street parlance as the "love drug") supplied by Edgewood Arsenal, headquarters of the Army Chemical Corps. "We didn't know if it was dog piss or what it was we were giving him," an army researcher later admitted.
The scientist who directly oversaw this research project was Dr. Paul Hoch, an early advocate of the theory that LSD and other hallucinogens were essentially psychosis- producing drugs. In succeeding years Hoch performed a number of bizarre experiments for the army while also serving as a CIA consultant. Intraspinal injections of mescaline and LSD were administered to psychiatric patients, causing an "immediate, massive, and almost shocklike picture with higher doses." Aftereffects ("generalized discomfort," "withdrawal," "oddness," and "unreality feelings") lingered for two to three days following the injections. Hoch, who later became New York State Commissioner for Mental Hygiene, also gave LSD to psychiatric patients and then lobotomized them in order to compare the effects of acid before and after psychosurgery. ("It is possible that a certain amount of brain damage is of therapeutic value," Hoch once stated.) In one experiment a hallucinogen was administered along with a local anesthetic and the subject was told to describe his visual experiences as surgeons removed chunks of his cerebral cortex.
In addition to sponsoring research at various universities and civilian hospitals, the army conducted extensive in-house studies with LSD. During the late 1950's a series of tests was initiated at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Their purpose was to determine how well soldiers would fare in the execution of war games while high on acid. Small military units were given EA-I729, the army's secret code number for LSD, and asked to perform various operational exercises, including command-post maneuvers, squad drills, tank driving, radarscope reading, antiaircraft tracking, meteorological and engineering surveys, and so on. The results showed performance ranging "from total incapacity to marked decrease in proficiency." Unbeknownst to the stoned servicemen, some of these exercises were filmed by the army and were later shown to members of Congress to demonstrate the disruptive influence of psycho-chemicals.
Concerned that LSD might one day be used covertly against an American military unit, certain officials suggested that every Chemical Corps officer should be familiar with the effects of the drug, if only as a precautionary measure. Accordingly nearly two hundred officers assigned to the Chemical Corps school at Fort McClellan, Alabama, were given acid as a supplement to their regular training program. Some staff members even tried to teach classes while tripping.
Additional tests were carried out at the Aberdeen Proving Ground in Maryland; Fort Benning, Georgia; Fort Leavenworth, Kansas; Dug-way Proving Ground, Utah; and in various European and Pacific stations. Soldiers at Edgewood Arsenal were given LSD and confined to sensory deprivation chambers; then they were subjected to hostile questioning by intelligence officers. An army report concludes that an "interrogator of limited experience could compel a subject to compromise himself and to sign documents which could place him in jeopardy." With a stronger dose "a state of fear and anxiety could be induced where the subject could be compelled to trade his cooperation for a guarantee of return to normalcy."
Shortly thereafter the military began using LSD as an interrogation weapon on an operational basis, just as the CIA had been doing for years. An army memo dated September 6, 1961, discussed the interrogation procedure: "Stressing techniques employed included silent treatment before or after EA 1729 administration, sustained conventional interrogation prior to EA 1729 interrogation, deprivation of food, drink, sleep or bodily evacuation, sustained isolation prior to EA 1729 administration, hot- cold switches in approach, duress 'pitches,' verbal degradation and bodily discomfort, or dramatized threats to subject's life or mental health."
Documents pertaining to Operation DERBY HAT indicate that an army Special Purpose Team trained in LSD interrogations initiated a series of field tests in the Far East beginning in August 1962. Seven individuals were questioned; all were foreign nationals who had been implicated in drug smuggling or espionage activities, and in each case the EA-I729 technique produced information that had not been obtained through other means. One subject vomited three times and stated that he "wanted to die" after the Special Purpose Team gave him LSD; his reaction was characterized as "moderate." Another went into shock and remained semiconscious for nearly an hour after receiving triple the dosage normally used in these sessions. When he came to, the Special Purpose Team propped him up in a chair and tried to question him, but the subject kept collapsing and hitting his head on the table, oblivious to the pain. A few hours later he started to talk. "The subject often voiced an anti- communist line," an army report noted, "and begged to be spared the torture he was receiving. In this confused state he even asked to be killed in order to alleviate his suffering." *
* Upon completion of their mission in November 1962, the Special Purpose Team was told to remain in Japan and wait for further instructions. Arrangements were made to extend their stay in the Pacific Theater for an additional sixty days so that they could travel to Saigon. According to the army inspector general, a letter hand-delivered to the team "allegedly announced the Secretary of Defense's decision to use LSD on Viet Cong POW's."
