A Very Aggressive Man

A Tale of Two Coups

In the early hours of January 17, 1961, Congo leader Patrice Lumumba and two other political prisoners were forcibly taken from their cells at Camp Hardy. They were subjected to brutal mistreatment during a harrowing flight, prompting the French pilot to chastise the guards for beating the prisoners, as the violence threatened the stability of the small aircraft. During a second flight, the violence increased; the prisoners’ heads were wrapped in tape and they were forced to kneel while the guards administered kicks and hit them with rifles. The tape on Lumumba briefly came loose and he could hear the voice of someone he knew. “Jonas, my brother,” he called out, but the beatings continued and the guards pulled out Lumumba’s hair, forcing him to swallow it. The Belgian, French, and Australia crew of the plane were greatly disturbed and the radio operator vomited. The pilot left the cockpit to again warn that their actions risked making the plane unstable, the co-pilot coaxing the abusers: “Say, we have to hand Lumumba over alive.” After they arrived in Élisabethville, Katanga, they were met by more hostile officials and soldiers. Blindfolded, bound, and beaten, the prisoners were loaded into a jeep and driven away, disappearing from public view and marking the beginning of the final chapter in Lumumba’s captivity.

In the preceding months, Lumumba had seen hope for reinstatement as Prime Minister. However, he was struck by personal tragedy when his newborn daughter died after a premature birth, and her body was mishandled by soldiers and lost during transport. Politically, Lumumba’s support eroded after a violent standoff between Congolese troops and UN forces at the Ghanaian embassy, prompted by Ghana’s continued support for him. This resulted in the expulsion of Ghanaian diplomats, cutting off a vital external link for Lumumba. Ghana’s President Kwame Nkrumah sent the recently inaugurated President John F. Kennedy a letter on January 23, requesting his intervention to secure the release of Lumumba. Kennedy’s reply six days later did not make any commitments or mention Lumumba’s name.

Asking the Wrong Man

At the tail-end of the Eisenhower administration, Richard Bissell at the CIA was frustrated with the lack of progress in killing Lumumba. In 1960, the Agency’s Technical Services had already delivered poison to the local Chief of Station, Larry Devlin, to be inserted “into food, drink, toothpaste, or anything else that Lumumba might ingest.” In addition, Devlin asked for a high-powered rifle with a telescopic sight and silencer to accomplish the job, writing to headquarters obliquely that “hunting [is] good here when [the] lights [are] right.”

With this effort stalled, Bissell, the Deputy Director for Plans (DDP), turned to William K. Harvey, in charge of Staff D, ostensibly a code breaking group, tasked with “break[ing] into safes and kidnap[ping] couriers.” As with other groups at the CIA such as the Office of Security, they were also being drawn into assassination operations. Harvey passed Bissell on to his deputy, Justin O’Donnell. Bissell had no way of knowing that O’Donnell was not the ideal candidate to ask to carry out an assassination on behalf of the U.S. government. Later, when the CIA examined his personnel file, they found a handwritten memo from O’Donnell in 1955 entitled “Reasons Why I Think I Am Being Made a Target,” which explained how, in his view, he was being made an Agency scapegoat. Another memo from that year also showed “instances of paranoia and intemperate acts,” according to the Agency.

After being asked by Bissell to travel to the Congo that very evening through Europe to “eliminate” Lumumba, O’Donnell surprised him by refusing and raising the issue that a “conspiracy to commit murder being done in the District of Columbia might be in violation of federal law.” Bissell later remarked: “In hindsight, I was an idiot to even ask him.” Instead, O’Donnell proposed an alternate plan to lure Lumumba out of UN protection that could still result in his death, as he testified in 1975:

O’Donnell: [W]hat I wanted to do was to get him out, to trick him out, if I could, and then turn him over…to the legal authorities and let him stand trial. Because he had [an] atrocity attributed to him for which he could very well stand trial.

Q: And for which he could very well have received capital punishment?

O’Donnell: Yes. And I am not opposed to capital punishment.

