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Dena Temple-Raston
From Recorded Future News and prx, this is Click Here. Hey there, it's Dena. The Click Here team is taking a break from producing brand new episodes this month, so we can get ahead on some of the stories we want to bring you in 2024. So we started going through the archives, and we have a story we thought would be perfect for the holiday season. It's about a group of musicians who went behind the Iron curtain in the mid-1980s and smuggled out secret information with coded music. Take A listen. It's 1985 in Soviet Russia. Mikhail Gorbachev is the head of the Communist Party, and his great opening to the west, glasnost and perestroika, is still just a glimmer in his eye. 1985 was still the time of that old Soviet Union, the one with defections and the kgb. And into this world stepped the most unlikely of people, four members of a klezmer ensemble from Boston. Klezmer is a kind of Jewish folk music.
Meryl Goldberg
It's secular music, and if you've heard Fiddler on the Roof, it's kind of in that style, but more authentic.
Dena Temple-Raston
Meryl Goldberg is a professor of music at Cal State San Marcos, and that's her on the saxophone. But back in the day, she was part of a pretty famous klezmer ensemble called the Klezmer Conservatory Band. And they had heard about a group in the Soviet Union that went by a very intriguing name, the Phantom Orchestra.
Meryl Goldberg
So we first heard of the Phantom Orchestra through the network of people who were working in the 80s, trying to help people escape from the Soviet Union.
Dena Temple-Raston
They were musicians like them.
Meryl Goldberg
We started thinking we ought to find out about these people.
Dena Temple-Raston
These musicians were known as refuseniks because they wanted to leave the Soviet Union, but the authorities refused to give them permission.
Meryl Goldberg
They were called the Phantom Orchestra because they really were. Had to play somewhat in secret, right? So if they had gone out and decided, oh, we're going to play in the park, they would have been picked up and arrested. Most of them had already been either imprisoned or beat up or had a lot of issues already.
Dena Temple-Raston
They'd gotten fired from their jobs, drummed out of academic and professional associations, and. And would even get beaten up just for declaring openly that they wanted to immigrate. So when the opportunity of actually going to the Soviet Union presented itself, it all struck a chord with Meryl and her friends in the klezmer group.
Meryl Goldberg
My friend Hank is Netsky, who is a wonderful musician and teaches at New England Conservatory of Music, where I was.
Dena Temple-Raston
A student and he approached her with this crazy idea.
Meryl Goldberg
The actual ask was to go over to the Soviet Union in secret, essentially, and meet with refuseniks mostly, you know, focus in on the Phantom Orchestra members and to find out information about what they were doing, who they were, how they wanted their stories to get out.
Dena Temple-Raston
They were four simple musicians from Boston. A saxophonist, a singer, a guitarist, an accordion player, and they were going to go toe to toe with one of the world's largest secret police forces.
Meryl Goldberg
So when he asked me, oh, my first reaction I think was, that sounds crazy cool. I'm in.
Dena Temple-Raston
I'm Dina Temple Rastin and this is Click Here. A podcast about all things cyber and intelligence. Today, at a time when Russian President Vladimir Putin is attempting to redraw the Iron Curtain, we're going to take you back behind it with a story about a very different kind of code than the zeros and ones we usually talk about. This code was made of music and it was used to smuggle distant messages in and out of the Soviet Union.
Meryl Goldberg
I remember thinking, we're musicians. Just creating a code in music would be the easiest way to go about this.
Dena Temple-Raston
Meryl will play us out.
Tim Harford
Do nice guys really finish last? I'm Tim Harford, host of the Cautionary Tales podcast, and I'm exploring that very question. Join me for my new miniseries on the art of fairness. From New York to Tahiti, we'll examine villains undone by their villainy, monstrous self devouring egos, and accounts of the extraordinary power of decency. Listen on the iHeartRadio app at Apple Podcasts or wherever you listen to podcasts.
Dena Temple-Raston
It's no small thing deciding to travel to the Soviet Union in the 1980s to secretly help people escape. Even if you were a trained spy, much less a musician from Boston. And you'd think their professions might actually be a liability. But in a weird way, it became a strength. It was the perfect cover story. An innocent looking cultural exchange. We're just some American musicians trying to bridge the cultural dividend in the 80s.
