Lord Roper
Professor Anthony Glees (author of The Stasi Files) writes: If Lord Roper (obituary, Feb 23) was accused of being a Stasi spy, it was not by me. What I wrote, and stand by, is that he became an East German agent of influence. The Stasi targeted him, but he became a willing target. This conclusion was reached not merely by the references to Roper in the Stasi archive in Berlin — one read, “Roper’s proposal would offer the possibility of executing an exceptionally effective measure in support of foreign intelligence gathering” — but no less importantly by Roper himself.
In a recorded interview, he told me that he had knowingly worked with East German Stasi officers, that he believed this was in the interests of good relations with East Germany and that he accepted that he had been a Stasi source. He denied that he gave them any secret information.
However, he agreed that what he had told the Stasi was regarded by them as significant, and, although he knew he was in contact with Stasi officers in the UK, he had declined to tell either MI5 or the Foreign Office about this.
He first visited East Germany in 1957 and was there repeatedly in the 1970s. He said his regular contact with the East German embassy in London began in 1985 when he proposed a series of Anglo-East German “round tables” on various subjects, including scientific ones, bringing together British and East German experts. He accepted that by 1986 he had knowingly made contact with the Stasi.
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Neither were the assertions made in my book dismissed; in addition to describing Roper’s relationship with the East Germans, I disclosed the identity of two British Stasi agents — real spies — and my research was debated in parliament. Roper sought to use his influence both in British political and academic life to bring East Germany in from the “cold”. The East Germans plainly thought he was a prize; it does not mean that he was a “spy”.
Sir Clifford Boulton
Sir Malcolm Jack, Clerk of the House 2006-2011, writes: The two qualities of Sir Clifford Boulton highlighted in your obituary (Jan 23) — his efficiency and his shyness — were very apparent to me as a still fairly junior member of the clerk’s department of the House of Commons when I used to call round to his office in the late afternoon to relay the latest gossip I had picked up in the Members’ Tea Room. Sir Clifford would be sitting on an upright chair in the outer office, sanctuary of the lady who knew all, the formidable Grizel Sclater, personal secretary to a succession of clerks of the House. The Evening Standard would lie open on his lap. It was just past tea time and in those halcyon days of minimal administration, his desk would be entirely clear and the clerk of the House would be waiting to be entertained.