O’Donnell landed in Léopoldville on November 3, 1960, after which Devlin, the Chief of Station, told him about the “virus in the safe” delivered from headquarters. Without being given much context, O’Donnell could easily figure out what it was for: “I knew it wasn’t for somebody to get his polio shot up to date.” O’Donnell was to bring along Andre Mankel, a CIA asset known by the code name QJWIN, whom he described as “not a man of many scruples.” Mankel, a French speaker with a criminal background, was to help kidnap Lumumba by impersonating a UN soldier. The plot never came off, with O’Donnell left to ponder the actions he had been requested to take.

Later that year, O’Donnell attended a meeting chaired by Tracy Barnes, then the Acting DDP, wherein he outlined a series of grievances. He claimed there had been Communist penetrations of the DDP branch and also of the Soviet Russia Division, which he proposed was why the Division had lost a number of agents. He also brought up being asked by the former DDP to go to Congo and assassinate Lumumba, explaining how this “was basically wrong” and how he fought this idea. According to the CIA, O’Donnell was asked several times to name names and put his allegations in writing, but he refused. O’Donnell was fired after several meetings with Director Allen Dulles “failed to resolve his allegations.” O’Donnell soon went to work for the Department of Defense and by September 1962 the Agency noted that he appeared to be on a personal quest to denigrate the Agency, reflecting “his hatred for the CIA which he exhibited continuously.” The CIA concluded he was “a disgruntled former employee, grinding his ax against the Agency for their failure to believe his unsubstantiated claims of a penetration and other ‘wrongs’ he feels were perpetrated against him.”

Despite the Agency being bitter about O’Donnell and vice versa, his involvement with Lumumba provided them with a useful cover: his refusal to participate directly in an assassination plot was used in briefings for CIA Director William Colby in 1975 and was peppered in his public speeches for years thereafter. A 1975 summary sent to Colby to prepare him for congressional testimony left out any mention of the poison and rifles delivered to assassinate Lumumba, focusing on O’Donnell’s refusal: “the proposed operation was never carried out because the designated CIA case officer declined the assignment.” William R. Corson recorded the following tribute to his friend O’Donnell in his 1977 book The Armies of Ignorance: “’OD,’ as he is known to hundreds in the intelligence community, is an exceptional person whose career as an intelligence professional is living testimony that the successful pursuit of intelligence is not incompatible with the preservation, protection and defense of our Republic and our personal freedoms.”

Recognition

Devlin met with Colonel Joseph Mobutu shortly after President Joseph Kasa-Vubu had dismissed Prime Minister Lumumba in September 1960. Although Devlin barely knew Mobutu, they were now discussing sensitive political matters affecting the future of the country. Mobutu revealed plans to eliminate Lumumba—first by orchestrating a mob lynching, then by proposing a coup to install a technocratic regime under his control. Devlin, despite lacking formal authority, reached out his hand after Mobutu explained he could not afford to wait: “I guarantee you American support,” Devlin pledged. Mobutu requested $5,000 ($54,000 today) to secure loyalty from fellow officers; the following day, Devlin delivered to him a briefcase full of cash.

After facing arrest in Léopoldville, Lumumba planned to flee to Stanleyville, where he had strong political support and could potentially regroup to reclaim power. Despite warnings from allies urging him to stay and wait for a UN-mediated resolution, Lumumba decided to escape by road with his family and aides on November 27. The journey was slow and fraught with difficulties, including vehicle troubles, ferry crossings, and delays caused by impromptu public appearances that exposed his location. Late one evening, when the ferry was parked on the opposite end of a river, Lumumba took his own canoe across the waterway to ask the ferrymen to transport his entourage. They had a difficult time believing the sweaty, disheveled man before them was the Prime Minister. “We know Lumumba well,” a ferryman replied. “He always wears suits and glasses. But you? Here you are in a sport shirt.” Lumumba had to show them his identity cards for them to believe him and take the group across the river.

Despite efforts to evade capture by altering routes and using disguises, Lumumba was eventually spotted by reconnaissance planes and local informants. Nearing Stanleyville, his convoy was intercepted by Armée Nationale Congolaise (ANC) soldiers. “You don’t have the right to order me around,” he claimed. “If this earth drinks my blood, it will mean your own destruction.” Now in ANC custody riding in a truck with his hands tied behind his back, Lumumba saw a group of peacekeepers as they approached a UN camp. “Lieutenant, I am the Prime Minister!” Lumumba exclaimed at a British officer from the rear of the truck. “I request United Nations protection.” The officer looked at Lumumba, put out his cigarette, and went inside a house. The memory haunted Romano Ledda, an Italian journalist at the scene: “Whenever people now say that the UN could do nothing to prevent Lumumba’s arrest, that its representatives did their utmost to stop his illegal detention, I remember that UN lieutenant, his haughty, indifferent face and the boot slowly crushing a smoking cigarette.”