Meryl Goldberg
At that time, the more publicity a resheznik or dissident had, the more protection they would have from being imprisoned or beaten up or whatever would happen to them. But if the west knew about them, they had a better shot at getting out.
Dena Temple-Raston
So coding music to sneak out messages and details about people who are trying to escape wasn't a completely new idea. Meryl and her friends had a model, Josephine Baker. That's Baker singing. She was a Paris celebrity, a singer, a dancer, a bon vivant in the 1920s, 30s and 40s, she was famous for walking her pet cheetah down the Champs Elysees, and she also happened to be working for the French Resistance. She'd sing at parties, chat up important people, and then pass along what she'd learned to the Allies. Her dispatches were the stuff of legend. She'd learn details about German troop movements or supply lines and then smuggle the information out to the Allies by writing messages in invisible ink. She wrote on sheet music between the notes. In the 1980s, when Merrill was trying to work out how to bring coded messages into the Soviet Union, she went a step further. Her code was embedded in the music itself. I studied music in school, so I assumed she must have created something from the staff. Those five lines and four spaces that are the basis of musical notation are represented by letters. The five lines are E, G, B, D, and F. And the four spaces represent the notes F, A, C, E. Except that wouldn't get you the whole Alphabet.
Meryl Goldberg
You know, with the regular notes, you only have A through G. So then you have the problem of 26 letters with, you know, only eight notes. Although what I did without giving it away was I created a situation using chromatics.
Dena Temple-Raston
Chromatics, the 12 half steps, when you play the black and white keys on the piano.
Meryl Goldberg
And using different notes, figured out all 26. I had three leftover ones like XYZ, but you don't use XYZ all that much. So if someone knew music, they'd look at it and they'd think, huh, that's modern music.
Dena Temple-Raston
Is there anything that you have that you coded that you might be able to play for us so that we have some idea of what. What that would sound like?
Meryl Goldberg
Yeah, sure.
Dena Temple-Raston
So Meryl picks up her saxophone.
Meryl Goldberg
Here, I'll play a little bit for you.
Dena Temple-Raston
Believe it or not, there's actually the name of a dissonant coded in those notes.
Meryl Goldberg
This one was Intro to a new person that they wanted us to meet who was a musician. And it was for someone in Moscow.
Dena Temple-Raston
Merrill and Hankes and the other members of the klezmer band spent months preparing for the trip. It was more than just inventing a new way to code messages, though they did that, too. The people at the Action for Soviet Jewelry gave them a crash course in tradecraft.
Meryl Goldberg
We had to have several months of kind of a learning curve and figuring out how we would go in without giving up who we were.
Dena Temple-Raston
And it didn't take long to put all that to use. In fact, the group needed it as soon as they landed.
Meryl Goldberg
So we land in Moscow. And we get off the plane, people are talking in little, little microphones. And we think, uh, oh, uh, oh.
Dena Temple-Raston
Because the authorities seem to have been expecting them.
Hank Isnetsky
There were at least two of them. And they took us aside.
Dena Temple-Raston
That's Hank Isnetsky, the teacher who brought up this whole idea to Merrill.
Hank Isnetsky
And they told us to get our luggage, but not go anywhere. To bring the luggage into the, I guess, interrogation room.
Meryl Goldberg
Definitely we were flagged, there's no question about it.
Hank Isnetsky
And sit with an agent.
Meryl Goldberg
They start going through everything, and I mean absolutely everything, opening up every single thing we have, including Meryl's music. They're going page by page by page.
Dena Temple-Raston
She held her breath, kept their gaze. And then after what seemed like an.
Meryl Goldberg
Eternity, they just hand it right back to me. Oh, it was just really fantastic.
Dena Temple-Raston
It was seven hours before they were permitted to leave the airport.
Hank Isnetsky
There was one guy who spoke only in Russian and banged his fist on the table the entire time.