By the mid-1960's nearly fifteen hundred military personnel had served as guinea pigs in LSD experiments conducted by the US Army Chemical Corps. Some later claimed they were coerced into "volunteering" for these experiments by their superior officers. A number of GI veterans complained they suffered from severe depression and emotional disturbances after the LSD trials. Ironically, there were also reports that soldiers at Edgewood Arsenal were stealing LSD from the laboratories and using it for recreational purposes. Some of these men had taken their first "trip" (the word originally coined by army scientists to describe an LSD session) when acid was given to unsuspecting GI's at mess parties.
Army policy restricted LSD tests to individual volunteers or small groups of military personnel. That was not enough for the leaders of the Chemical Corps. Major General Creasy bemoaned the fact that large-scale testing of psycho-chemical weapons in the United States was prohibited. "I was attempting to put on, with a good cover story," he grumbled, "to test to see what would happen in subways, for example, when a cloud was laid down on a city. It was denied on reasons that always seemed a little absurd to me."
As it happened, however, LSD was much more effective by ingestion than by
inhalation, and the Chemical Corps was unable to figure out an appropriate means
for delivering the drug. This precluded any possibility of using LSD as a large-scale
battle weapon. Undaunted, the military surrealists and their industrial counterparts
forged ahead in search of a drug and a delivery system that could do the job. During
the early 1960's Edgewood Arsenal received an average of four hundred chemical "rejects" every month from the major American pharmaceutical firms. Rejects were
drugs found to be commercially useless because of their undesirable side effects. Of
course, undesirable side effects were precisely what the army was looking for.
It was from Hoffmann-La Roche in Nutley, New Jersey, that Edgewood Arsenal obtained its first sample of a drug called quinuclidinyl benzilate, or BZ for short. The army learned that BZ inhibits the production of a chemical substance that facilitates the transfer of messages along the nerve endings, thereby disrupting normal perceptual patterns. The effects generally last about three days, although symptoms of headaches, giddiness, disorientation, auditory and visual hallucinations, and maniacal behavior have been known to persist for as long as six weeks. "During the period of acute effects," noted an army doctor, "the person is completely out of touch with his environment."
Dr. Van Sim, who served as chief of the Clinical Research Division at Edgewood, made it a practice to try all new chemicals himself before testing them on volunteers. Sim said he sampled LSD "on several occasions." Did he enjoy getting high, or were
his acid trips simply a patriotic duty? "It's not a matter of compulsiveness or wanting
to be the first to try a material," Sim stated. "With my experience I am often able to
change the design of future experiments . This allows more comprehensive tests to
be conducted later, with maximum effective usefulness of inexperienced volunteers. I'm trying to defeat the compound, and if I can, we don't have to drag out the tests
at the expense of a lot of time and money."
With BZ Dr. Sim seems to have met his match. "It zonked me for three days. I kept falling down and the people at the lab assigned someone to follow me around with a mattress. I woke up from it after three days without a bruise." For his efforts Sim received the Decoration for Exceptional Civilian Service and was cited for exposing himself to dangerous drugs "at the risk of grave personal injury."
According to Dr. Solomon Snyder, a leading psychopharmacologist at Johns Hopkins
University, which conducted drug research for the Chemical Corps, "The army's
testing of LSD was just a sideshow compared to its use of BZ." Clinical studies with
EA-2277 (the code number for BZ) were initiated at Edgewood Arsenal in 1959 and
continued until 1975. During this period an estimated twenty-eight hundred soldiers
were exposed to the superhallucinogen. A number of military personnel have since
come forward claiming that they were never the same after their encounter with BZ. Robert Bowen, a former air force enlisted man, felt disoriented for several weeks
after his exposure. Bowen said the drug produced a temporary feeling of insanity but
that he reacted less severely than other test subjects. One paratrooper lost all
muscle control for a time and later seemed totally divorced from reality. "The last
time I saw him," said Bowen, "he was taking a shower in his uniform and smoking a
cigar."
*
* Pentagon spokespeople insist that the potential hazards of such experimentation were "supposed" to be fully explained to all volunteers. But as Dr. Snyder noted, nobody "can tell you for sure BZ won't have a long-lasting effect. With an initial effect of eighty hours compared to eight for LSD you would have to worry more about its long-lasting or recurrent effects."