On December 2, Lumumba was brought to Léopoldville (now Kinshasa) in a humiliating and violent manner, publicly displayed and tortured by Mobutu’s soldiers before being transferred to a remote prison. U.S. diplomat and Mobutu supporter Clare H. Timberlake lamented that “While press accounts will be bad enough, movie recordings of these scenes will undoubtedly be picture of the year and will be a gift of an atomic bomb to the Soviet bloc and friends.” He doubted that “the television agencies concerned could be prevailed upon to suppress the pictures” but suggested they try in any case. Despite international concern, including urgent warnings from the UN Secretary-General Dag Hammarskjöld to Congolese President Kasa-Vubu, the latter dismissed the pleas, insisting Lumumba’s treatment was a domestic matter justified by alleged crimes.

Meanwhile, the CIA’s ongoing plot to assassinate Lumumba continued despite his imprisonment. A newly deployed agent, David Tzitzichvili (code-named WIROGUE), proved reckless and undisciplined, undermining CIA efforts. Eventually, the CIA’s assassination plans fizzled out; the operation’s leadership passed to Mobutu, who publicly declared to the press: “Lumumba is completely finished.” To Lumumba he smirked: “Well! You swore you’d have my skin, but now I have yours!”

Lumumba’s Fate

After being transferred to Katanga, Patrice Lumumba and his close political allies Maurice Mpolo and Joseph Okito were held in a commandeered Belgian bungalow under heavy guard. They were subjected to brutal torture by Belgian officers, Katangan soldiers, and government officials personally participated in the abuse. Wood splinters were forced under Lumumba’s toenails and fingernails; his head was bashed into a bidet. After expressing that he was thirsty, a soldier threw a bucket of water at his face: “Here, have a drink.” When told he would soon be dead, Lumumba replied: “At the point where I am, it doesn’t matter.” A Belgian lieutenant who witnessed the aftermath of the torture sessions recalled: “I remember being struck by his dignity.”

Later that night, the three prisoners were taken to a remote clearing where they were executed by a firing squad of separatist Katangan forces. Their bodies were hastily buried in a shallow grave. To cover up the murders, Katangan officials ordered the exhumation and reburial of the bodies in a more remote location. Unsatisfied, they later commissioned Belgian police commissioner Gerard Soete and his team to dismember and dissolve the remains using sulfuric acid and fire, attempting to eliminate all physical traces. Soete kept some remaining body parts of Lumumba, including one of his fingers and a gold-capped molar. “After January 1961, he was no longer the man he used to be,” Soete’s daughter remembered.

50 Minutes

Just over four years later, on April 2, 1965, William P. Mahoney spent 50 minutes meeting with Ghanaian President Nkrumah. Mahoney had been the U.S. Ambassador to Ghana since 1962, but he did not expect his role to last much longer. When Nkrumah asked about his family, he replied: “[I’m] not sure, my future [is a] little uncertain, [I] may not be here long enough warrant their return.” Mahoney had a message to deliver to Nkrumah regarding the deteriorating U.S.-Ghana relationship. The U.S. government was “very disturbed,” Mahoney explained, by a speech Nkrumah had given less than two weeks before, which he termed as an “unfriendly attack” on the United States. Mahoney wanted to read key “offensive passages” of the speech to him. “This [is] not necessary,” Nkrumah replied, knowing very well the contents of his own words. Mahoney persisted nonetheless, saying it was “grossly unfair” for the U.S. to be compared with the Belgium’s history in the Congo. Mahoney indicated that the U.S. had only been in the Congo “since 1960” and was there “to help [the] Congolese.” While Mahoney was now accustomed to the Ghanaian press’ attacks, he was personally “shocked” to hear these words come directly out of Nkrumah’s mouth. Nkrumah replied that he had a “special purpose in mind” when he gave the speech. The speech had to be “strong” given the “seriousness [of the] situation” in the Congo with the crisis then underway. Mahoney did not budge: this was no reason “not [to] be fair,” he countered, portraying Nkrumah as unfair to the U.S.: “why criticize everything we do?”