Dena Temple-Raston
When they were finally allowed to go, they had this sense that while the first hurdle was behind them, what lay ahead would be much harder. The Phantom Orchestra was based in Tbilisi, Georgia, which was still a Soviet republic at the time. The mission Merrill and Hankes and their friends had chosen to accept involved trying to meet up with four of its members. Two were from a well known family of Jewish dissidents, Grigori and Esai Goldstein, and the other two were calling for Georgian independence. Tenguis and Eduard Gudava, both of whom had been sentenced to years of hard labor for their activism. All four were considered enemies of the state, which meant they were definitely being watched and their phones were tapped. So it would be tricky for Meryl and her crew to make contact with them.
Meryl Goldberg
I had the directions to their apartment actually encoded in my music, and that's how we remembered how to get there. I'm sure we stuck out and we didn't know who to trust, who not to trust.
Dena Temple-Raston
What they did know was that someone was following them.
Hank Isnetsky
We noticed, for example, that we would walk up the street and the last car on the block would flash its lights, and then we'd cross the street, and then the first car on the next block would flash its lights, and then the same thing would happen on the next block. So it sure seemed like there was something going on. So I remember we went to our hotel room and interestingly enough, the sink was leaking.
Dena Temple-Raston
And they said as much out loud that it was too bad the sink was leaking.
Hank Isnetsky
And then when we got back from dinner, the sink was fixed. So that's how Closely. We were being monitored.
Dena Temple-Raston
Marilyn Hankes and the two other Klezmer band members, Jeff and Rosalie, found themselves in the middle of a Cold War thriller. They'd go to ballet and museums one day, hoping to throw the authorities off the scent and then rush off to go and meet dissidents the next, hoping their basic tradecraft wouldn't put their contacts in danger.
Meryl Goldberg
We devised in our young brains, which now seems kind of cuckoo, that all of us would get on the subway because we had to take a subway to get to the Goldstein's apartment first to make contact.
Dena Temple-Raston
The apartment was in Tbilisi, Georgia, and the directions to get there were buried in their musical notation code.
Meryl Goldberg
They didn't have a telephone. We couldn't call them. We had to just try to find them.
Dena Temple-Raston
So to lose whoever was following them, they came up with what they thought was an ingenious plan.
Meryl Goldberg
And so we're all going to get on the subway, and then we're all going to get off, and Rosalie and I are going to jump back on.
Dena Temple-Raston
Then the tail would have to choose between the two groups.
Meryl Goldberg
And we thought it worked.
Dena Temple-Raston
They spent hours walking around buildings and doubling back and climbing darkened stairwells until finally they find themselves at the door of an apartment.
Hank Isnetsky
And they knock, and Esai Goldstein opened the door. And the Goldsteins were the first family that we visited.
Meryl Goldberg
First thing we say is, we think we've outwitted them, but, you know, we've been interrogated. Tell us if you want us just to turn around and go away.
Hank Isnetsky
Gregory Goldstein walks over to the window. There were four cars he pointed to. He said, these are all kgb.
Meryl Goldberg
And they laughed at us like, of course you're being followed. And please come in, because it's way more important for you to come in. We need you to visit. We need you to tell our story.
Dena Temple-Raston
When we come back. A secret concert with a Phantom Orchestra.
Meryl Goldberg
Probably the most profound music making I have ever in my entire life made.
Dena Temple-Raston
For recorded future news, this is Click Here. I'm Dina Temple Rouston. The Phantom Orchestra, of course, couldn't play openly in a concert hall. I thought they'd be playing in some secret venue after hours, but they actually had their concerts in an apartment, the Gudavas apartment.
Meryl Goldberg
Typical small apartment. They had an upright piano and a couple music stands. And the Godavas had at least one guitar, maybe two.
Dena Temple-Raston
The musicians gathered along with an audience of neighbors.
Hank Isnetsky
The chairs went into the other room. I remember, and. And the idea was, hey, look, we have visitors. They're musicians. It's time for the Phantom Orchestra to come meet and play a concert in the room.
Dena Temple-Raston
There was a palpable mix of excitement and a little fear. It wasn't about playing music with the Phantom Orchestra that frightened them. They were all pros at that. It was about what might follow. The consequences of an impromptu concert with a room full of dissidents.
