160792411
Jack Devine is better than James Bond. Maybe not in terms of whom one would rather be, but in terms of whom one would rather read about. And though “Good Hunting: An American Spymaster’s Story” deals in settings worthy of the world’s most famous spy — Afghanistan, Salvador Allende’s Chile and a junta-run Haiti, to name a few — it never removes its fingers from the human pulse behind the stories of clandestine affairs. From this approach grows an account of an unbelievable life that feels believable, one that reads without a hint of self-aggrandizement or ulterior PR motives. To drive home the story as all the more real, this American spymaster is from Philadelphia.
“James Bond doesn’t have a family,” Devine said, with a smile. “I deliberately included the family [aspects of the book] to create an appreciation for the human side of the business. It’s not James Bond that’s in the CIA; it’s your neighbor.”
Devine succeeds in this endeavor, and, early on in the book, a true Philadelphia family foundation is set — meeting his wife in Wildwood, working at the food distribution centers south of Packer Avenue and teaching social studies in Delaware County. It isn’t long, however, before Devine describes teaching his wife to duck behind their coffee table and use a shotgun in Santiago, Chile, as the country marched toward a military coup. This moment, which he described to me as his “biggest mistake,” is further elaborated on in the book and attributed to the numbness brought about by life in a dangerous environment.
“Good Hunting” is rife with such environments and in detailing them, Devine manages to explain complex situations with numerous players effectively. His greatest achievement, both in life and literature, is the introduction of the stinger anti-aircraft missile to mujahideen fighters battling the Russians in Afghanistan. Known by many today as “Charlie Wilson’s War,” this covert battle was run by Devine. Consisting of hundreds of millions in secret appropriations and the arming of 120,000 Afghan insurgents, it was the largest operation of its kind during the Cold War. Negotiating prices of AK-47s in Egypt, conversations with CIA Director William Casey, and perusals of open air gun markets in Northwest Pakistan are all part of this episode that changed the tide of the Cold War.
The operation’s success and its execution, from both political and tactical perspectives, stand as examples of ideal American foreign intervention for Devine. Compared to today, as American involvement in the Middle East beats on, the most startling difference may be that Texas democrat Charlie Wilson worked passionately toward success under a republican president. All together, a great deal was accomplished with relative speed.
“The beauty of this is that it was a republican president and a democratic congress working together. You had people on the ground that wanted to fight, and that’s the difference between what we have today in Iraq,” Devine said. “You really don’t want to support nation building in places where the indigenous people don’t want to put their lives on the line. But it wasn’t rogue. It was a very well-structured big program.”
Overall, the book is exceedingly straightforward and shines lights on many fables and popular notions of the CIA’s most high profile actions during the latter part of the 20th century. Devine’s time as the head of the Counternarcotics Center sheds light on the war on drugs that dominated the 1990s and would yield the capture and eventual death of cocaine kingpin Pablo Escobar. On multiple occasions throughout the book, Aldrich Ames, the Soviet mole who spilled secrets for nine years, crosses paths with the author, rubbing Devine the wrong way every time.
Aside from Ames and Afghanistan, one other consistent thread that runs through the entire memoir is Philadelphia. Devine still identifies with it more than any other city, and the book confirms Philly to be a clear part of his character. In a true homage to his origins, Devine harkens back to advice given to him by a Philly union boss during his time working at South Philly’s warehouses.
“He said never have a picture taken with a drink in your hand; always give a firm handshake, and take the first 30 minutes of your day to just think about the day ahead,” Devine recalled before noting that it’s advice he has constantly followed.
He still has the handshake of a Teamster, and if the book draws one conclusion about the man himself, it is that Devine is the working man’s spy, which is much better than the spy one may expect.
Contact the South Philly Review at editor@southphillyreview.com.
160792411
165258472