Mahoney was particularly aggrieved by Nkrumah’s use in his speech of terms such as “racist,” “hatred,” and “fascist” in his speech to describe the United States, that “no cruelty [was] being spared in [the] Congo.” A year ago, Mahoney reminded him, Nkrumah had described how he had admonished the Ghanaian press for using “offensive epithets,” and now he was personally speaking in the same manner. “I would never have believed that [a] man of [your] sophistication and refinement would use language like that,” Mahoney admonished, adding that it “shock[ed]” him to “hear him do so.” Nkrumah responded that he was aware that the U.S. was “backing self-determination for Africans and making [a] serious effort [to] solve [the] race problem at home.”

Nkrumah, who had been holding his face in his hands, looked up to reveal that he had been crying. He explained that Mahoney could not understand the ordeal he had been through during the last month, mentioning that there had been seven attempts on his life in the past few years. Mahoney responded that the speech had been heard throughout the world and that “damage had been done” to their relations that they “might not be able [to] repair.” Referencing Nkrumah’s mention of the Congo being turned into “another Vietnam” by the United States, the U.S. government was “sick of this” rhetoric, Mahoney explained. Attempting to change the subject, Nkrumah interjected: “You know, you have great country—the only one that can lead world to peace.” Mahoney commented that one would not guess this from what he said and Nkrumah replied, “But it is what I believe. You can work with [the] Russians.” When Nkrumah closed by saying that Africa was falling apart, Mahoney indicated that “we [are] sick of being made [the] whipping boy by certain African states because of their own difficulties, largely brought on by themselves,” adding “we [have] had about enough of it.” Tears still in his eyes, Nkrumah made a few warm remarks about his personal relationship with the ambassador.

Mahoney wrote a summary of the meeting in a telegram back to the U.S. State Department, commenting that “While Nkrumah apparently continues have personal affection for me, he seems as convinced as ever US is out to get him. From what he said about assassination attempts in March, it appears he still suspects US involvement…Nkrumah gave me [the] impression of being [a] badly frightened man. His emotional resources seem be running out. As pressures increase, we may expect more hysterical outbursts, many directed against US.” The following month, Mahoney was out of the ambassador role, but the U.S. work to remove Nkrumah continued.

The Ghana Coup

While the U.S. had been monitoring assassination and coup attempts against Nkrumah since he took office in 1960, according to declassified files, U.S. discussion of overthrowing Nkrumah began during John McCone’s tenure as CIA Director. In February 1963, CIA Director John McCone questioned “Ghana and Nkrumah’s attitude,” particularly his “violent criticism” of the United States, in light of U.S. support of projects such as the Volta River Dam, which was designed primarily to generate electricity for the aluminum industry in Ghana. The Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs G. Mennen Williams replied that “it would work out over a long period.” A year later, however, at a luncheon discussion on February 6, 1964 between McCone and Secretary of State Dean Rusk, the topic of Ghana came up featuring a different intent. According to McCone’s summary of the meeting, Rusk “raised the question of the ability of General [Joseph Arthur Ankrah] to take over the government. I advised that the General, in our opinion, was well respected in Ghana, but not inclined to accept responsibility.” The summary included the following action for McCone to take: “Rusk asked that I explore this prospect fully and report to him.” Nkrumah happened to write to President Johnson that month decrying the presence of the CIA in his country, stating the Agency “seems to devote all its attention to fomenting ill-will, misunderstanding and even clandestine and subversive activities among our people, to the impairment of the good relations which exist between our two Governments.”

In 1965, Nkrumah took his criticisms further in authoring the book Neo-Colonialism: The Last Stage of Imperialism. The CIA’s internal review of the book critically examined Nkrumah’s central thesis that Western powers—particularly the United States—continued to dominate African nations through economic, political, and military influence after formal colonialism ended. Nkrumah argued that multinational corporations, international financial institutions (like the International Monetary Fund and World Bank), and foreign aid were tools of control, allowing former colonial powers to exploit African resources and maintain indirect rule. He accused the U.S. of leading this new form of domination, replacing European imperialists with American economic and military interests through institutions such as the U.S. Information Agency, the U.S. Agency for International Development, the Peace Corps, and the CIA. Copies of the book were forwarded to four groups in the CIA, including the covert operation branches, “for study and whatever action these components consider advisable.”