Meryl Goldberg
And I think making music in and of itself is not such a big deal. Of course, it was the people who they were making music with that made it into a really big deal.
Dena Temple-Raston
Were you waiting for the KGB to burst in any moment? What was going through your 26 year old head?
Meryl Goldberg
My 26 year old head was like living in the moment. I will tell you that Meryl and.
Dena Temple-Raston
Hans remembered the whole evening as if it were yesterday.
Meryl Goldberg
I do remember just being transported. That it was this feeling perhaps of amazement, of relief, of immediate camaraderie.
Dena Temple-Raston
There was klezmer music and traditional songs. And then this moment when everything seemed to come together with the standard that everyone loved. And then everyone who was there, the members of the orchestra, the visiting musicians, the audience, they all broke into song. What you're hearing now is actually a Phantom Orchestra recording.
Meryl Goldberg
It touched us in a way that I hadn't been touched before. And I think because the whole feeling of the song Somewhere over the Rainbow and the hope in that and for.
Dena Temple-Raston
An evening, the Soviet minders, the cloak and dagger, the coded messages, they all faded away and the music became all there was.
Meryl Goldberg
For the people there who had so much courage and, you know, were constantly battling, you know, whatever was going to happen to them for their activism. Playing music was the time when in their brains they could be totally 100% free.
Hank Isnetsky
There was a lot of emotion when we played with the Phantom Orchestra, not just from them, but from the audience. And we were really floating when we left that room that night.
Dena Temple-Raston
As they went back out into the night, they tried to recall all the details that they would later code into their music. What they would eventually tell the world was going on behind the Iron Curtain. A marriage announcement here, a family history there. And the hope was once the world knew they existed, they'd have the leverage they needed to force officials in the Soviet Union to let them go.
Meryl Goldberg
And I think that's part of what the goal of many of the folks was, is, you know, if your story is never told, it's like it hasn't happened. So it was really important to get stories out there. It means you exist and other people know you exist.
Dena Temple-Raston
As they left the Godavas house that night, Meryl and Her friends were more than just musicians. They were messengers. And now they just had to get home. Not long after the secret concert, the Boston musicians awoke to an early morning call at the hotel.
Meryl Goldberg
We were told to be down in the office at, you know, whatever time. It was pretty early, and they hand us a baggie.
Dena Temple-Raston
They were the Soviet authorities with a.
Meryl Goldberg
Tea bag and a hard boiled egg and a piece of salami, I think, and maybe some crackers. And they keep us very separated from everybody else.
Dena Temple-Raston
Their minders made clear they knew that Meryl and Hankes and the others had met with the Phantom Orchestra and they weren't happy about it. They took their passports, put them into cars and just started driving.
Meryl Goldberg
And then they drove us for what seemed to be like hours and hours. And I thought, oh man, now they're really going to do it. They're going to lock us up.
Dena Temple-Raston
Hours later they ended up at the airport. And while they didn't end up in a Soviet prison, they were told they were going to be thrown out of the country, deported. But before they could go, there would be one more search. Though this time the four actually had even more to hide. Not just the names and addresses of contacts, but now they had their stories and messages for the West.
Meryl Goldberg
I remember being surrounded by military and they go through all of our stuff again and again. They went through every single page of my music and eventually handed it right back.
Dena Temple-Raston
The stories they smuggled out went very public once they returned to the States. There were speeches and congressional hearings and calls to help the Goldsteins and Gudavas and other refuseniks who wanted to leave the Soviet Union remember, the purpose of their trip was to draw world attention to the human rights situation in the Soviet Union. And it worked. The following year, the Goldsteins were allowed to immigrate to Israel. And while the Gudavas were initially jailed after the concert, accused of taking part in treasonous activity and blamed for the hearings that took place on Capitol Hill, the two were finally released in April 1987 on the condition that they leave the Soviet Union. They arrived in Boston that September. The crazy thing is, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Tens of thousands of Jews have left Russia since Putin's invasion of Ukraine earlier this year. And now Moscow is moving to close a non profit organization that helps them immigrate to Israel. It's called the Jewish Agency for Israel and it's operated in Russia since 1989. This is click here. Today's episode was produced by Sean Powers and me, Dena Templereston. It was edited by Karen Duffin, Fact Checked by Darren Ancrum and contains original music by Ben Levingston. A very special thanks to Merrill Goldberg, Hank Osnitsky, Rosalie Jarrett, Jeff Warshauer, and Phyllis Irwin. They provided every piece of music you heard on our show today, and we thought it was only fitting that they send us out with an original composition based on their travels. These are the days Our friends we hope they never we sing and dance.
