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      <div class="header reader-header reader-show-element"><a class="moz-txt-link-freetext" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Antony%27s_College,_Oxford#cite_note-6">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Antony%27s_College,_Oxford#cite_note-6</a></div>
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      <div class="header reader-header reader-show-element"><a
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href="https://theconversation.com/back-in-the-ussr-my-life-as-a-spy-in-the-archives-26303">theconversation.com</a>
        <h1 class="reader-title">Back in the USSR: my life as a 'spy' in
          the archives</h1>
        <div class="credits reader-credits">Sheila Fitzpatrick</div>
        <div class="meta-data">
          <div class="reader-estimated-time" dir="ltr">6-8 minutes</div>
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              <p>Spies were a glamour news item in Western (and Soviet)
                press in the 1960s; it was the age of <a
href="http://www.historytoday.com/boris-volodarsky/kim-philby-living-lie">Kim
                  Philby</a>, British spymaster-cum-Soviet spy, and the
                endless media hunt for the “<a
                  href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/archive/cambridgespies/7813.shtml">fifth
                  man</a>” of the Cambridge Five. That’s the environment
                I entered in September 1966, when I went to Moscow as a
                British Council Exchange student. </p>
              <p>It’s hard to convey how exotic and potentially perilous
                Moscow seemed to Westerners then. This was the height of
                the Cold War, when scarcely any foreigners could live
                for a year in Moscow alongside Soviet citizens, and we
                British students (I was actually an Australian, but it
                was a British exchange) were specially briefed by
                someone from MI6 about the dangers of making Soviet
                friends, since they would all be spies and assume the
                same of us. </p>
              <figure> <a
href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/48221/original/qgxsd2t5-1399859810.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip">
                  <p><img alt=""
data-src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/48221/original/qgxsd2t5-1399859810.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip"
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                      class="moz-reader-block-img"></p>
                </a> <figcaption> <span class="caption">Sheila at
                    Kuznetskii bridge over Moscow river, 1969.</span> <span><span>Author's
                      image. </span></span> </figcaption> </figure>
              <p>Presumably there were some real spies in our British
                group; there certainly were in the Soviet group sent to
                Britain, since one of them ended up as No. 3 man in the
                KGB. I myself was not a spy, even though the place I was
                doing my Soviet history doctorate, St Antony’s in
                Oxford, was notorious in both the British and Soviet
                press as a “spy college”, having been founded after the
                war by ex-intelligence people. </p>
              <p>But sometimes I felt like one, just because, from the
                Soviet standpoint, anyone who tried to find out things
                the Soviet Union didn’t want known about itself and its
                history qualified as a spy.</p>
              <p>I spent three lonely months falling in love with Moscow
                but knowing almost nobody. Then I made Russian friends,
                as most of the British group did, who turned out to be
                friends for life. </p>
              <p>The KGB was interested in our friends and lovers, up to
                a point, but what they really disapproved of was
                marriage between a Soviet citizen and a foreigner. </p>
              <p>Although it was no longer against the law, it was hard
                to do, and harder still to export your spouse once you
                had married them. There were sad cases of foreigners who
                had married Russians and stayed in the Soviet Union,
                cast off by their embassies and under pressure from the
                Soviets to give up their British or American passports.
                Those passports were our most precious possession: they
                meant that, unlike Soviet citizens, we could leave the
                country.</p>
              <figure> <a
href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/47780/original/cy3ww2js-1399262070.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip">
                  <p><img alt=""
data-src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/47780/original/cy3ww2js-1399262070.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip"
data-srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/47780/original/cy3ww2js-1399262070.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=418&fit=crop&dpr=1
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                      class="moz-reader-block-img"></p>
                </a> <figcaption> <span class="caption">Soviet
                    citizens in Moscow, 1969.</span> <span><span>Rob
                      Ketcherside</span></span> </figcaption> </figure>
              <p>The only thing as exciting as my new friendships were
                the archives. Foreigners were generally not allowed into
                archives of the Soviet period in case they found out
                “state secrets”, a Soviet obsession, but I had a
                relatively innocuous topic (Soviet education in the
                1920s) and managed to gain limited access. </p>
              <figure> <a
href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/48219/original/bkgdy6zj-1399859517.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip">
                  <p><img alt=""
data-src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/48219/original/bkgdy6zj-1399859517.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip"
data-srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/48219/original/bkgdy6zj-1399859517.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=1
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                      class="moz-reader-block-img"></p>
                </a> <figcaption> <span class="caption">The State
                    Archives – unchanged – in 2012.</span> <span><span>Author's
                      image.</span></span> </figcaption> </figure>
              <p>It was a constant battle of wits with the archivists to
                get the material you wanted, particularly since the
                inventories of what they had were themselves state
                secrets, so you had to guess. Absolutely off limits were
                classified documents and because of the obsession with
                secrecy, many documents were classified. </p>
              <p>But it turned out that, even with unclassified
                documents, you could find out a lot. That process felt
                so surreptitious that if they had arrested and
                interrogated me, I might have broken down and confessed
                to being a spy. But it wasn’t the Stalin period any
                more, so they weren’t going to arrest me as long as I
                was on the official British exchange. The worst thing
                they could do was to declare me <em>persona non grata</em>
                and throw me out of the country. </p>
              <p>That happened to a handful of foreign students each
                year; and I might have been one of them, since at the
                end of my first year I was denounced in the newspaper
                Sovetskaia Rossiia as “next thing to a spy” for writing
                an allegedly defamatory article about Soviet history.