In McCone’s office, the CIA Director, Ambassador Mahoney, and the CIA Africa Division Deputy Chief met on March 11, 1965 discussed political and economic developments in Ghana. Mahoney reported that dissatisfaction with Nkrumah was growing and the country’s economy was fragile. He mentioned a possible coup being planned by Acting Police Commissioner John Willie Kofi Harlley and Generals Stephen Otu and Ankrah, but noted uncertainty about its execution, as the Deputy Chief wrote: “the top coup conspirators were scheduled to meet on 10 March at which time they would determine the timing of the coup; however, because of a tendency to procrastinate, any specific date they set should be accepted with reservations.” Still, Mahoney believed Nkrumah would likely be out of power within a year, to be replaced initially by a military junta led by Harlley.

Regarding economic aid, Mahoney strongly advised against granting Nkrumah’s anticipated request for U.S. financial assistance. He believed this refusal would further weaken Nkrumah and send a positive signal to other African nations, while also doubting the Chinese or Soviets would offer sufficient aid. He supported continuing existing U.S. aid and Peace Corps involvement but endorsed a tough stance on new aid, believing that Britain would also adopt a similar “hard nose” attitude towards additional financial assistance.

By May, the White House’s National Security Council was reporting that “we may have a pro-Western coup in Ghana soon. Certain key military and police figures have been planning one for some time, and Ghana's deteriorating economic condition may provide the spark. The plotters are keeping us briefed, and State thinks we’re more on the inside than the British.” The staffer Robert W. Komer continued with what he believed to be the West’s contribution: “While we’re not directly involved (I’m told), we and other Western countries (including France) have been helping to set up the situation by ignoring Nkrumah’s pleas for economic aid…All in all, looks good.”

In fact, the military coup in Ghana which overthrew Nkrumah took another nine months and was led by Colonel Emmanuel Kwasi Kotoka and Major Akwasi Afrifa, with support from Police Commissioner Harlley. The conspirators planned the coup to take place while Nkrumah was traveling on a diplomatic trip to Peking and Hanoi. They enlisted General Ankrah to lead the new regime. On February 24, 1966, military and police forces swiftly executed the coup, taking over key installations, including the radio station, where Kotoka announced the government takeover: “we shall not tolerate any interference from any foreign country,” the coup leaders claimed. The coup was violent—General Charles Barwah was murdered, and rumors were used to manipulate illiterate soldiers into compliance. Nkrumah’s family was forcibly deported to Egypt, his home and offices were looted, and loyalist soldiers and civilians were brutalized. The new U.S. Ambassador, Franklin H. Williams, praised the “bloodless” takeover.

Western governments, including Britain and the U.S., quickly recognized the new regime. Mass arrests followed, targeting officials, intellectuals, and perceived loyalists. Repressive actions, including censorship, torture, and deportations, were widespread, although largely overlooked by the international press. Komer wrote to President Johnson weeks later that “the new military regime is almost pathetically pro-Western.”

Robert P. Smith, who worked on the Ghana desk for the U.S. State Department, traced the seeds of the coup back to Kkrumah’s 1965 book: “I think Nkrumah dropped the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak, in that he published a new book called Neo-Colonialism…It accused the United States of every sin imaginable to man. We were blamed for everything in the world.” Assistant Secretary G. Mennen Williams called him up and gave him his marching orders: “Bob, I know this is bad. I don’t know how bad. I want you to take it home tonight and read it. You’re not going to get any sleep and I apologize for that, but on my desk, by eight o’clock tomorrow morning, I’ve got to have a written summary of this because I have called the Ghanaian ambassador in at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. We’re going to protest this book.” Smith described the meeting in which this protest against the book was lodged:

And the next morning—of course, he had me in on this meeting as the note taker—a lovely, old man, [Miguel Augustus Francisco] Ribiero, was the Ghanaian ambassador. Hated Nkrumah privately, but was a good soldier trying to put the best face on this, a career officer in their foreign service and very respected here and in Ghana. Governor Williams, of course, was a relatively mild-mannered man. I had never heard Soapy Williams raise his voice until that conversation. Neither have I ever heard an ambassador get a tongue lashing like Ribiero got from Assistant Secretary Williams that morning. He, unfortunately, tried a couple times to interrupt the governor when he was making a point. He had my notes in front of him. And at one point, when Ribiero interrupted him, said, “Just a minute, Mr. Ambassador, don’t interrupt me. I’m not through.” And he continued to go on. He was raising his voice. He was shaking his finger in the ambassador’s face. And it was a very painful, hour-long interview. To put it mildly, he protested vigorously the contents and publication of this book.

I think the publication of that book might also have contributed in a material way to his overthrow shortly thereafter.

At 2 a.m. on the morning of the coup, Smith was awakened by a call from the office instructing him to set up a task force to monitor developments at the State Department. Six hours later, Secretary of State Dean Rusk wandered in to ask: “I’ve seen the early reports, but I just want to hear it firsthand. What’s going on in Ghana?” When Smith reported that Nkrumah had been informed during a stop-over in Peking by Chinese officials of the coup, Rusk’s face “broke into an ear-splitting grin,” Smith recalled. “I’ve never seen him look so happy.”

In 1978, the public first heard of the CIA’s involvement in advising and supporting the army officers who carried out the coup. In May 1978, former CIA officer John Stockwell published in his book In Search of Enemies a brief account of what he learned of the coup from his “egotistical friend,” Howard Bane, who had been the CIA Chief of Station in Accra, Ghana during the coup. Stockwell had been stationed in the neighboring Ivory Coast at the time and learned that CIA officers had been careful to not leave a paper trail of their involvement in the coup: “[T]he CIA station in Ghana played a major in the overthrow of Kwame Nkrumah in 1966…cables and dispatches infer that all contracts with the plotters were undertaken solely to obtain intelligence on what they were doing.” Seymour Hersh’s article in the May 9, 1978 edition of the New York Times referenced his book and reported that approval for the coup had been sought from the 303 Committee, a subcommittee of the National Security Council in the White House. The group, intentionally renamed to be “utterly drab and innocuous” after its existence was revealed in the 1964 book The Invisible Government, denied a request from the CIA to plot Nkrumah’s overthrow. The article also revealed that Bane had requested from the senior ranks of the Agency approval to deploy “a small squad of paramilitary experts…to wear blackface and attack the Chinese Embassy during the coup, killing everyone there and destroying the building. The men also were to steal as much material as possible from the embassy’s code room.” This request was also turned down, which enraged the local CIA officers in Accra. “They didn’t have the guts to do it,” Bane was quoted as telling an associate. Stockwell later explained in a documentary how despite the lack of formal approval the local station was able to play “a major role in the overthrow”:

“A lot of other things happen in the world that’s sort of like somebody pushing a rock off a cliff. And the rock hits somebody, and then they step back and say, ‘I didn’t kill him. The rock killed him.’ And this is sort of what happened in Ghana. The Agency, to my knowledge, did not write a paper saying, ‘Let’s overthrow Nkrumah.’ The Chief of Station there was a very aggressive man and he became aware of the fact that there was a possibility of a coup developing and he knew the players, people in the army who were unhappy. And he began to report and to ask for encouragement, to encourage these men, and as I understand it, he was not given a formal permission to attempt to overthrow Nkrumah. But he was given permission to monitor the developments of any coup. And this gave him an excuse to meet these officers often daily, several times a day, and to give them money and in effect, to give them encouragement.”

After the coup, the Agency paid at least $100,000 for confiscated Soviet materials, including a camera disguised as a cigarette lighter, that were secretly shipped to the CIA in Langley, Virginia. It was not required for the Agency to disperse a lot of funds to the coup plotters as money was not their main motivator: “We didn’t have to pay them $5 million,” a source was quoted as saying. “It was in their interest to take over the country.” Bane was noted as being recognized for the coup’s success, transferring from the field to become promoted as chief of the African desk at CIA headquarters.

Further confirmation of the CIA’s involvement came decades later from an unlikely source: a CIA officer who worked on the operation, but according to the Agency’s official history had retired a decade prior.

“We’ve Got to Kill Nkrumah”