Isaac Don Levine Served as Information Channel for Defector Krivitsky

By Constance Bell ·

Kept in the Security Service files on Soviet agents and suspects, a Russian-born journalist’s ties to a high-level defector remained a matter of state intelligence for years.

A man fleeing the Soviet apparatus risks everything to deliver secrets, while the intermediary who helps him is quietly catalogued by British intelligence. Isaac Don Levine spent his career translating the whispers of defectors into the language of Western security.

The file's catalogue entry records Levine under the Security Service's PF Series, a collection dedicated to "SOVIET INTELLIGENCE AGENTS AND SUSPECTED AGENTS." It is a stark place for a journalist to reside, but for the British security apparatus, the line between a professional observer and a state asset was often a matter of historical suspicion. In the world of the Security Service, there was no such thing as a forgotten association.

"Probably once a Communist"

The catalogue entry describes Levine as a Russian-born American who was "probably once a Communist and sympathetic to the Soviet Union." This qualifier—probably—is the hallmark of the intelligence file: a gap where a confession or a document should be, filled instead by a professional estimate based on a subject's orbit.

For the Security Service, the pivot point in Levine's trajectory occurred in 1924. During a visit to the United Kingdom, Levine shifted from his suspected sympathies toward the Kremlin to promoting "the cause of political prisoners in Russia." To a diplomatic historian, this represents a moral awakening; to a counter-intelligence officer, it represents a change in alignment that warrants a permanent record. In the eyes of the state, an ideological defection is rarely a clean break; it is a transition that requires lifelong monitoring to ensure the new loyalty is genuine.

Krivitsky in 1939

By 1939, Levine had evolved from an ideological critic into a functional asset for the West. The file's catalogue entry records that he acted as a "translator and, more generally, as channel of information" for an "important Soviet defector" named Krivitsky.

Defectors are the most volatile currency in the information war. They carry the blueprints of the enemy's intentions, but they also carry the baggage of their former masters. Levine provided the linguistic and social bridge that allowed Krivitsky's intelligence to cross into British hands. This was not merely a matter of translation, but of vetting the validity of a man who had once been part of the machine he was now betraying. By serving as a channel, Levine became an essential cog in the machinery of Western intelligence, yet his role as a middleman only deepened the Security Service's interest in his own background.

KV 2/3786

The utility of a man like Krivitsky extended beyond high-level policy into the identification of sleepers and agents. Other records from the same Security Service series show the granular nature of these betrayals. In file KV 2/3786, the Security Service notes that Krivitsky named Philip Rosenbliett, an American dentist, as a Soviet agent in the USA. According to US authorities, Rosenbliett had already vanished into Russia by 1936, illustrating the lag between an agent's activity and the West's comprehension of it.

The Security Service operated a broad net for such figures, treating ideological drift as a primary indicator of risk. File KV 4/334 outlines the formal "Procedure for bringing to the UK alien defectors from Russian Intelligence Services," treating the arrival of these men as a logistical operation of state security rather than a simple diplomatic gesture.

This systemic vigilance extended to any individual with the right pedigree. File KV 2/4371 records the case of Ian Frank George Milner, a New Zealander and British national who joined the Australian Department of External Affairs and the United Nations Secretariat. Milner came to the attention of the authorities due to "communist associations in his university days." Like Levine, Milner found that the associations of youth provide a permanent shadow in the files of the Security Service.

Whether it was a German soldier like Franz Riemann, who allegedly worked for the Russians after his 1948 arrest (KV 2/3778), or a Tass correspondent like Victor Nicolaevich Antonov, whose reports on atomic tests were flagged by a defector (KV 2/4516), the goal was total visibility. Levine’s presence in these files reflects the permanent suspicion cast upon those who lived in the periphery of the Soviet world. Despite his public life as an anticommunist writer and his private work as a bridge for defectors, the record reflects a different status: he remained, in the archival classification of the Security Service, a "suspected agent."