After extensive clinical testing at Edgewood Arsenal, the army concluded that BZ was better suited than LSD as a chemical warfare agent for a number of reasons. While acid could knock a person "off his rocker," to use Chemical Corps jargon, BZ would also put him "on the floor" (render him physically immobile). This unique combinationóboth "off the rocker" and "on the floor"ówas exactly what the army sought from an incapacitant. Moreover, BZ was cheaper to produce, more reliable, and packed a stronger punch than LSD. Most important, BZ could be dispersed as an aerosol mist that would float with the wind across city or battlefield. Some advantage was also found in the fact that test subjects lapsed into a state of "semi-quiet delirium" and had no memory of their BZ experience.
This was not to belittle lysergic acid. Although LSD never found a place in the army's arsenal, the drug undoubtedly left its mark on the military mind. Once again LSD seems to have acted primarily as a catalyst. Before acid touched the fancy of army strategists, Creasy's vision of a new kind of warfare was merely a pipe dream. With LSD it suddenly became a real possibility.
During the early 1960's the CIA and the military began to phase out their in-house acid tests in favor of more powerful chemicals such as BZ, which became the army's standard incapacitating agent. By this time the superhallucinogen was ready for deployment in a grenade, a 750-pound cluster bomb, and at least one other large- scale bomb. In addition the army tested a number of other advanced BZ munitions, including mortar, artillery, and missile warheads. The superhallucinogen was reportedly employed by American troops as a counterinsurgency weapon in Vietnam, and according to CIA documents there may be contingency plans to use the drug in the event of a major civilian insurrection. As Creasy warned shortly after he retired from the Army Chemical Corps, "We will use these things as we very well see fit, when we think it is in the best interest of the US and their allies."
to be continued
2 Psychedelic Pioneers
It was from Hoffmann-La Roche in Nutley, New Jersey, that Edgewood Arsenal obtained its first sample of a drug called quinuclidinyl benzilate, or BZ for short. The army learned that BZ inhibits the production of a chemical substance that facilitates the transfer of messages along the nerve endings, thereby disrupting normal perceptual patterns. The effects generally last about three days, although symptoms of headaches, giddiness, disorientation, auditory and visual hallucinations, and maniacal behavior have been known to persist for as long as six weeks. "During the period of acute effects," noted an army doctor, "the person is completely out of touch with his environment."
With BZ Dr. Sim seems to have met his match. "It zonked me for three days. I kept falling down and the people at the lab assigned someone to follow me around with a mattress. I woke up from it after three days without a bruise." For his efforts Sim received the Decoration for Exceptional Civilian Service and was cited for exposing himself to dangerous drugs "at the risk of grave personal injury."
* Pentagon spokespeople insist that the potential hazards of such experimentation were "supposed" to be fully explained to all volunteers. But as Dr. Snyder noted, nobody "can tell you for sure BZ won't have a long-lasting effect. With an initial effect of eighty hours compared to eight for LSD you would have to worry more about its long-lasting or recurrent effects."
After extensive clinical testing at Edgewood Arsenal, the army concluded that BZ was better suited than LSD as a chemical warfare agent for a number of reasons. While acid could knock a person "off his rocker," to use Chemical Corps jargon, BZ would also put him "on the floor" (render him physically immobile). This unique combinationóboth "off the rocker" and "on the floor"ówas exactly what the army sought from an incapacitant. Moreover, BZ was cheaper to produce, more reliable, and packed a stronger punch than LSD. Most important, BZ could be dispersed as an aerosol mist that would float with the wind across city or battlefield. Some advantage was also found in the fact that test subjects lapsed into a state of "semi-quiet delirium" and had no memory of their BZ experience.
This was not to belittle lysergic acid. Although LSD never found a place in the army's arsenal, the drug undoubtedly left its mark on the military mind. Once again LSD seems to have acted primarily as a catalyst. Before acid touched the fancy of army strategists, Creasy's vision of a new kind of warfare was merely a pipe dream. With LSD it suddenly became a real possibility.
During the early 1960's the CIA and the military began to phase out their in-house acid tests in favor of more powerful chemicals such as BZ, which became the army's standard incapacitating agent. By this time the superhallucinogen was ready for deployment in a grenade, a 750-pound cluster bomb, and at least one other large- scale bomb. In addition the army tested a number of other advanced BZ munitions, including mortar, artillery, and missile warheads. The superhallucinogen was reportedly employed by American troops as a counterinsurgency weapon in Vietnam, and according to CIA documents there may be contingency plans to use the drug in the event of a major civilian insurrection. As Creasy warned shortly after he retired from the Army Chemical Corps, "We will use these things as we very well see fit, when we think it is in the best interest of the US and their allies."
to be continued
2 Psychedelic Pioneers
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