From the Washington Post, February 3:
AN ARCTIC SPY MYSTERY
An arrest in Moscow shakes Norway’s far north
KIRKENES, Norway
Frode
Berg volunteered in a soup kitchen in rural Russia. He helped organize
an annual cross-border festival and ski race. His congregation supported
a new church in a Russian town just over the boundary line that divides
East from West.
Then the Russians arrested him and accused him of being a spy.
That an espionage mystery is unfolding here on the Arctic frontier confounds residents who didn’t expect to be swept up in the confrontation
between Russia and the West. On the snowbound shore of an icy fjord, a
three-decade experiment in building cross-border ties independent of
geopolitics now hangs in the balance.
Accusations that a retired border inspector was spying have jolted Kirkenes, Norway.
No
one in this Barents Sea port town, a 15-minute drive from the Russian
border, seems to know why the police arrested Berg, a 62-year-old
retired border inspector, near Moscow’s Red Square in December. His
lawyers say Berg stands accused of mailing envelopes with cash and spy
instructions addressed to a Moscow woman named Natalia and now faces a
virtually certain espionage conviction.
“I can guarantee you that he is not a spy,” said Kirkenes Mayor Rune Rafaelsen. “What I’m wondering is, has someone used him?”
The
case has received scant international attention, in part because the
Norwegian government has resisted the entreaties of Berg’s friends to
bring more public pressure to bear on the Kremlin. But it has jolted
Kirkenes, where residents say that Berg personified this remote region’s
efforts to foster bonds even after geopolitical tensions spiked in
recent years.
Did Russian spies set up Berg to provoke an international incident with Norway, a front-line member of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization?
Did
Norwegian intelligence use Berg as an unwitting courier in an operation
gone wrong? Or — in a scenario that Berg’s friends categorically rule
out — did he truly lead some kind of double life?
“He seemed to
be a nice guy,” said Arve Henriksen, a Kirkenes port agent who
specializes in Russian clients, among them the nine crab fishing boats
in the harbor outside his office window. “But then again, who really
knows anybody when it comes down to it?”
On Friday, a Moscow
judge extended Berg’s jail term for an additional three months as
Russia’s investigation of him continues. After the hearing, as Norwegian
journalists lobbed questions at him, Berg gripped the bars of his
courtroom cage and insisted he had been trapped.
“I feel really
misused,” Berg said, referring to unidentified people in Norway who his
lawyers say gave him the envelopes to mail. “I have been fighting
against hate and anger.”
For now, the only thing that seems clear
is that not even Kirkenes — liberated by the Soviets from the Nazis in
1944 and part of a Russia-Norway visa-free zone — can escape the
confrontation between Russia and the West. Schoolteacher Robert Nesje
realized that last weekend when he was keeping the time at a friendly
Russian-Norwegian swim meet and thought of his close friend Berg
imprisoned at the same moment in Moscow’s high-security Lefortovo
Prison.
“That’s kind of absurd. That’s kind of unreal,” Nesje said. “We feel that the Cold War is coming back.”
LEFT:
The Norilsk Nickel plant, where many Nikel, Russia, residents are
employed, is the source of environmental and health concerns. RIGHT: A
monument to Lenin sits in front of an empty building in Nikel.
Driving
south and east out of Kirkenes, travelers leave a prim Scandinavian
town where a hotel serves $220 crab dinners and arrive in the Russian
town of Nikel, where smoke billows out of a huge nickel plant and a bust
of Lenin still stands sentry. The region’s coordinator for
international affairs, Tatiana Bazanova, said Berg participated
“everywhere and in everything” when it came to cross-border projects and
that his case could cast a shadow on all of them.
“If he was
truly a spy,” Bazanova said, “it would turn out that all our cooperation
is a cover for various operations. Then people might say that I’m
undercover.”
Berg came to Kirkenes — on the front line of the
original Cold War — as a military officer in 1975. Weekly, he drilled in
preparation for a Soviet invasion, training in the use of defensive
fire on tanks and helicopters, he recalled in an interview last year for
an art project about the border region.
He switched to the
border commission in 1990, and in the ensuing quarter-century lived
Western hopes for a closer relationship with Russia. He went out on
joint patrols with Russian counterparts and ate and fished with them
after meetings. He helped arrange an annual ski race for Russians, Finns
and Norwegians passing through the normally off-limits border strip.
After he retired in 2014, he joined the board of a Kirkenes art
organization, Pikene pa Broen, that focuses on cross-border exchange.
The efforts of Berg and
others pushing for closer ties paid off. Russian fishing and oil firms
flocked to the Kirkenes port and shipyards, and Russian shoppers sought
out cheap diapers and other Western goods. An agreement allowing
visa-free travel for residents near the border came into force in 2012.
Border crossings surged from around 2,000 a year in 1990 to a high of
320,000 in 2013.
Daily
buses now run between Kirkenes and Russia’s northern port city of
Murmansk. Travelers wind past Russian military bases hidden in the hills
and snow-sheathed barbed-wire fences that, in late January, are bathed
in the pink light of the Arctic afternoon.
“I’m not afraid of
Russia,” Berg said in the interview. “I know the history. I know the
Russians very well. And I have no problem with them.”
According to the official line in Moscow, it was all a lie.
“Can
such a good-hearted European pensioner be a spy?” asked a December
report about Berg on Russian state television. “An investigation by
Russian intelligence shows that this is very much possible.”
Berg’s
version of the story, according to his lawyers, is that an Oslo
acquaintance introduced him to another Norwegian who asked him to take
3,000 euros in cash to Moscow in December and send it to someone named
Natalia. On Dec. 5, when Berg was on his way to the post office with the
cash, Russian authorities arrested him....MORE