                But I was lucky: the article was published under my
                maiden name and nobody made the connection.</p>
              <figure> <a
href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/48222/original/q6dgbq9v-1399860019.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip">
                  <p><img alt=""
data-src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/48222/original/q6dgbq9v-1399860019.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip"
data-srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/48222/original/q6dgbq9v-1399860019.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=786&fit=crop&dpr=1
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src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/48222/original/q6dgbq9v-1399860019.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip"
                      class="moz-reader-block-img"></p>
                </a> <figcaption> <span class="caption">A 1968 article
                    in newspaper Sovetskaia Rossiia denouncing the
                    author as the “next thing to a spy”.</span> <span><span>Author's
                      image</span></span> </figcaption> </figure>
              <p>I had been a Soviet historian, practising my trade in
                the United States, for more than 20 years when in 1991
                the Soviet Union collapsed. No one expected it, least of
                all the Russian population, who watched in bewilderment
                as erstwhile Soviet officials pocketed whatever state
                asset they had their hands on when the music stopped,
                from real estate to whole republics.</p>
              <p>For Russians, the great thing about the collapse was
                that the borders opened and they were able to travel
                abroad; the worst thing was that they lost all the
                “fraternal” republics and found out that at least some
                of their brothers thought they were imperialists. For
                historians, it was a wonderful time because we were
                suddenly able to read the classified part of the
                archives – in effect, dig up all the dirt. </p>
              <figure> <a
href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/48225/original/dtzn6rmh-1399860579.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip">
                  <p><img alt=""
data-src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/48225/original/dtzn6rmh-1399860579.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip"
data-srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/48225/original/dtzn6rmh-1399860579.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=417&fit=crop&dpr=1
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src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/48225/original/dtzn6rmh-1399860579.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip"
                      class="moz-reader-block-img"></p>
                </a> <figcaption> <span class="caption">Moscow State
                    University, 1969.</span> <span><span>Rob
                      Ketcherside</span></span> </figcaption> </figure>
              <p>Or nearly all: while the Communist Party’s archive
                opened because the formerly ruling party was now no
                longer in power, the KGB archive stayed closed, for the
                opposite reason. The KGB, renamed FSB, was one Soviet
                institution that survived the debacle more or less
                intact. It makes sense that the strongest and savviest
                of Russia’s post-Soviet leaders, Vladimir Putin, should
                have come from its ranks.</p>
              <p>In the old Soviet Union, you didn’t joke about being a
                spy, any more than you would now joke at any
                international airport about being a terrorist with a
                bomb. I’d forgotten that when I wrote my Soviet memoir
                and called it A Spy in the Archives; or perhaps I
                thought it was no longer relevant, since the Soviet
                Union was dead. Russian friends quickly set me right: if
                you’re a foreigner and have any sense, you still don’t
                joke about being a spy. </p>
              <p>And if you write about the second world war, you’d
                better be careful not to disrespect the Soviet war
                effort – you can get five years prison for that,
                according to a <a
href="http://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/12/world/europe/russia-revisits-its-history-to-nail-down-its-future.html">Russian
                  law passed this month</a>. </p>
              <p><em>Sheila Fitzpatrick is author of <a
href="http://www.randomhouse.com.au/books/fitzpatrick-sheila/spy-in-the-archives-9780522861181.aspx">A
                    Spy in the Archives</a> (Melbourne University Press,
                  2013) and many books on Soviet history. She will be <a
href="http://sydney.edu.au/arts/sydney_writers_festival/our_experts/sheila_fitzpatrick.shtml">giving
                    a Curiosity Lecture</a> on the Soviet Union at the <a
                    href="http://www.swf.org.au/">Sydney Writers’
                    Festival</a> on May 24.</em></p>
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