Meryl Goldberg
Forever and today these are the lives.
Dena Temple-Raston
We choose we fight and never Click Here is a production of Recorded Future News and we'll be back on Friday with Bike Drive. These are the days oh yes, these are the days.
Meryl Goldberg
Mazel tov.
Dena Temple-Raston
Mazel tov.
Phyllis Irwin
If you're looking for a daily guide to cybersecurity news and policy, sign up for the Cyber Daily from Recorded Future News. It serves up the day's most interesting and important cyber stories from our sister publication the Record, and then aggregates all of the big cyber stories you might have missed from news outlets around the world. Just go to TheRecord Media and click on Cyber Daily to get all you need to know about the world of cybersecurity right in your inbox.
Podcast: Click Here
Host: Dina Temple-Raston
Episode: 194
Release Date: December 24, 2024
In Episode 194, titled "A Return to the Musicians Who Came in from the Cold," Dina Temple-Raston of Click Here delves into an extraordinary tale from the mid-1980s. This story centers on four members of a Boston-based klezmer ensemble who undertook a perilous mission to the Soviet Union, leveraging their musical talents to smuggle secret information. The episode intertwines themes of courage, artistry, and espionage, offering listeners a gripping glimpse into the clandestine operations that shaped the digital and political landscapes of the Cold War era.
Timestamp: [00:02] – [03:58]
The narrative begins in 1985 Soviet Russia under Mikhail Gorbachev's nascent reforms, glasnost and perestroika. Despite these hints of openness, the Soviet Union remained oppressive, with defections and KGB surveillance commonplace.
Dina Temple-Raston introduces Meryl Goldberg, a music professor at Cal State San Marcos and a member of the renowned Klezmer Conservatory Band. Meryl explains:
“It's secular music, and if you've heard Fiddler on the Roof, it's kind of in that style, but more authentic.”
[01:27]
Meryl recounts how her ensemble learned about the Phantom Orchestra, a group of Soviet refusenik musicians striving for freedom:
“So we first heard of the Phantom Orchestra through the network of people who were working in the ‘80s, trying to help people escape from the Soviet Union.”
[01:57]
These four musicians, known as refuseniks, faced severe repercussions for their desire to emigrate, including job termination and physical abuse. The ensemble saw an opportunity to aid them by covertly transporting information through music.
Timestamp: [04:26] – [08:32]
Inspired by historical figures like Josephine Baker, who used her performances to relay intelligence during World War II, Meryl and her band devised a method to embed messages within their music. Meryl elaborates on the technical aspects:
“You know, with the regular notes, you only have A through G. So then you have the problem of 26 letters with, you know, only eight notes. Although what I did without giving it away was I created a situation using chromatics.”
[07:29]
She demonstrates a snippet on her saxophone, illustrating how coded messages could be seamlessly integrated into compositions:
“Here, I'll play a little bit for you.”
[08:19]
This innovative use of musical notation allowed them to encode comprehensive messages without arousing suspicion, as the music appeared as modern compositions to any casual listener.
Timestamp: [08:43] – [12:12]
The band's preparation involved extensive training in tradecraft provided by the Action for Soviet Jewry. Upon arrival in Moscow, they immediately encountered suspicion:
“And we get off the plane, people are talking in little, little microphones. And we think, uh, oh, uh, oh.”
[09:19]
Hank Isnetsky, another band member, describes their ordeal at the airport:
“There were at least two of them. And they took us aside.”
[09:32]
Despite a thorough search of their belongings, including Meryl's music, they were eventually allowed to leave the airport after seven tense hours:
“They just hand it right back to me. Oh, it was just really fantastic.”
[10:15]
However, they quickly realized they were being followed, leading to heightened vigilance and cautious movements throughout Moscow.
Timestamp: [12:12] – [16:52]
Navigating the Soviet streets under surveillance, the ensemble used their encoded musical directions to locate the Phantom Orchestra in Tbilisi, Georgia. Their ingenuity was put to the test as they devised plans to evade their tail, ultimately leading them to a clandestine meeting:
“And so we're all going to get on the subway, and then we're all going to get off, and Rosalie and I are going to jump back on.”
[12:59]
Upon meeting Grigori and Esai Goldstein, along with Tenguis and Eduard Gudava, the atmosphere was charged with both excitement and apprehension. Meryl reflects on the profound impact of their first secret concert:
“Probably the most profound music making I have ever in my entire life made.”
[14:00]
The concert, held in the Gudava's modest apartment, became a moment of unifying musical expression, transcending the oppressive environment:
“And now they just had to get home. Not long after the secret concert, the Boston musicians awoke to an early morning call at the hotel.”
[18:09]
Timestamp: [16:52] – [20:29]
Following the concert, the band members faced immediate repercussions. Early morning detentions involved thorough searches of their belongings, now containing additional coded messages intended for the West:
“And I thought, oh man, now they're really going to do it. They're going to lock us up.”
[19:07]
Despite intense scrutiny, they were not imprisoned but instead deported from the Soviet Union after a prolonged interrogation:
“They ended up at the airport. And while they didn't end up in a Soviet prison, they were told they were going to be thrown out of the country, deported.”
[19:41]
Their return to the United States turned their covert mission into public advocacy. The stories and information they carried ignited speeches, congressional hearings, and global awareness campaigns advocating for Soviet dissidents’ rights.
Timestamp: [20:29] – [23:09]
The successful mission had tangible outcomes: the Goldsteins were permitted to immigrate to Israel the following year, and the Gudavas, despite initial imprisonment, were released in 1987 under conditions that included leaving the Soviet Union. Their immigration to Boston in September symbolized a victory for human rights activism.
Meryl connects this historical event to present-day struggles:
“Tens of thousands of Jews have left Russia since Putin's invasion of Ukraine earlier this year. And now Moscow is moving to close a non-profit organization that helps them immigrate to Israel.”
[20:29]
This continuity emphasizes the enduring nature of oppression and the relentless pursuit of freedom, resonating deeply in today's geopolitical climate.
Timestamp: [23:02] – End
Dina Temple-Raston wraps up the episode by highlighting the profound legacy of these musicians:
“These are the days Our friends we hope they never we sing and dance.”
[22:27]
The episode underscores how music transcended its artistic roots to become a medium of resistance and hope. Meryl and her ensemble’s bravery not only aided individual dissidents but also contributed to the broader movement for human rights within the Soviet Union.
Final Remark by Meryl Goldberg:
“Forever and today these are the lives.”
[22:31]
Dina closes by acknowledging the production team and contributors, leaving listeners with a poignant reminder of the power of art in shaping history.
Meryl Goldberg:
“I think creating a code in music would be the easiest way to go about this.”
[04:26]
Hank Isnetsky:
“We noticed... it sure seemed like there was something going on. So I remember we went to our hotel room and interestingly enough, the sink was leaking.”
[11:33]
Dina Temple-Raston:
“In a weird way, it became a strength. It was the perfect cover story. An innocent looking cultural exchange.”
[05:11]
Produced by: Sean Powers and Dina Temple-Raston
Edited by: Karen Duffin
Fact-Checked by: Darren Ancrum
Original Music by: Ben Levingston
Special Thanks to: Meryl Goldberg, Hank Isnetsky, Rosalie Jarrett, Jeff Warshauer, and Phyllis Irwin
This episode of Click Here masterfully blends historical intrigue with personal narratives, offering a captivating exploration of how a group of dedicated musicians played a pivotal role in the struggle against Soviet oppression through the universal language of music.